 Robbie Mac's Pizza
Most people, especially once they've moved away from home and stopped suckling from their mammy's teat, ultimately find "their" pizza place – a comfortable little pizza place near where they live, where they can get dependable pizza at a fair price. Pizza is a fact of life for young adults these days, and seems to be taking the country by storm. The hearty pies with vegetable toppings, meat, and cheese have really struck a chord with the collective American appetite. It's almost been enough to curb the ferocious anti-Italian rhetoric that pervades our daily speech, if only because our mouths are fused shut with sticky cheese.
What the hell was that? It started normal, morphed into a quasi-newsreel type narrative, and ended in la-la land. Typical Loud Bassoon restaurant review, I'm sad to say. I have to go to greater lengths nowadays to find humor in these things … god forbid I actually just review the place and be done with it. At any rate, what I was getting at is that every neighborhood has one good pizza place, and fellow staffer Crimedog has declared this to be the one in North Hollywood. I must say, I am thoroughly convinced, based on my one experience with Robbie Mac's. I was visiting Crimedog and his "companion" at their North Hollywood home, and one night we decided to rent a movie and get a pizza, for we were tired of the endless blurry stream of late-night parties and Hollywood hot tubs we'd been cruising during my LA stay. There's only so many times you can go down on Angie Dickinson or Fred Ward before you're craving the homebody life, especially when all the promised pilots and movie deals never seem to come through. "Sure, I've got a part just right for you" said Fred Ward from his Hollywood hot tub, his blinding, bulging erection surfacing like a periscope from the flatulent waters below.
See what I mean? Totally uncalled for. I'm supposed to be talking about pizza, and there's a remark about Fred Ward's gigantic, deformed genitalia, out of nowhere. Oh well, onward. We ordered a pizza from Robbie Mac's, which bills itself as "Authentic, Fresh & Healthy." It's no case of wrong billing – this place offers a wide variety of healthy, tasty pizzas for every diet, meat, Veg. or Vegan, plus an assortment of pastas, salads, and foccocia sandwhiches (their spelling). I seem to have entirely missed the boat on the whole foccacia phenomenon. It seems to have made itself known in the late 80s and early 90s, when all I was eating was Golden Grahams. Following a brief hospitalization, I was able to get my diet back on track and by 1997 I was head restaurant reviewer for this website. Apparently the editors, if there are any, do not read my submissions, because I've never been questioned on all the gratuitous grossness I sprinkle throughout the reviews. Perhaps they assume that restaurant reviews are bound to be innocuous. Well, I think I have proved how edgy they can be!
Oh, um, the pizza. We ordered a California Cheeseless pizza with sun dried tomatoes, artichokes, and garlic – it was severely tasty and delicious, though very heavy on the garlic. I don't mind, really, I mean, who am I going to kiss, on the mouth, anyway? The crust was very good, the service was friendly and professional, and in general I can completely see why Crimedog and his chippie du jour frequent the joint. The price was a bit high (I think it was around $20), but well worth it for the quality. I seem to recall a small dining area, but it's mainly take-out. The one thing that did concern me was the presence on the menu of something called "Buttered Garlic Knots," which just sounds obscene.
Review by Bought A. Mai, September 1999 |