Always on the quest for the perfect pizza, especially in New York, I asked my server during breakfast what her favorite New York style pizza was. She responded after some consideration that we should take the subway to Brooklyn to Roberta’s Pizza. We were well dressed and in Manhattan at the time, so I am not sure if she was messing with us, or if she really just loved the place.
After about an hour on the subway getting on and off and the stations appearing more and more disheveled we finally made it to our stop, which was 1.1 miles from our destination. I was not happy to be walking a mile in Brooklyn, and as there are apparently no cabs in this part of town we walked.
The neighborhoods became increasingly less desirable (much like the subway ride) as we neared the area where the restaurant was ostensibly located. And we finally came to an intersection that my GPS said was exactly where this restaurant was to be found. Looking around I saw some storage lots, what appeared to be an illegal chop shop, transients, but didn’t see a restaurant.
Then as I peered through the graffiti, and in front of what looking like a dumpster, I saw it, a small beaten up sign that read, “Roberta’s”. There was an entrance that looked like I might be entering a whore house, and nothing indicating a restaurant, but we had come this far, so we ventured inside.
Once inside there was a lovely little restaurant, wood fired pizza oven and very respectable pizza and wine list. The food was quite fantastic, and it was fun. They blared underground hip-hop over the radio, and it was, very much so, a Hip little spot. Perhaps I am not hipster enough, but it was quite an adventure. The kicker though, once we got back to our hotel in Manhattan, there was a farmers market going on next door…and there was a wood fired brick oven making up pizza – and sure as hell, it was Roberta’s with a mobile oven. Damn, well at least I got a T – Shirt from Roberta’s to commemorate the experience. Check out the photo’s…