Outta Sight

On a recent trip to New York, my first, I was encouraged to try L’industrie in Brooklyn twice. 

After a year of regular visits to Outta Sight Pizza, L’industrie was New York pizza as I had imagined it.

My order remains the same at both places:

Two slices, pepperoni and cheese, dressed with picked basil, grated parm, a drizzle of hot honey, and a squiggle of ranch.

On a recent trip to the Tenderloin, I wrote a poem in the Ha Ra bathroom while I was out drinking with Vinny —

When you pee in a tenderloin bar,
You watch the bubbles float to the top
And remember that you’re alive.

Then you walk outside
and realize that the homeless people
are just as alive as you are.
And you’re fucked up.
- 7/15/2025, out with Vinny, Ha Ra

At the time, Vinny was Outta Sight’s first mate. 
Prior to that, he was the best pizzaiolo I ever worked with.

When I showed Vinny that poem,
he said it sounds like I don’t spend much time in the Tenderloin. That hurt. And he was right.

When there’s a gun in a movie, there’s always a gun on the poster.

When there’s a story about the Tenderloin,
there’s always a mention of homelessness.

When I wrote a poem about the Tenderloin,
I mentioned homelessness. Obviously.

It hasn’t always been this way. Old front pages of the Tenderloin Times are displayed above the urinals of Ha Ra’s men's room. These stories describe the Tenderloin as a neighborhood like any other, “The Central City.”

I eat in the Tenderloin a lot. My favorite pizza, my favorite pho, and my favorite banh mi all live in The Central City, within three blocks of one another.

But I do not spend my time in the Tenderloin. As often as I find myself in the Tenderloin, I rarely run into anyone I know.

Vinny spends his time in the Tenderloin. He takes shots with the bartenders and exchanges small talk with the guy who sells him cigarettes. The Tenderloin has a lot going for it, it just needs more people like Vinny. 

Before Outta Sight, Vinny and I cooked together. Vinny made it look easy so they made things harder for him — more prep work and less help when the bosses realized he could work the pizza station by himself. Eventually, Vinny had enough and called Eric, who had recently opened Outta Sight. 

Before Outta Sight, Eric fell into cardiac arrest while working service as a sous chef at Mister Jiu’s. As far as I understand, Eric was pronounced dead, resuscitated, and decided he was going to give 100% to everything he set his mind to for the rest of his life.

Today, when Eric or Outta Sight is the subject of a story, they talk about the heart attack. If it bleeds it leads and, in defense of the press, he fucking died. But there’s so much more to say about his pizza.

There was a time when you had to go to New York for New York pizza — crisp reheated slices, salty cheese, and sweet tomato sauce.

Call it divine intervention, Eric and his partner Peter figured it out. Outta Sight slices are touched by God and the Central City is their promised land.