co.

I eat a lot of pizza.  (No, really?  No shit, Sherlock.)   While my pal Andrew and I have been trying to hit all of the major (mostly sit-down) pizzerias in the metro New York area, most of the pizza I eat comes from random slice joints, usually on nights when I’m too tired to be bothered with making dinner.   On the nights when I’m itching for pizza and feeling relatively flush, though, I’ll hit Co. (aka Company), over in Chelsea, where more often than not I’ll order a glass of the Roter Veltliner and a simple margherita pie and sit at the bar for a nice, solitary dinner.   If my favorite barkeep, Walter B.*, is working, that lone glass of Veltliner will usually turn into two, sometimes three.  And of course I’ll leave much later and tipsier than anticipated, my belly full of awesomeness.

Since I know one of the folks who runs the kitchen, I’ll occasionally get an extra something or other to try out, like one of their new salads or desserts.  I’ve had most of their menu at this point, and it’s all pretty solid (though I have to admit, I’m more a fan of their tomato-based pies — but that might be a general preference sort of thing).   When my parents came to town a few weeks ago, we ended up eating there a couple of times, once for dinner and again for lunch before they headed off to the airport.  We feasted rather handsomely, gobbling down two different salads, the veal meatball and spinach pies, and ending our meal with an ice cream sundae topped with both peanuts and pomegranate seeds (delicious!) and their great banoffee pie.   And though I like eating at the bar, it’s such a fun, rare treat to sit at one of the tables and spread out a bit.  I don’t think it has the best pizza in the city — that honor goes to Patsy’s or Totonno’s, and don’t make me choose — but Co. is my favorite place to actually sit back and enjoy the pizza at hand.

* His name is Walter B. !  I know, right?!