Los Angeles is a major metropolitan area and as such you can get practically anything here. Feeling like Ethiopian for dinner? No problem, there are twelve places to choose from. Craving the food of an obscure Chinese province? Got it. But what no one here seems able to produce is a quality, New York-style pizza. Already I can hear all the native Angelenos saying "but such and such place has great pizza". Nope, you're wrong. It's not your fault, you just don't know any better. And if you are from anywhere else and disagree with me, you have been in LA too long.
When pizza is done right, all you need is the cheese. Toppings get in the way. The pizza should be the size of a small table, and have a crust that is thin, but not too thin. It is still bread, not a cracker, but it is not bread-y or dry. It is a little tough, a little chewy, you must work to tear that bite. It should have slightly charred flour on the bottom from the peel that took it out of the oven. The sauce is spicy and provides much of the flavor, but not too spicy, not overwhelming and definitely not too much. The cheese is a thing of beauty, melted and just starting to brown and bubble. It stretches to incredible lengths as you pull that first slice out of the box, and then snaps, wrapping around your hand. You fold the slice in half and a river of orange grease runs down your arm and the flavor explodes in your mouth. This is alchemy, this simple combination of bread and tomato and cheese that is so sublime.
Ahh, pizza, I pine for you.
