Alright, fine. Maybe I am just another drunk girl stumbling down the street every time that I want to go to Greco’s New York Pizzeria. Maybe the urge for the cheesy goodness, the massive slices, and the dripping grease does only strike when my blood alcohol level rivals that of a bottle of tequila.

Maybe that’s true, but that didn’t stop me from giving Greco’s the benefit of the doubt as I walked in, dead sober, at midnight on a Tuesday.

Greco’s is a chain of ten pizza joints throughout LA and the Valley. Here at Hollywood and Cahuenga, it caters to the starving and drunk patrons who fall over themselves coming out of the neighboring bars and clubs.

The one-room restaurant is decorated in a classic red and green palette, with a long counter to place orders, a few high, round tables, and several booths. Flourescant lights that never seem to shut off or dim even slightly cover the ceiling.

Tuesday found the place unsurprisingly empty -- just me and my partner, a shady-looking kid, and the occasional street person poking their head in to yell a word or dance to the Top 40 blaring through the restaurant.

Taking advantage of the rare lack of line, my partner breezed up to the register and ordered his usual – two slices of pepperoni. I decided to take my chances on a meatball sub. The total was $14 – not bad for slices that equal at least half a pie. We paid, sat down, and waited about two minutes.

“Pepperoni slices!!” the counter guy hollered. My partner went up to grab them, and my heart lept as he placed them down on the table. They were as glorious as my drunken recollection told me they would be.

The first bite was delicious. Very, very hot, but delicious. The crispy, thin crust snapped ever so slightly with each bite, and there was the perfect amount of cheese and pepperonis. My only complaint is that I did have to resort to the high-school-diet maneuver of blotting the grease off with my napkin.

“Meatball sub!!” I went up to the counter to get it -- it was an immediate killjoy. A dry, flakey looking roll stuffed with almost melted cheese and grey meatballs, it was a sorry sight compared to the pizza. Even the side of fries looked bland, just the right pathetic shade of yellow to let me know that they weren’t going to be crispy enough, they had no seasoning whatsoever, and in fact I’d be lucky if they even had salt.

The sub lived up to its looks. There was nowhere near enough sauce, the meatballs were flavorless, and normally I feel like anything with that much cheese has to be good, but no – not even the cheese could salvage it. I ate a few bites and threw the rest away.

Stick with the pizza at this place – it’s a sure thing, which is probably exactly what a lot of its late night patrons are hoping to find.

Greco's New York Pizzeria
6814 Hollywood Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90028
(323) 469-1696
Sunday - Thursday, 10:30am - 3:30am
Friday and Saturday, 10:30am - 4:30am
CASH ONLY, TAKEOUT AVAILABLE

Photos by Jessica for LAist