Artichoke Pizza

The East Village’s Artichoke pizza has been quickly growing quite the reputation since it opened last year. With all the hub-bub of the Pizzeria it was time to see what all the hollering was about.  Not having eaten in almost 24 hours due to alcoholism, it seemed like a dripping slice of the famous pie would be just what the doctor ordered, if your Doctor is one who wants you to go into cardiac arrest.

Too rich for my blood, and heart. Picture courtesy of Glenwoodnyc.com

The hole in the wall on 14th st. doesn’t have chairs, and it doesn’t have tables. The kitchen is larger than the dining room. New Yorkers silently munch on their glop covered dough in silence facing the walls of the 7×8 foot room as a line in the middle leads out the door. The server asks quietly “What kind” of which the customers have a choice of Artichoke, Sicilian, Margarita (original) and Crab. The customers quietly respond “Artichoke” one after another and he throws another slice back in the over, returning with another customers melty slice. In the back two men assemble new pies randomly dropping gigantic chunks of cheese onto a dough the size of a dinner table.

The slice comes out and the server quietly announced “Artichoke” as it seems to be the only thing ordered. If you’re lucky enough to find a spot on the wall where there is a tiny shelf just below an average person’s chest you can hunch over your slice in the safety between  your two elbows. The slice is undeniably mucusey.  One could call it “Artichoke Pizza” in name only as it is really pizza with T.G.I. Friday’s Spinach-Artichoke Dip heaved onto it.

Check out that bready crust. Picture courtesy of mightysweet.com

Unfortunately the crust itself is pretty unpleasant as well. It’s thickness is necessary to hold the weight of the Spinach Dip, but a mouth full of what almost tastes like sourdough is not ideal when scarfing down a fresh pie. While the heavy slice makes it very filling as a $4 slice, you might be inclined to purge afterward, if only it wouldn’t result in another greasy mess.

The slice does have its advantages, however. The first bite is breathtaking. It’s like having a dollop of piping hot cream explode in your mouth. Unfortunately the magic is short-lived. When you struggle through this caloric journey, the age old phrase keeps coming to mind “Too Rich For My Blood,” and your heart .  As the pizza sets in your stomach, like the sun over the pacific, be aware of the hype, and next time slop some of Stouffer’s Spinach Artichoke Dip onto a slice of Dominos, new and improved pizza, and call it a day.