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Jeffrey L. Wilson

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NYC Craft Beer Festival Fall 2016

The 5 best beers at NYC Craft Beer Festival (Fall 2016)

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The NYC Craft Beer Festival has proven itself one of New York City’s most consistently enjoyable events, as it encourages beer fans, both novices and die hards, to step outside of their malted comfort zones to sample new beverages—even those that appear unappealing on the surface. I’m a prime example of this of this idea. I really, really hate IPAs, but will give one a chance if it carries a particularly interesting flavor hook. Plus, to quote the great Space Ghost, “I will put anything into my mouth that is given to me. Whether it’s supposed to go there or not.” Such gusto opens the door to many discoveries. 

Fortunately, the event boasts dozens of tasty, sample-ready craft beers, including ales, lagers, porters, and stouts. My 2-ounce tasting glass leaned heavily toward the heavier brews, but I made certain to sample as much as I could before Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” blared throughout the Lexington Avenue Armory, signaling the festival’s end. I admit to a certain bias for drinks with gimmicky flavors, which is evident in my five beers-of-the-show picks.

Abita Peach
It’s difficult to find a brewery that crafts a truly excellent fruit-based beer, as many overwhelm you with sweetness or skimp on the flavor so that you can barely recognize the fruity elements. Yet, Abita finds that balance with this peach lager, a refreshing treat that’s brewed with fresh, handpicked Louisiana peaches.

Breckenridge Vanilla Porter
I didn’t know what to expect from a vanilla porter, but Breckenridge Brewery delivered a pleasant surprise with this excellent blend that combines the chocolate and roasted nut flavor of a classic porter, with a vanilla punch.

DuClaw Sweet Baby Jesus
Sweet Baby Jesus can be summed up in four words: Chocolate Peanut Butter Porter. Oh, and “delicious.” It’s smooth and thick, with a creamy chocolate, coffee and peanut butter flavor that makes for a perfect after-dinner drink. Pairs well with vanilla ice cream, too.

Guinness Antwerpen
The Guinness brand is forever associated with its classic stout, but the company has made strides in the last two years to expand into the craft market. The result is handful of flavorful beers, with Antwerpen being one of my favorites. Light and creamy, this sweet stout boasts vanilla, butterscotch and dark fruity flavors.

Southern Tier Pumking
I’ve professed my love for this gem last year, so I won’t do so again here. Just click here. And then buy a six pack. TRUST ME ON THIS ONE.

Sweet beers ruled my tongue this time out, and will probably do so again when the NYC Craft Beer Festival Spring 2017 show rolls around.

Harpoon Brewery

Happy trails, Harpoon Arctic Ale

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My experiences with Harpoon’s brews amount to nothing more than bad luck.

The first time I sipped one of the company’s beers, its delicious Chocolate Stout, I learned hours later that it had been retired and the last batch that was in the wild was truly the last batch in the wild. I was incredibly disappointed.

Harpoon Arctic Ale
Pictured: Harpoon Arctic Ale, a rich combination of coffee, chocolate, and fruit flavors.

So, imagine my surprise when I learned that my second Harpoon beer, Arctic Ale, a delightful drink that blessed my tongues in ways I didn’t know it could be blessed, was also retired. That’s not misfortune; it’s a hop-infused curse.

They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, a sentiment that rings true in this scenario. Harpoon’s Arctic Ale is one of the best beers I’ve ever tasted. To the eye, Arctic Ale’s dark body may recall a chocolate or oatmeal stout, and it certainly possesses those flavors, but when the liquid hits the tongue, the beer shines with cherry and raisin notes. Each sip brings multiple flavor layers and, due to its fruity elements, lots of sugar. Arctic Ale is a quite a sweet drink.

Yet, Arctic Ale isn’t particularly heavy. It doesn’t have a Pumking-like mouth feel; it’s thinner, but certainly not light. Bud, Arctic Ale is not.

