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With its inviting rust tones, exposed brick, and handwritten blackboard menu, Moon Pie feels like a warm new iteration of the classic neighborhood pizza joint—a relief as the likes of Domino’s and Subway creep ever farther into Alphabet City. The only problem is the pizza itself. Slices sit in a clear case until they’re yanked for reheating in a gargantuan black oven that dominates the front of the restaurant; dried-out toppings, oily cheese, and soggy medium-thick crust are the yield. Alternatives like mushy eggplant heros and droopy pastas in acidic tomato sauce don’t fare much better, and even side salads arrive limp. Whole pies, cooked to order, are a better bet. The tiny but thoughtful wine list is a bright spot here; even over a desiccated slice, the view of Avenue C looks a little lovelier through Moon Pie’s wraparound windows with a $6 glass of Los Cardos Malbec from Argentina or California’s Coppola Diamond Chardonnay in hand. — Michael Kaminer

Vegetarian pizza, $22; meat-lover pizza, $25