Why are these people standing in line for 40 minutes at 4 o’clock on a beautiful sunday afternoon?

Lo, behold, and salivate:

The arguments about who makes the best pizza in this city, or the most authentic crust, or uses the most original kind of oven, will continue for as long as New Yorkers have opinions. So in perpetuity, then. When it tastes this good, allow me to say that I don’t care. They can all be the best in my book, so long as I get to eat them.

(And why couldn’t I get a picture of a whole Patsy Grimaldi’s pizza? Because the ten second delay while I got my camera out apparently demanded too much restraint from some people. You know who you are.)