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Openings and First Reports: Artichoke
I didn't like Artichoke and am very disappointed in all who wait on line for access to so inelegant a slice of pizza. The artichoke slice is not pizza; it is a gratin. And though the toppings on the regular slice are good and the color of the crust is nicely blackened, the texture of the crust is awful: thick, heavy, charred plaster board.
To be brief, this pizza lacks both the elegance of a New York masterpizza and the thrill of a oozy, on-the-brink of a great NYC slice.
Critical Condition
BLT is an abomination and insulting to the food intelligence of New Yorkers. I applaud Mr. Meehan for being rightly critical of BLT Burger, yet the praise of the New Yorker writer and others leads me to utter despair.
I was hopeful the burger efforts of so accomplished a chef as Laurent Tourondel would produce either a great success or, at worst, an intriguing and even commendable failure. But this is neither. It's too pricey, too inauthentic and too pretentious in its calculation to qualify as a burger joint, yet the small burger, poor fries, hapless onion rings and desultory accessories fall far of anything resembling a serious burger experience. Moreover, the design and execution is entirely oblivious to the New York experience. Is it possible that Tourondel has never sampled a good or merely representative New York burger or golden, twice-fried, hand-cut frites?
I urge you, Ed, and others not to accept this kind of effort. Please let Tourondel know how this much this shameful effort tarnishes two brands: "BLT" and "NYC." And don't let him comforted by the frat boys and buffoons lapping this stuff up.
Daniel Young
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During my last visit to UPN I walked out. The crust of the pizza at the table next to ours was all bubbles from rim to center, pushing cheese from a good 70 percent of the surface area. The egomaniacal pizzaiollo/proprietor, who ostensibly takes great pride is his attention to purity and authenticity and is capable of producing a beautiful pizza, ought to be ashamed of himself. That pie should never have left his kitchen. And fearing that I might end up paying top dollar for a near topless pizza (other nearby pies also appeared to be bubbly), I walked out.