To be precise, he had to wait 53 minutes for a pizza. That's pretty crazy for pizza from a truck. That said, he was moderately impressed with the flavor of the special, topped with sausage, peppers, meatballs, onions, and pepperoni, but lamented their soggy tips and relatively flavorless crust.
It's been a year and they've now got a permanent gig at The Lot On Tap, the open-air bar/food truck scene under the 30th street end of the High Line park that runs from the Meatpacking District to Chelsea. How do they stack up these days?
First off, they've made major strides in improving their timing. It could be that Adam happened to go when there were particularly long lines or they hadn't quite figured out their oven situation, but I had my pie in my hands within 8 minutes of ordering. That said, it still had most of the basic problems that Adam mentioned the first go around.
Thing is, Eddie's truck does not make their pizza with pizza dough. That's right. Their pizza is built on a sheeted circular cut-out. It's rolled and stamped, not tossed or stretched. It resembles a large tortilla more than a pizza crust.
Order your pie, and the cook pulls a pre-formed crust off of a large stack, spreads a thin layer of herb-heavy tomato sauce all the way to the edges, then haphazardly layers on cheese and toppings before throwing the whole thing into a 650°F deck oven for 6 minutes (much better than the 30 minutes for Adam's pie).
My pie looked a lot better than Adam's as well. Some decent charred bits around the edges (like a good bar pie should have), along with some nice spotting on the bottom. The slices were as thin as cardstock, but showed some major crispness—you could hold them out straight even with a full load of toppings on the end.
Now the bad news: The crust is still flavorless, existing as a vehicle to deliver toppings to your mouth and nothing more. Don't expect any chew, any hole structure, or any real flavor. It's crisp, and that's about it.
The toppings impart enough flavor to make the thing edible, but there's no hiding the fact that what you're getting is run-of-the-mill, low-grade pepperoni slices that are flabby (not crisp), and meatballs and sausage that are salty enough, but not particularly flavorful. And, unfortunately, there's no browning on the toppings whatsoever.
The best thing to add to the pies is the pickled peppers, which give a pleasant hit of heat and tang—some real flavor to rescue an otherwise dull pie.
I think perhaps the reason my pie came so fast is that these days, there's not much of a line at the truck, and it's not that hard to see why. At least there's been one major improvement since the truck left its old street-side locations: you can now drink while you wait for your pie.
Eddies's Pizza Truck
About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Managing Editor of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.