It's not this blurry in person

The restaurant’s walls are decorated only with a few pictures depicting New York City scenes and related imagery. It doesn’t work in making you feel that this strip-mall pizza joint is actually in the Big Apple, but I guess it fits in the theme. There aren’t a ton of tables, but I imagine the seating is adequate for the restaurant’s location.

On top of serving New York style slices, you can also order a full pie. A variety of sandwiches, calzones and pastas are also on the menu. In addition to all of the Italian goodness, there is also a surprisingly large selection of chocolates and other desserts in a display case to the right of the pizza counter. Apparently the owner also runs a chocolate company on the side and wanted to squeeze some of that in here too. They looked pretty fancy to me, but I’m no Doctor of Chocolate.

Garlic roll, huge-ass slice

THE GOOD: While the location is kind of odd for a pizza place, I actually like the convenience. The reason I stopped in was because I was getting gas while heading across town, and was going to pick up some beer from the liquor store. Being able to stop in and grab a quick bite to eat without having to make an extra stop was pretty awesome. The slices are big and they come with a garlic roll of some kind as an added bonus.

THE BAD: The pizza was a bit too greasy for me. I folded my slice in half to eat it and grease dripped onto my pants. That shit took like three washes to get out. Not fucking cool. But if you’re careful not to drip on yourself (or just blot off some of the grease with a napkin), this really isn’t a big deal.

TRY: First off, try to not spill pizza grease on yourself. It’s a lot easier to just be careful than it is to try to get that shit off your jeans. If you’re a dessert person, try some of the chocolates or other delicious creations that are also available.

RATING: Gremlins 2

I’ve never personally been to New York, but from what I understand this is a pretty decent example of the pizza style typically found there. With the gas station and liquor store in the same strip mall, there’s a good chance you might be stopping here anyway. Give it a try.

We should maybe stop stealing pics eventually.

There’s an old adage that goes something like, “Use it, or lose it.” 

That statement is not only applicable to weightlifting and the male penis, but also to one’s proximity to quality late night pizza joints in the Fox Cities. When drinking on College Avenue in Appleton, Sal’s Pizza should be used.

Located in the shadow of Anduzzi’s, and directly across from Wet — that shitty night club where Nick Barnett pushed down some lady — its location leaves something to be desired. A frame of reference for those not familiar with the Fox Valley: It’s smack dab in the Appleton equal of Milwaukee’s Water Street between Juneau and Kilborn, the Madison equivalent of wherever that bar is where that wheelchair-bound little person trolls for fresh dick, the Eau Claire version of … Eau Claire. 

But despite the shitshow surrounding Sal’s, the pizza is worth stumbling the gauntlet of pavement puke, off key street performers, and Appleton Police after last call. 

The menu at Sal’s is about as original as the name “Sal’s” is for a pizza parlor. The tiny restaurant specializes in pizza by the slice, and features all the favorites: From pepperoni to spinach and feta to Margarita. If you’ve seen it at Sabarro’s, Sal’s not only has it, Sal’s makes it better.

Additionally, they serve these greasy ass Italian biscuits with each slice. That’s it. Pizza and bread Jr. You want spaghetti and a side salad? Well, fuck right off and get you ass to Victoria’s.

THE GOOD: The pizza/the price. Sal’s, if nothing else, knows its demographic — Lazy stoners who work at Jimmy John’s that are sick of eating subs every Goddamn day, and Plump Drunk Love(s) like myself who seek a slice of salvation following another night of gin, dance offs and not getting their dick wet. The pizza is ready immediately and is fairly-portioned, while delightfully greasy. The cheese is abundant, the sauce conveys a salty and pepper-flecked symphony of flavor, and it can be had for none more than $4. Cheese is something like $2.40/slice. I’d look the price up, but…

THE BAD: … there’s no fucking Web site. You know your business model is messed up when it’s after 1995 and you haven’t allocated $50 to get a Web site hosted for your business. As I write this, there are currently more Web sites on the Internet that are critical of Sal’s Pizza’s lack of a Web site than there are actual Web sites for the Appleton Sal’s Pizza. 

Also (and maybe this changed since I moved), most of the people working there during my visits acted like total dicksuckers to customers. I can see that flying after midnight, but try not to have your fucking period right at the counter during the four-person lunch “rush” if my dad asks for a red pepper shaker that’s directly behind you. Things could be worse, miss. For example: You could be trying to find information on Sal’s online.

TRY: Spinach and Feta. Spinach is healthy, it makes your muscles big and enables cartoons of things like speeding locomotives and kicking stallions to appear on your since-enlarged bicep. Feta is the reigning Guiness Book of World Records record holder in the category of best cheese ever. Put them together in pizza form, charge $3.25 for it and BONERS UP, BOYS AND GIRLS!

RATING: I’m seriously thinking about hiring Dr. Ronnie to make a Web site for Sal’s Pizza that I’ll then host myself. I’d only ask for two free slices and a small fountain soda in return.