However, the beer is heavy in one area: alcohol content. Arctic Ale weighs in at a very respectable 13 percent ABV, which means that this isn’t a session beer. In fact, I sipped it. Between the alcohol volume and sweetness, Arctic Ale is a beer that you proudly nurse.

So, if you can find Harpoon Arctic Ale in the wild, grab it and down it. The brew is remarkably smooth and potent, which is what I consider the twin winning elements of an alcoholic beverage. And enjoy it while it lasts.

Marvel's Luke Cage Netflix

The Marvel Cinematic Universe TV show power rankings

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A rainy New York City weekend, and general laziness on my part, helped free the time needed for me to kick back, grab a snack, and dive into Luke Cage. We live in super-sensitive spoiler culture, so I won’t dive into many details about the show. I’ll say this, however: It’s pretty entertaining, despite some of many massive beefs in regards to Cage’s motivations and “reluctant hero” shtick. Mahershala Ali, Simone Missick, and Alfre Woodard absolutely slay on screen, and keep the boat from sinking into the Sea of Mediocrity.

But Luke Cage isn’t Marvel’s only TV series. In its extremely brief period of existence, the Marvel Cinematic Universe has radically transformed how Hollywood makes movies. The big studios now seek to emulate Marvel Studios’s comic book-style, interconnected formula with Cinematic Universes of their own; there’s talk of several unified movie series, including those based on G.I. Joe, Godzilla, Universal’s monsters, and other hot, and not so hot, properties. A 21 Jump Street and Men In Black crossover, Sony? Please send that uncooked duck back to the kitchen.

The Negative Zone-sized gulf between the MCU and those hastily cobbled together universes has grown, and continues to grow, because Marvel Studios gives a damn about the small screen. Yes, DC has Arrow, Gotham, Supergirl, and other programs on the air, but those shows don’t all exist within the same universe. Here’s a bit of info that’s even more bewildering: Warner Bros, DC Comics’s parent company, has confirmed that the small screen properties won’t tie into the big screen story lines, and that the company will likely recast, say, Oliver Queen if that character movies from TV to feature film. The lack of cohesion is quite perplexing.

Marvel Studios’s “everything’s connected” game plan, however, means that a blind vigilante operates in the same universe as a gun-toting raccoon-like creature. It means that a legendary super-soldier lives in the same world where a super-strong PTSD sufferer battles her demons. The comic book-style cross-pollination ensures that geeks have some Marvel merriment in their lives between the tent pole movie releases, with the potential for big gun characters or story beats to appear on television, and vice versa. Who didn’t love Samuel L. Jackson’s Nick Fury appearance in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. after the fallout of Captain America: The Winter Soldier?

Now that Marvel Studios has five TV properties scattered between ABC and Netflix, the time has come for me to rank these sum’bitches. As with my Marvel Cinematic Universe Movie Power Rankings, this Marvel Cinematic Universe TV Power Rankings stack-ranks Marvel Studios’s properties from best to worst across three categories: Main-Eventers (the must-watch shows), Mid-Carders (flawed, but recommended, shows), and Jobbers (A.K.A., don’t waste your time).

Let’s get the party started.

(more…)

Discover GiFu Saké

Discover Gifu Saké Brought a Taste of Japan to NYC

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Saké, the Japanese rice-based alcoholic beverage that’s brewed like a beer, escaped my purview until recently. I sampled the drink in the past, usually in very small amounts during masterful K-town karaoke sessions, but didn’t bother to learn more about it until I received an invite to attend the Discover Gifu Saké showcase. It’s one of the benefits that living in New York City affords.

Discover GiFu Saké was held in Astor Center, a space above NoHo’s excellent Astor Wine and Spirits. Japanese Brewmeisters and their assistants were in attendance to talk saké, drum up buzz for their brews, and hopefully sign deals with American distributors. In a way, the event was one part introductory class, one part media event, one part business meeting. I learned about the brewing process, fermentation, and what’s required to sell saké in the United States. That said, those elements never got in the way of the showcase’s core: The saké tasting.

