er in serendipity and I'm also a big believer in good pizza.I once drove 2000 miles from Iowa City to Port Townsend, Washington for a slice from Waterfront Pizza...hey it's good stuff.
Tonight I was feeling some hunger and hearing some growling from the old Buddha belly. The clock was pushing past 10 p.m. and most of the restaurants in North Beach were pulling the plugs on the neon signs. I pushed on thinking I'd find something worthwhile - this is San Francisco after all.
Standing on the corner of Green St., I spotted a colorful, yet non-descript sign simply stating: Pizza Slice. I thought to myself - "that's exactly what I need"
From the sidewalk, I scanned and salivated at the deep, square pans lining the window. My search was over. I stepped inside, bellied up to the bar and rubbed elbows with everyone else in the know about this place. I ordered a square and washed it down with a beer. Mmmmm, that was so good...I ordered another.
Have you ever been in a restaurant so perfectly cluttered that you know nobody planned for it to turn out that way? I'm not talking anything like that crap they put on the walls at Applebee's. Golden Boy's walls are plastered with photos, stickers, and random paraphernalia and memorabilia from long forgotten everyday San Francisco life. Combine this with an inspiring soundtrack filling the narrow space along witha damn good slice of pizza and you've got magic happening here.
I learned from the lady sitting next to me that the place has been around for awhile now and that I would probably find it listed in guide books should I go looking.
To paraphrase: "Guide book? I don't need no stinking guide book." Who needs a guide book when I've got serendipity leading me?
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