So, the pizza odyssey continues—this time, taking me eastward to Eagle Rock, a land where Casa Bianca has been king since the dawn of time (give or take a few years). I had ventured to this L.A. pizza mecca before and...hated it. But before my effigy is burned, I'm giving it another chance, then checking out a new slice on the block called Brownstone. On the way out of Eagle Rock, I stopped at Folliero’s, a Highland Park institution, and ended my quest at Downtown L.A.’s new and improved Purgatory Pizza.
Imagine “Easy Rider,” but swap recreational drug use with pizza consumption and Peter Fonda’s Harley with a 2002 Kia Rio.
Four pizzas. Five hours. One stomach. Let's roll!
Pizza #1: Casa Bianca
Casa Bianca makes two demands: One, that you’re not hungry before 4 p.m.—because that’s when they open. Two, that you have at least an hour to burn milling around in a cramped pizza joint, staring at 8-by-10s of the Eagle Rock pizza staple’s many celebrity fans—because that’s how long it usually takes to get a seat.
After waiting an hour and forty-five minutes to get seated and another fifteen to order, you figure this pizza’s going to be amazing, right? Wrong. The crust tastes like a soggy biscuit. A soft, soggy biscuit. A soft, soggy biscuit that’s about as authentically Italian as pizza-flavored Combos. As I alternate chewing and making grossed-out faces, I eavesdrop on a guy telling his date that the first couple times he tried Casa Bianca's pizza he “didn't get it,” but it grew on him. Not a good sign.
The verdict: Casa Bianca roughly translates to “House of Soggy Biscuit.”
Pizza #2: Brownstone
I make the short walk along Colorado Blvd. to Brownstone, a pepperoni-by-the-giant-slice joint just a pizza stone’s throw from Casa Bianca. The friendly couple who own the place greet me at the door, and I’ve got two piping hot slices in my hand in less time than it takes to get your name on the list at Casa Bianca.
These slices are ginormous, spilling off the plates and directly into my mouth. (Think elephantiasis of the slice.) The crust is thin, the sauce fruity and, while it doesn't blow my mind, my belly is satisfyingly warmed.
The verdict: Hot, foldable, loveably accessible—these guys are open all day long. The Mario to Casa Bianca’s Bowser.
Pizza #3: Folliero’s
I leave Eagle Rock and head for Folliero’s in Highland Park. The neighborhood favorite is a casual family spot, with a homey feel. It’s also home to a small-size pizza, which has gone the way of the dodo in pizza chains years ago, along with the country’s small-size waists and bellies. (Zing!)
The pizza comes scorchingly hot, with a sauce straight out of the Chuck E. Cheese’s recipe book and a layer of melty, stringy mozzarella. Still, all the gooey cheese in the world can’t mask the fatal flaw of the Folliero’s pizza: the dough, which tastes undercooked and floury. Gross!
The verdict: If I want to eat uncooked dough, I’d rather have a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough Ice Cream.
Pizza #4: Purgatory Pizza
Still on a natural pizza high, I decide to give one more pizza joint a try on the way home. I stop for a sample of Purgatory Pizza, a small Downtown pizza parlor that recently reopened much to the delight of the arty-loft-dweller crowd.
Like an episode of “Two and a Half Men,” there’s nothing particularly wrong with Purgatory... but there’s also not much going particularly right. This is a totally decent, totally forgettable pie. And, if given the chance, a pepperoni pizza from Purgatory would probably prove a more capable sitcom star than Charlie Sheen.
The verdict: If heaven is a fresh-from-the-oven slice in the streets of Rome and hell is school-cafeteria pizza, Purgatory Pizza truly belongs in pizza purgatory.
Amir Kenan is contributing editor for Metromix Los Angeles.