I won’t get into the saké basics, as a site superior to mine does a fine job of explaining the beverage. Instead, I’ll touch upon the three drinks that I enjoyed the most. 

  • Junmai Yuzu Sake by Nakashima Saké
    This 8.5-percent liqueur is made with fresh yuzu juice and Kozaemon junmai saké. It’s an excellent blend that creates a delicious lemon-lime flavor that’s incredibly sweet.
  • Shirakawago Awa-Nigori Junmai by Miwa Shuzo
    This carbonated saké is created with an in-bottle fermentation technique known as the “Champagne method” that produces a refreshing, satisfying finish. It boasts an 11 percent alcohol volume.
  • Cody’s Saké Junmai Ginjo by Watanabe Saké
    Masterfully brewed by Darryl Cody,  the first American saké  brewmaster, to commemorate his 10th anniversary as the big dog. This Junmai Ginjo has a 15 percent alcohol volume and a wonderfully smooth and clean taste.

Whittling down the selections was difficult, because there were so many excellent selections. But, by god, I found the will to drink and drink and drink until the top three were determined.

So, my big takeaway from the Discover GiFu Saké event is this: I like saké quite a bit! I will add it to my drink catalog, as I prefer to down the Japanese brew instead of, say, wine or hard liquor. It’s lighter, cleaner (the filtered variety, anyway), and the taste is like a kiss from a rose.

Now I just need a set of those cool saké drinking cups.

Beer

How I learned to love craft beer

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True story: I didn’t begin regularly drinking until I was 29 years old. Not at all coincidentally, that was my foray into the world of professional writing.

Also a true story: At age 14 or so, some friends and I managed to purchase a crate of beer from a location in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn that shall remain nameless. We downed so many brews on a scorching summer day that the resulting hangover made me vow to never drink again. Hence, the age 29 thing above.

Founders Nitro Oatmeal Stout
Pictured: Founders Nitro Oatmeal Stout, a remarkably smooth craft beer.

So, yes, my relationship with beer was a complicated one until very recently. It was a devil’s brew that brought teen me to a condition that I considered near death. But even after giving beer a second chance in 2003, I still didn’t love it. Or even like it. Everyone around me downed Budweiser, St. Ides, Michelob, or some other swill. But I kept at it, sampling things here, sampling things there, because I figured that there was a reason otherwise sane adults returned to the stuff.

Thankfully, living in New York City gave me the opportunity to discover liquid gems. Frequent visits to beer halls, such as Brooklyn Brewery and Paulaner NYC, introduced me to quality beer. I had yet to learn the term “craft beer,” but I knew those establishments carried suds that were above the common ones you’d find in your local corner store. And they had cool names! Ale! Bitters! Lager! Pilsner! Porter! Stout! I tried them all, and slowly eliminated the awful ones (usually the  hop monsters) from my taste catalog. I became literally and figuratively intoxicated with the discovery of new beers and breweries. In fact, whenever I step into to a bar, the first thing that I order is something unfamiliar. Listen, I’m about that beer life.

It wasn’t until I cracked Jeff Alworth’s The Beer Bible that I discovered why I became so enamored by craft beer. As I sat reading, often late at night, I found myself hanging on his every word as he walked me through the history of beer. Alworth’s descriptions of the brewing process, ingredients, colors, flavors, and heads made me realize something: beer drinking is a truly sensual experience. Your eyes react to the color as it’s poured, and the resulting head. Your nose catches scents as they rise from the glass. Your tongue snares the taste and aftertaste. Your tongue registers the feel.

That may sound odd, but when you down something as silky as Southern Tier’s Imperial Pumking, the liquid glides over the tongue with a richness that you just won’t get from a lower-class beer. It’s a “mouth feel” that once experienced, takes beer drinking to another plane of existence. There’s no other consumable that dazzles those four senses as sexily as craft beer. Pizza, one of my former favorite edibles, doesn’t come close.

