Immaculate Infatuation

Georgia is so hot right now, and we’re not talking about Real Housewives of Atlanta, we’re talking about BBQ. A couple of years ago when BBQ was all the rage in NYC, a tiny goldmine unceremoniously opened its doors on the Lower East Side. If you haven’t heard about Georgia’s already, it’s time to take notice.

Georgia’s Eastside BBQ has the best ribs in town, hands down. You heard that correct. They’re in a different league than Dinosaur BBQ. They take RUB to town. They destroy Hill Country, and even surpass Blue Smoke and perennial favorite Daisy May’s. The best part about the whole situation – it’s cheap. Everything on the menu is under $20. You can get a nice helping of St. Louis style pork ribs with two sides for $19. That’s good stuff. Their sandwiches are all less than $10 a pop, while beers are all $5 and under. Hell, this is cheaper than Texas. A few things to be aware of before you go – Georgia’s is cash only, so come prepared. Also, they don’t have their own bathroom. Luckily, The Sixth Ward across the street gladly offers up use of their facilities.

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Muzzarella has long been an Immaculate Infatuation favorite. We’ve been coming here for years, and even though it’s not the most consistent when it comes to quality, we keep coming back. Why? When Muzzarella is good, it’s damn good. The whole pies usually deliver really well, and their chicken, tomato, and onion slice is one of our favorite things in the entire city. The standard cheese slice is solid, though could use a little more crisp on the crust and the lasagna slice is a unique offering and cult favorite. Yes, it’s true that Muzzarella is a grimy hole in the wall, and yes, we’ve seen rodents out front so big that they could operate the cash register, but that chicken slice at 2am is really hard to beat.

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Move over people, the champ is here. Joe’s is the best slice in Manhattan. It’s been like that forever and will remain that way for eternity. If you can make a case for any other slice on the island of Manhattan, please let us know. The menu is simple and usually there are three options: plain, fresh mozzarella and Sicilian (sometimes you can catch a Pepperoni pie too). If you’re ordering by the pie then there’s the additional toppings option, but why mess with perfection? The kitchen operation is a well oiled machine and keeps hot pies blazing out of the oven one after the other. Unlike a place like Artichoke, which makes lining up to vote look like fun, the line at Joe’s is the epitome of efficiency. You can be backed up 15 deep on the sidewalk and still be in and out with your slices in 10 minutes, easy. Bonus points to Joe’s for owning one of the best fountain cokes around, with just the right balance of syrup, carbonation, and water.

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The self-proclaimed “first pizzeria in America,” Lombardi’s has long been at the top of the list for tourists looking for a taste of real New York City pizza. Rightfully so, as this Neapolitan style coal oven pizza is top-rate. Unfortunately, to get a taste you’ll have to wait in line behind the gaggles of people being dropped off by the double-decker bus load. The room is Little Italy meets The Olive Garden, and the staff in front sport headsets, which must help keep the place from falling into chaos … that or it makes the guys eating with their Bluetooth earpiece in feel a little more at home. Either way, it’s worth making the trip and waiting it out every once in a while. A word to the wise, don’t sleep on the clam pizza. And make sure you don’t get any sauce on your foam Statue of Liberty crown.

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If there’s one cuisine whose hype is usually warranted, it’s pizza. Because of its universal nature, critics and “the people” will generally see eye to eye. At the end of the day most pizza is either fantastic or good enough and it doesn’t take a food expert to distinguish between the two. With these facts in mind, the Infatuation was fired up to investigate New York Mag’s declaration of Kesté as NYC’s best pie of the moment.

As anticipated, Kesté serves up some of the best pizza in town. We went during prime time and waited about half an hour for our table – the perfect amount of time to whet our appetites with a couple craft pints from the Blind Tiger down the block. Kesté doesn’t serve by the slice (unless you’re lucky and they hook you up with a taster slice for waiting), and while the pies are sized for one person to eat, you should come hungry and with friends. On our last visit, we each ordered our own pie and no slice was left uneaten. Kesté’s decor could use a little spruce up; the exposed brick almost looks fake, and the random artwork doesn’t add much to the vibe. They jam as many tables as possible into the small space and it’s hot as balls thanks to the open oven in the back. You know what though? I’m fine with Kesté concentrating their efforts on the food, and it pays off. I’d rather eat like a king at a dive than consume crap in a palace. Not that this place is a dive by any means, but you get my point.

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