Whenever people ask me what is my most disliked food, if I’m being honest, I gotta say pizza. The flat sickness of cheap buffets and overpriced bistros has worn me down and out in my forty years on this rock; it’s all the same to me, just give me a half-baked Totino’s Party Pizza topped with wet cigarette butts and I’ll be mostly fine.
And then, like a real wiseguy, I went to Falcone’s Pizzeria.