I must admit that I’m a borderline beer snob, and I see myself traveling that road as I discover new breweries, styles, and flavors. I even went so far as to order a set of beer glasses, because I read that drink wares’ shapes can enhance aroma and taste. It may or may not be true, but I’ll take the chance with the beer glasses, as I simply want the best possible pour.

And, lastly, I can’t discount the freshness factor. Though I genuinely enjoy exquisitely made beers based on the brews’ merits, I must acknowledge the joy that comes with participating in any new, exciting activity. A craft beer aficionado, at least this one, enjoys the deliciousness and the thrill of the hunt.

And as a New Yorker, with access to hundreds of bars, it’s a splendid chase.

Harpoon Chocolate Stout

R.I.P. Harpoon Chocolate Stout

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The Barcade chain receives a heap of well-earned attention for keeping the arcade scene alive in a world where home video game consoles produce graphics, sound, and gameplay that we couldn’t have imagined in the 1980s and 1990s, but it doesn’t get enough props for the other part of its portmanteau-powered moniker. Barcades, as a whole, are rather impressive bars that boast a surprisingly robust craft beer selection.

A week ago, a friend and I visited the St. Marks Place Barcade, because I had a hankering for a cold one after reading Jeff Alworth’s The Beer Bible.  The establishment’s beer menu read as quite delicious, but it was Harpoon Brewery’s Chocolate Stout that caught my eye. The brew’s official description is one that no person of drinking age could resist.

A chocolate stout is a beer with a noticeable dark chocolate flavor. This flavor is created from the use of darker, more aromatic malt that has been roasted or kilned until it acquires a chocolate color. Harpoon Chocolate Stout is brewed with an abundance of chocolate malt and a touch of chocolate.

I had to try it. And after downing a sample served by a perky barkeep, I ordered a glass. And after ordering a glass, I was in love.

I’ve had the opportunity to taste just three chocolate beers in my lifetime, and Harpoon’s joint is easily the best of the lot. The first chocolate beer was so bad that I should  remember its name, but I don’t. The second was DuClaw Brewing Company’s Big Baby Jesus, a tasty 6.2% chocolate-and-peanut butter porter that fell just short of greatness. And now this.

I thoroughly enjoyed Harpoon Chocolate Stout. It’s one of those beers that dazzle the senses with its inky flow, chocolate scent, smooth feel, and, of course, rich taste. The cocoa beans-and-roasted-malt combo is potent one that hits the tongue with a jab and cross—there’s no question that you’re drinking a chocolate-based beer. The chocolate flavor is an immediate one, unlike Big Baby Jesus’, which has a flavor that sneaks up on you. Still, it’s not overwhelming. Harpoon Chocolate Stout isn’t a liquefied candy bar; it’s a beer through and through. Sadly, Harpoon Chocolate Stout is no longer with us.

Maybe the beer is simply too good for this world.

I intend to make my return to St. Marks Barcade sooner than expected to salute a wonderful beer. I would pour out my next sip for the gone-too-soon brew, but that would simply be a waste of valuable drops.

Cape Fear

The official rules for remaking movies

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The 2016 Ghostbusters remake did many things of note, including highlighting gender diversity, enraging the “get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich” squad, and showcasing why Kate McKinnon is an absolute wonder. Remove those factors, however, and the film is a highly forgettable affair that, like The Force Awakens, adheres too closely to what came before it.

Ghostbusters, as well as Kong: Skull Island, The Rocketeers, and the long-rumored Beetlejuice 2, showcase Hollywood’s incredible willingness to return to the cinematic well again and again to sip from its potentially money-giving waters. Sometimes remakes are worthwhile projects, such as Ocean’s Eleven and Rise of the Planet of the Apes. Others are quite bland and/or horrid; think Arthur and Robocop. This isn’t a new occurrence; Grandma Wilson saw good/bad versions of The Fly and Out of the Past before she exited the world.

