The New Yorker Devotes Primo Review Space to Pizza in Cones

Three month's after its opening, the gimmicky, Midtown novelty K! Pizzacone has its first real, professional review. And it's in the New Yorker of all places. Why, when there is finite review space, would they focus on a place that was only frequented by non-tourists for about one day? It's hard to know why people do the things they do. But here's the assessment:

As you work your way down, you realize that the bottom of the cone retains all the heat, and worries persist that the sizzling gloop will leak onto your lap. The dough, perhaps by structural necessity, nears cardboard heavy. That every bite tastes like run-of-the-mill pizza isn’t the most upsetting drawback. Paying a premium to eat a cone of pizza in the nucleus of touristdom makes even the most confident native feel like a chump.