Sbarro

Blech.
Not only does this Sbarro serve old pizza that’s been sitting out for hours, but it’s unnecessarily dirty — both the restaurant and the pizza. I felt like my pizza had been made days before — even after sitting in the oven for a few minutes, the cheese was like a congealed block of cement. The sauce is super-​sweet, and there’s not a lot of it.
This is so NOT the NY pizza experience. Head down the street and eat anywhere — anywhere! — else.

Of COURSE I would never eat here if it were my choice, but when you’re in New York with 5 true New JERseyans, frightened to venture outside the familiar… you’re probably going to end up either in A.) TGI Fridays B.) Olive Garden or C.) Fucking Sbarro. FUCKING. SBARRO.
Not only do I not like Sbarro, but this location is particularly heinous. It’s inexplicably crowded, has hobos sleeping on benches in the eating area, and just has this indescribable, overwhelming feeling of filth. Plus, there was a little kinky black hair in my friend’s cold, congealed pizza. That’s horrible! Was it a pube? Was it not? I really hope it was, because that would be funny. For me, not him.

Several years back I was in NYC with my mom and my nine year old niece. We had flown in that afternoon and had tickets to see the Lion King at the New Amsterdam Theater.
On the flight out, my niece kept on and on how much she was craving pizza. A long cab ride in from JFK and a grueling check in process at our hotel left us super hungry-​like.
Ok, Stephanie (niece), here we are, we are in NYC, some say the best pizza in the country is in this city, now where do you want to go for dinner? It was her choice because, well it’s always a nine year olds choice.
And where would she take us? Grimaldi’s? Lombardi’s?
Not so much, as we end up here. Yes, the same Sbarro you can find at any mall. We had freaking stupid MALL PIZZA!!!
Shame on me for letting a nine year old decide on my pizza.