That said, it certainly feels like contemporary Hollywood double dips now more than ever before. I, admittedly, don’t have definitive numbers, but Den of Geek has attempted to chronicle every upcoming remake. The situation is daunting, frightening, and frustrating. Hollywood needs a rule set to determine when it should ponder dipping into its vaults to resurrect a brand. Fortunately, I have one that I freely offer to any director, screenwriter, producer, or executive! Pass it along.

DO NOT REMAKE A MOVIE IF:

  1. It is widely considered the progenitor, or a definitive work, in its genre. So, no Citizen Kane or Die Hard.
  2. It has already been remade. That means Cape Fear and The Thing are off the table.
  3. It’s one of an acclaimed filmmaker’s first five theatrical releases. Therefore, Jaws and Taxi Driver cannot be touched.
  4. It pushed visual effects forward. Think The Matrix or Star Wars.
  5. It stars at least two of the following: Shane Black, Bill Duke, John McTiernan, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Carl Weathers. Yes, I love Predator. And Commando.
  6. It has David Patrick Kelly playing a weaselly little character who either delivers, or receives, a classic line.
  7. It is Beverly Hills Cop or The Goonies. Show some respect.

Okay, I admit that a few of those rules are made in jest. That’s because I’m not adamantly against movie remakes; they simply should be judiciously made. Flicks that flopped (The Rocketeer) and or didn’t live up to their potential (Drop Dead Fred) are perfect remake fodder. Everything else? Leave it alone, Hollywood. You have other things to do, such as spam sequels, soft reboots, and cinematic universes.

Image courtesy of Amblin Entertainment, Cappa Films, Tribeca Productions, and Universal Pictures.

Chuck Taylor All Star 2

Sneaker culture and the Chuck Taylor All Star II

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Sneaker culture fascinates and confounds me.

On one hand, I thoroughly enjoy the fact that the average guy has moved beyond the stereotypical idea that “only women care about shoes,” and realizes that if he cares about his hat, shirt, and pants, it only makes sense to pay attention to what slips on his feet. A quality shoe complements and outfit, and in some cases, augments it.

On the other hand, when I see the huddled masses lined outside a Footaction at the crack of dawn to be the first to cop the new Jordans, I weep a little inside. It’s the same disgusted feeling that washes over me when I see people camped outside of an Apple Store, sometimes days at a time, to purchase an iPhone or iPad that’s marginally superior to the ones they currently carry. A culture of out-of-control capitalism has programmed the populace to drool on command, and it’s sickening.

So, sneaker culture is bewildering. Admittedly, I’m way out of the loop, and not at all a member of the club. Besides the odd sneaker I’d buy when I was power-running from 2004 to 2006, I haven’t owned an athletic shoe for casual use since my late-20s.

A few weeks ago, I deep dived into YouTube sneaker videos after reading that Nike owns Converse, the company’s former rival. I also discovered that The House of Jordans created a follow-up to the classic Chuck Taylor All Star sneaker: the appropriately named Chuck Taylor All Star II. This fascinated me.

I was born in the mid-1970s, so I remember a pre-Jordans New York City when Chuck Taylors, Pumas, and shelltop Adidas dominated the New York City urban footwear scene. My older cousins were really into Chucks, which I considered one of the smoothest-looking kicks on the market. I loved the black-and-white color contrast. I dug the cool stitching. I appreciated how you could rock them with anything. But, the shoe’s lack of cushioning meant that walking in a pair of Chucks was mildly better than walking barefoot on concrete. Whenever I tried on my cousin’s Chucks to practice my b-boy stance, I soon tossed them. My tender toes just couldn’t handle the shoe.

