The Plain Slice Is the Whole Game
May 7, 2026 · Jay De Natale
The plain cheese is always first. First slice, first pie I order. Everything else comes after.
Standing up. Out of the box. Midnight on the couch. Walking down Abbot Kinney with a paper plate folded in half. That's the slice I'm chasing.
Growing up, I was the king of the cheese slice. Didn't matter where we were, didn't matter what else was on the menu, that's what I wanted. Always. Not because I didn't know better. Because I did.
The plain slice tells you everything. No toppings to hide behind. No distractions. Just dough, sauce, cheese. If it's off, you know immediately. If it's right, it hits in a way nothing else does.
That's the standard here. The undercarriage is firm, crisp, well-done. Not burnt, not soft. You should hear it when you fold it. If it flops, we missed. The crust isn't a prop. No oversized puffy rim. It's part of the bite, crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside. That comes from time. Fermentation. Paying attention.
The sauce leads. Bright. Clean. You taste tomato, not sugar. You smell basil before you even take a bite.
And the cheese, this is the whole point. Melted clean. No grease sitting on top. No rubbery pull. It should melt into the sauce and become the slice. That's the mootz. That's the game.
Simple on purpose. No shortcuts. No hiding. I'm not chasing novelty. I'm not building a menu to distract you. I'm chasing the slice I've wanted my whole life. The one you don't think about. The one you just go back for.
The plain slice. That's it.