Going back to New York was exciting. Going back to Williamsburg was equally exciting. Despite seeing the most ridiculous looking kids as soon as we got onto Metropolitan I was excited to be able to eat at some of my favorite places, San Loco, Relish, Taco Chulo, and Jerry’s Pizza. Just kidding. I’d never heard of Jerry’s Pizza before.

Red Knife Lottery and I were on the hunt for pizza. My previous journey to Tony’s was a solo mission and Ashley “wanted fucking pizza.” We met up with friends Atlas Moth (who got a burger named after them at Kumas) outside of Union Pool where they were playing later that night. Nobody was familiar with the area except myself and instead of giving some sort of direction we walked around basically aimless. After a good 10 or so blocks getting out of Williamsburg and slowly making our way into Greenpoint we stumbled across a Papa Johns and made a lot of jokes. Then, another block later, we discovered Jerry’s across the street.

Immediately, I was disappointed. It looked like there was one cheese pizza sitting on a small table next to the oven. I was right. I asked if they had pepperoni and the guy behind the counter said they did. I ordered it. Jerry’s style is to take the cheese slice and add toppings before it goes back in the oven. It made for an extra greasy pepperoni slice. I only ordered one slice but ended up getting two. I wasn’t disappointed with that.
Chris and Joe from Red Knife followed suit and got 2 slices, as well. The soda situation was sketchy at best. A cooler full of ice and some broken ass soda fountain rig had me questioning whether or not to get one. I did. The pizza was great. Classic New York style is the only way to describe it. There really isn’t more detail one could get into.

The Good: Well. It’s New York pizza. It’s exactly what you’d expect out of a Brooklyn pizza place. I really enjoyed listening to who I imagine is the owner and a regular customer talk about boxing during the duration of my pizza experience. I was also a fan of getting two slices when I only ordered one. Almost as if the guy behind the counter knew what my stomach actually wanted like some sort of modern day pizza oracle.

The Bad: Even though I knew what I was getting into with the two slices the stomach ache hours later wasn’t my favorite. The ice for the soda being in a basic Rubbermaid cooler creeped me out a little. The area isn’t bad but it’s something you would have to go out of the way for if you were visiting NYC. Very not on any main drag so to speak.

Try: Going there sometime. It’s got pizza, goddamnit, it’s good, and they already know what you want. Plus, if you’re visiting Jerry’s Pizza that means you’re in New York and that rules. If you go out there look up my good friend Jim McGurk. He knows a good time.

I used to have a long-running argument with an ex-friend about how, while pizza as we know it may have been “created” in America, it wasn’t inaccurate to call it Italian, because it was the Italian immigrants who made it here, not those dirty potato eating Irish. But he was stupid, so he said it didn’t matter that Italians in America made it, it was only American cuisine. Apparently his definition of what makes food of a certain culture is similar to how South American countries view territory disputes (look that shit up, I don’t have time to explain that metaphor here).

Why did I bring up a fight I had with a douche I don’t even talk to any more? Well, because Pizza di Roma, one of the less reputable pizza joints on Madison’s State Street, unlike about every other pizza place in Madison save Paisan’s, is 100% about referencing Italy. I mean, they’ve got Roma in the fucking name. Plus a prerequisite to working there seems to be that you have to be Italian (or at least Mexican) and have a love of hair oil and Italian soccer team t-shirts. Which probably makes Pizza di Roma the most authentic pizza joint in all of Madison. That is if you have a logical definition of what makes for “authentic” Italian pizza.

The Good: You can’t beat the size of Roma’s slices, since them shits are enormous. It’s like trying to eat half a frozen pizza at once. Plus their toppings are generally solid, with their sausage splitting the difference between Ian’s gastronomical annihilators and Rocky’s meatballs. They’ve also got a lot of side items (like cheese bread), which is a break from the norm of just slices at most downtown pizza joints.

The Bad: I know we are supposed to focus on the pizza here, but let me pull out my Doctor of Décor degree here for a moment; Pizza di Roma has easily the worst table-seating options of all time. They have those old plastic booths that used to be hot in Hardee’s, and you can’t move the table, which means lard-os like myself leave the place with a giant mark on our tummies from getting crushed by a booth for the duration of our meal. But then again, given that I’ve eaten at old pizza places in NYC, Pizza di Roma is more like a New York pizza place than any other non-NYC place I’ve ever been to (dingy, poorly-lit, shitty tables).

As far as the pizza goes, the cheese tends to be hit or miss, probably depending on how old the slice your sliding down your gullet is. I’ve had pieces with excellent cheese, but I’ve also had ones where the cheese tastes like that school lunch pizza cheese that is still causing childhood obesity and diarrhea across America. It probably depends on when you head to the place; the morning is good, the afternoon less so, and it’s better again at dinner.

Try: There are some more daring slice combos at Pizza di Roma (eggplant on a pizza? Fuck you), but mostly they are by the books with the kind of topping combos you can buy on a Jack’s at your supermarket. But Roma’s za is way better than that, obviously.

Rating: Four out of eight John Stamoses