However, when I learned that the new Chuck Taylor All Star II leveraged contemporary shoe technology for a more comfortable fit than its predecessor, I immediately pulled out the debit card and pointed my  computer’s Web browser to Converse.com. I needed to try the shoe. I wasn’t disappointed.

  • The sneaker comes bundled with a slip-in Lunarlon insert that offers extra support. YES.
  • There’s better construction on display: the show is softer and has upper support. YES.
  • The classic logo is a sewn-on patch instead of a paint job. KINDA DIG.
  • It lacks the classic stitching and black sole stripe. BOO.
  • A padded, non-slip tongue. YES.

Chuck Taylor All Star 2

Long story short: The Chuck Taylor All Star II is a well-designed sneaker that’s easier on the soles than the original shoe. In fact, they’ve become my official casual footwear as I semi-obsessively try to make 60,000 steps per week. Yes, I’ve joined the church of Fitbit. Hallowed be its name.

A few days ago, I stumbled upon a playground on Houston Street while wearing my Chucks. Men of various ages and races balled hard on the blacktop, as they shot, passed, and jumped in the spring air. Other than my own shoes, there wasn’t a set of Chucks in my immediate vicinity.

It’s 2016, not 1979. Sneaker culture, like society as whole, bends and morphs as the years trot forward. The Chuck Taylor All Star is no longer a b-baller’s shoe, because more comfortable, sports-friendly options exist. That said, the sneakers have transformed into something greater than their original purpose.

The brand is found in the office, the diner, the lab, the class, the club, and the park. The shoe’s classic design makes it acceptable casual wear, as well as a shot of downtown cool while dressed up. But for me, the Chuck Taylor All Star II is improved nostalgia.

Arrested Development

“But I am still thirsty”

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Frustration is the shriveled hand that quickly lowers our life-blinds and prevents us from enjoying the vistas. The feeling can touch any area of our existences, but it has a particularly wounding sting when it grips our careers. Although I constantly trumpet the idea of divorcing one’s self-worth from one’s job, I recognize that it can be a wickedly difficult course of action; we pour a significant amount of hours into our jobs, after all. I also recognize that I’m not immune to the struggle.

I entered the publishing business at age 30, a time in a writer/editor’s life when s/he is ascending the ladder of success. Not only was I new to the game, I stood on the absolute bottom rung of the ladder—I was an intern. As a result, I reached, stretched, leaped, and scrambled to ascend to a senior-level position and overcome that delayed start. The journey took longer than I’d imagined, and I sacrificed tears, time, sanity, and a relationship to get there. Some would question the journey’s validity if it brought so much strife, and it would be a fair critique. I performed actions that I’d never repeat or encourage others to take, but the many trials proved beneficial in the long run for one simple reason: I learned not to take any of this too seriously.

Still, there are moments when it’s difficult not to feel as though my career would be on another level if I’d pursued editorial during the normal window in a young professional’s life. The thoughts often creep to the forefront during meetings with people above my rank, but I try to drown out regret’s footsteps with happy reflections.

I grew up a poor kid from a single mother. She did a fine job of shielding me from just how poor we were, and put me on the path of learning and dreaming. In my younger days, I wrote before I consciously decided to become a professional writer. I slapped together awful poems. I created and penned an Uncanny X-Men parody that I sold to other 7th graders during lunchtime. I wrote a couple of hacky screenplays that, thankfully, remain on a USB drive for none to see. The projects were mainly a way for me to escape some of the stress that came with growing up in the crime-filled 1980s- and 1990s-era Coney Island.

I was never a troublemaker, but I got into the typical troubles that teens get into in a large, connected metropolis. I grew up in the projects, and ran with peddlers, but the only time steel touched my wrists was when I got caught hopping a train turnstile on West 8th St. I had goals, and knew that getting involved in negative activities would ruin my pursuit of attending CES, covering E3, visiting Japan, and sitting on a panel at a geek-related function to talk nerd stuff.

