I've discussed Sal & Carmine's in these chronicles on numerous occasions, and it is well known in these parts that I absolutely love it. Sal and Carmine's can waver a tad, but it generally serves the most flavorful slice in history.
Given the handcrafted, artisanal nature of the pies, the cradles of saucy and cheesy bliss are far from a perfect circle, and are often enough almost oblong in nature. Further, the slicing strategy is curious, at best. All of this being the case, within any pizza pie, there is considerable variation in slice size.
Today I arrived for a slice, and, as usual, I managed to be handed one of the smaller slices. As I walked home, I felt depressed that, yet again, I received a tiny specimen. I wondered, is this a sign? Or, is the universe against me? Or, is there something rotten in my soul that attracts tiny specimens?
Another way to look at it: maybe I should ask for one of the bigger slices? Yet the stare of Carmine deters such a tactic. Instead, I will accept my tiny specimen fate.
