In the first season of Sex and the City, only real New Yorkers knew that "the Church of Disco" was a real place, and that place was the Limelight. Like any club, it always seemed cooler in the past. I never went dancing there. I wasn't that cool. I did attend a few artsy events in the converted church on Sixth Avenue, but it didn't live up to the stories I'd heard from other people.

Despite any meaningful personal experience with the space, when the building was repurposed yet again last year, I was offended to hear that it had gone retail. Divided into booths like a flea market, most of the vendors sell pretentious, high-end, useless things. And they were sold out of the Rhubarb bitters I wanted.

When I heard that Grimaldi's pizza was opening a satellite restaurant on the ground floor, I was conflicted. Was this evidence that the Once-best had turned into the tourist trap that many claimed? Would the Limelight pull out a velvet rope again?

I tried the place after work on a Tuesday night.

The pizza was all i remembered Grimaldi's to be: thin, crisp crust, fresh mozzarella, light on the sauce. The pepperoni was small enough to fit into a whole bite. (this wasn't a formal testing, but a review was requested.). But this pizza had one thing that overshadowed everything else:

No line.

I walked in, asked for a table, and was seated immediately. The pizza went into the oven as soon as we ordered. The owner came by to make sure we knew that it would get cold quickly. Eight slices disappeared.

I can't trust my judgement. The anticipation and victory of claiming a slice while others watch makes DiFara's taste better. The wait for a table at Denino's is part of the ritual. If this blasphemous fancy mini mall can deliver an incredible pizza, any time I want it, a few blocks from work, is it really that special?

Of course it is.

Enjoy it now, before the crowds find out. I will give Grimaldi's Pizza in the Limelight 7 out of 8 slices