All of those dreams, and more, eventually became reality. This isn’t a self-high five moment. I simply highlight these accomplishments because those memories comfort me whenever I begin to kick myself. They also inspire me to chase more.

It would be easy to coast on those successes, but now is the time to focus on new goalposts, ones that will serve as the fuel that propels me through the second half of my existence. They represent not just my future, but my personal shift from career goals to life goals.

  • Continue expanding my economic ability to walk away from anything (AKA, “Fuck You Money”)
  • Help even more black people achieve their goals
  • Create a successful podcast
  • Travel more
  • Make art

They’re a mix of passion, financial, and “leaving a legacy” projects. And the best part about the plans? I’m starting them at exactly the right time in my life.

*Image courtesy of Chrysalis/EMI Records 

$1 nyc pizza

New York City pizza is a bland concoction of disappointment

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Chicago vs. New York is one of the nation’s greatest rivalries. I’m not talking Bulls-Knicks , Bears-Giants, or Cubs-Mets. The true battlefront, the place where the mid-west and east square off in dirty slobberknockers, is in cheese, sauce, and dough.

Pizza. But you knew this from the title.

New York City is my home, but I’m a pizza agnostic. I love deep dish, classic New York-style slice, and Sicilian. Good pizza is just good pizza. But I can say without hesitation that New York pizza has transformed into a bland concoction of disappointment. It wasn’t always this way.

The Big Apple once overflowed with pizza goodness. Not that long ago, say the late-1990s to the  mid-2000s, you could buy a slice for $1 and enjoy a fatty, flavorful, world-renowned plain slice. A large plain slice. One so voluminous that you could use it to tarp Yankee Stadium during a rain delay. A slice so mighty that you’d be required to fold it, so that “you can pour the grease directly into your mouth,” as my colleague Max Eddy described it (albeit in derogatory fashion).

Your buck bought a mouthful of magic that came courtesy of significant amounts of well-flavored sauce and tasty, stretchy cheese. New York City pizza was once the perfect between-meal snack that you could enjoy upon strolling into any old school Italian pie joint. 

Now, we’ve got to put up with heinous $1 pizza. A small slice. Barely any sauce. A smattering of cheese. It resembles a dough-tomato sauce-cheese combo that would look at home emerging from an Easy-Bake Oven. Unfortunately, this hideous mockery of a $1 slice is the current face of New York City pizza and has ruined this great city’s pizza reputation.

It’s not as though there are just a handful of these places—they’re everywhere. Near the Port Authority. On the outskirts of Chinatown. On 125th St. A shop that sells solid pizza, on the other hand, is a bit harder to find, and will set you back between $3 to $5 per slice; a truly delicious, premium bite that caters to discerning palettes pushes the price closer to $5 or more. 

Unfortunately, as The Wall Street Journal points out, mid-range pizza shops, mainly in Manhattan, have slashed their prices in order to compete with the bargain basement shops. Naturally, that means ingredients are the first victims in the Great Pizza War. Some of my favorite places have suffered noticeable quality dips. The bottom end is booming, while the upper-tier is raking in profits. The dependable middle-class slice is vanishing. New York City’s pizza situation couldn’t be any more American.

Brigham Barnes believes that there some gold nuggets lodged in the $1 pizza muck. Barnes’s quest to find the city’s “most adequate dollar slice” has led the writer to several places I’ve frequented in the past, but have no desire to return to in the future. Though, I must admit that the author’s write-up about $1 Pizza Slice (yes, that’s the actual name!) makes the East Harlem shop sound like it sells pizza that embodies the heart of the one-buck slice that I used to love back in the day.

So, until I visit $1 Pizza Slice, I will stick to my usual joints that make delicious pizza, but at high price. The current pizza landscape demands opening your wallet so that you enjoy the bread, sauce, and cheese combo that has somehow become incredibly simple to muck up in recent years. Desperate times, it seems, call for premium tastes.

Image courtesy of Serious Eats.