A few weeks ago, I went to a party at my friend Zaida’s house.

When I was on my way, I met my friend Luis at Pizza Palace on Post and Dyckman; also known as Johnny’s to long-time admirers.

When I got there, I told Luis I was buying a pie for the party. A pie at Johnny’s would cost us about $17-18.00 and we were already there so it was the easy way to go.

But no, I decided to make an assumption that as most of the people attending Zaida’s party lived West of Broadway (I hate saying that. I never grew up with divisions, but these real estate bozos have made it like this), I would be better off buying ‘Grandpa’s Pizza.’

My exact words: ‘Most of the people going there like Grandpa’s and go there more than Johnnie’s. So I’ll eat my slices here and they can have pizza from their Pizza God.’

Luis says: ‘I think it’s just easier to buy a Johnnie’s pie man.’

I went against his advice.

So we get to Grandpa’s Pizza and there is nobody waiting on line. There are people seated, but again, no one waiting in line.

1 minute

2 minutes

3 minutes

4 minutes

5.

After the fifth minute, when close to a line of six people formed we received a response.

Employee: ‘What do you want?’

*The guy obviously went to La Escuela of Customer Service*

Me: How much is a pie?

Employee: *looks around for like 2 minutes, asks people and no one has the answer* ‘$22.00?’

Me: *eyes widen* You said $22.00?

Employee: Yes 22.

Me: Luis, the same amount of slices at Johnny’s are $17-18.00 right?

Luis: Yep.

Me: Just give me the next smallest pie.

Employee: That’ll be 18.71 for the pie.

Me: The next smallest? Damn.

We then brought it upstairs to the party and everyone was eating all the other delicious food already there. So, the pizza sat there for a while. It became a bit ‘cold.’

Now, I believe that the true test of a slice is how it tastes when it’s not warm.

I grabbed a Grandpa’s slice maybe an hour after buying it, bit it, sneaked behind Zaida and threw it in the garbage.

Zaida goes: ‘You should have brought Johnny’s.’

Claudio: ‘I just thought everyone here would like this.’

Zaida: ‘If you gon’ buy it, I’d figure you’d want to like it too right?’

Claudio: ‘I just took one for the team’

That’s when her son passed by and I asked him if he’s ever been to Johnny’s and he said no.

I asked him what he thinks of Grandpa’s and he shrugged his shoulders.

His exact words: ‘They are kind of rude in there. They got mad at me once for asking them to correctly do my order when they were bumbling it around.’

Rude is an understatement.

Whenever anyone steps into Johnny’s, they feel the old and new Inwood. When people step into Grandpa’s, I, at least, feel the new Inwood, but not the old.

While this Inwood is lovely too, it can also be a bit rude and obnoxious.

When you go to a neighborhood spot, you want to feel like just that, a neighbor. You don’t want to feel like just another person. That’s what I’ve felt like when I’ve gone to Grandpa’s. Now, I have obviously seen people go in there and carry conversations, but they were few and far in between. It just didn’t feel as authentic as Johnny’s.

Johnny’s is a bare bones, no air conditioning, serve pizza, beef patties, and ziti spot. No other fancy Italian dishes. No fancy furnishings. No brick oven.

When you step in there, what you see is what you get.

Now, I’m not here to try to convince people over to Johnnie’s. Your taste buds are your taste buds. But I did take the time to objectively compare both spots.

Decor: Grandpa’s is much easier on the eye than Johnny’s. But, like I mentioned earlier, I prefer the classic, old style of Johnny’s.

Still, I’ll give GP’s the win.

Grandpa 1-0

Delivery: Grandpa’s delivers

While Johnny’s doesn’t deliver because they do triple the business of Grandpa’s even with lower prices, it still sucks that they don’t deliver.

GP 2-0

Affordability: Johnny’s

With the rise in wheat prices, it’s no shock to anyone that slices have reached downtown price points.

But Grandpa’s charges 2.75 for a slice. Johnny’s charges 2.25. That’s a difference. Four slices in a box will run you 11.00 at GP’s. At Johnny’s it will run you 9.00.

2-1 GP

Thickneess: Johnny’s

Their slices mirror the richness and thickness of the thighs of the women in our neighborhoods which I appreciate #YesIJustSaidThat

2-2 Tie

Healthiness: Grandpa’s

My friend Karla says Johnny’s is the ‘slice of death.’ She prefers the less greasy, smaller Grandpa slices. While healthy is the wrong word to use when talking pizza, I’ll just give GP the win.

3-2 GP

Customer Service: Johnny’s

This is not even close.

3-3 Tie

Juicyness:

This isn’t close either.

Biting into a Johnny’s slice makes me feel like one of the vampires on True Blood when he bites a human. It just gushes out and tastes great (not that I have bitten people or ever will).

Johnny’s 4-3

Popularity: Johnny’s by miles. When you have a Facebook page with people commenting from Greece to Colorado about your slices, your competition is rendered helpless. Currently, close to 3400 people like the Johnny’s pizzeria page.

5-3 Johnny’s

And the winner of the 1st ever Inwood Pizza Championship is *drumroll* Pizza Palace aka Johnny’s.

Recap:

In the end, you guys really decide who you like and don’t like. All I’m saying is if you never had a slice of Johnnie’s, take a walk over to the ‘East Side’ (I hate saying that too as if this part of town was as wide as Harlem to call something East) of Dyckman.

While this is about me being a staunch defender of Johnnie’s, it’s mostly about how people who have moved up here and have barely tried anything past Piper’s Kilt.

All I’m saying is that the best burgers may not be at Piper’s Kilt, they may be at Jimbo’s (Piper’s has the best though). The best Latin food may be Dyckman Express and not Nueva Espana. The best frio frio or pastelito lady may be on Nagle. The greatest milkshake man on earth is on Nagle and Arden. The best chinese food may be Panda House on Nagle and Ellwood and not U-Like on 207 and Broadway.

The root of all this is for people not to just know 3-4 blocks of a neighborhood, but get in touch with the whole n’hood.

The end…