text: Okay - first the good news - the pizza is so good they must put CRACK in the sauce. From the cheese to the crust, to the sauce, it's good old back East style thin yet chewy crust with real, nutty mozzarella and mild yet flavorful sauce. We literally got take out of this pizza for like 3 weeks in a row on Fridays till we got tired of no delivery availability (yes - as typical Amercians, we got SO lazy that not only do we not want to COOK the dinner, we also don't want to leave the couch to get it.)\n\nNow the bad news: Mostly everything else, and especially the service. On our last visit, we had the misfortune of having a waiter named Sinjin, (I kid you not) who had to be the last Neanderthal walking around the planet. He forgot what we wanted, we reminded him, he forgot to bring things we ordered, we reminded him; he forgot who got what, forgot to refill ANY drinks, and ultmimately forgot we had a coupon even though we reminded him throughout the meal, which resulted in another 20 minute wait while he tried to retrain himself to use the cash register. (We literally saw him scratching his head over the register as though it were some foreign object ready to bite him if he pecked the keys any more aggressively).  Sinjin (and what the hell kind of a name is that anyway? We are in Arrowhead, not the freakin' British Aisles! I think Sean McLaughlin's family had a hand in naming this one) was the last straw for our dining outings to NYPD. \n\nMy husband thought we should tip him SOMETHING, in hopes he would use it for a brain transplant at some time, but I insisted on leaving him a big fat ZERO with some pointed remarks about remembering at least ONE thing your diners ask of you during the course of an entire 80-dollar meal. My husband now refuses ever to set foot in there again out of sheer possible embarrassment of being known as one time Non Tippers. Sorry, but I ALWAYS tip generously when the service is good. When it's bad or nonexistent, the waitstaff needs to know it.\n\nWe now get take out, and only for the actual pizza, and only I venture in there myself with my non-tipper scarlet letter emblazoned on my chest. (not really - I saw \"Waiting! I use dark glasses and a Father Guido Sarducci mustache now! No pubes on MY pizza!)\n\nOn other menu items here: Everything else is, well, so-so, or as my Italian grandmother would say, mezz-a-mezz (wavering  hand motion included). Take the pizza home and leave the rest of that train wreck at NYPD.