expectations reduce joy.

franny's 295 flatbush, park slope

i hate anything and anyone who tries too hard. this joint tries to be something that its not, and therefore fails to be what it really is: a pizzeria. a pizzeria can be a wonderful place to dine, with wonderful food and wonderful people who make and serve the food, but a pizzeria is not a white tablecloth establishment. the waitstaff does not need to fold my napkin when i walk away from the table.

shorty and i were starved, so we order lots of food. the brussel sprouts salad was a grand disappointment. brussel sprouts shine when its roasty and the sweetness has been brough forth with slow roasting, and some sweetness with maple syrup or balsamic. this tasted crude, coarse, raw. the word "uncooked' or "undercooked" came to mind. it also should not have been $10 at a pizzeria.

the blood orange salad was a nice idea, in the abstract. blood oranges happen to be in season. they are intense, juicy, and wonderful, and to serve them with blanched red onions is a great idea. but why serve it in a pool of olive oil? why the red pepper flakes? i kept choking. the heat did the salad no good.

the pizza was a terrible terrible disappointment. the crust was charred, the pizza was small, and it was not special. its a crime to charge $14 for a 10" pizza. ive had better frozen pizzas, and all of a sudden $4.69 a great frozen pizza doesnt seem so expensive after all.