Diversionary tactics of some sort were called for in the midst of the tension and uncertainty that shrouded the locked-down Wesleyan campus the day after the shooting that took the life of a fellow student. Sarah J.’s father, Andy, renowned in our family as the “Camp Counselor,” announced he was arriving to provide the sorely needed diversion. As a man who would happily consume pizza for breakfast, lunch and dinner seven days a week, Andy declared that our mission was to find the best pizza in Connecticut!
As we prepared for the mission, Sarah W. placed a quick call to a friend in the French Quarter, because doesn’t everyone call New Orleans to get the name of the best pizza joint in Connecticut??!! Sarah’s source is a Wesleyan alum, so he knows his pizza and declared that we should head to Frank Pepe’s in New Haven. Eight adults, a sizable body pillow (hey, we only had seven seats) and one large wet dog piled into our well loved mini-van and we stealthily drove off campus under overcast skies toward Rt. 91. Otherwise known as “R” “T” 91 by Nicole, Andy’s trusty GPS guide with the sultry Australian accent, who led us more or less directly to our destination. (Those narrow one way streets are a bit tricky in the Little Italy ethnic enclave of New Haven.)
As we parked (somewhat illegally?) in the lot for Sally’s Apizzeria, Avi’s eyes lit up and I could tell he was entertaining thoughts of dining at Sally’s instead. Apparently there’s a never ending debate over who makes the best pizza – Sally’s or Pepe’s – but our taste of Sally’s would have to wait for another day. As it turns out, Sally’s is open for dinner only so we trooped to the opposite end of Wooster Street to devour Frank Pepe’s legendary “tomato pies.” We were fortunate to walk right in and sit right down. No lines, no waiting, which is not typical of your usual Pepe’s experience. A sign of the economic times or just three o’clock on an overcast Thursday afternoon??
A word of caution: don’t go to Pepe’s if you think you’d enjoy a salad, bread, pasta or any conceivable dish other than pizza. Frank Pepe’s sells pizza. Period. But as Sarah J.’s Dad is fond of saying, “You’re good at what you do a lot,” and Pepe’s “tomato pies” are worth the trip!
Our waitress informed us that a large pie serves three to four. Our party of eight decided to play it safe and up the ante. We ordered three large pies – a white clam pie that is Pepe’s signature dish, a plain cheese pie for the pizza purists at the table, and a half veggie special (onion, spinach, broccoli, pepper, mushroom) with half meat overload (bacon, sausage, pepperoni, salami) for the ultimate contradictory mix on a single pie.
The people who devoured the pies (l to r): Avi, Maggie, Katherine, Andy, Sarah J., Emily, Sarah W. and Dorothy (the photographer and guest blogger).
As we prepared for the mission, Sarah W. placed a quick call to a friend in the French Quarter, because doesn’t everyone call New Orleans to get the name of the best pizza joint in Connecticut??!! Sarah’s source is a Wesleyan alum, so he knows his pizza and declared that we should head to Frank Pepe’s in New Haven. Eight adults, a sizable body pillow (hey, we only had seven seats) and one large wet dog piled into our well loved mini-van and we stealthily drove off campus under overcast skies toward Rt. 91. Otherwise known as “R” “T” 91 by Nicole, Andy’s trusty GPS guide with the sultry Australian accent, who led us more or less directly to our destination. (Those narrow one way streets are a bit tricky in the Little Italy ethnic enclave of New Haven.)
As we parked (somewhat illegally?) in the lot for Sally’s Apizzeria, Avi’s eyes lit up and I could tell he was entertaining thoughts of dining at Sally’s instead. Apparently there’s a never ending debate over who makes the best pizza – Sally’s or Pepe’s – but our taste of Sally’s would have to wait for another day. As it turns out, Sally’s is open for dinner only so we trooped to the opposite end of Wooster Street to devour Frank Pepe’s legendary “tomato pies.” We were fortunate to walk right in and sit right down. No lines, no waiting, which is not typical of your usual Pepe’s experience. A sign of the economic times or just three o’clock on an overcast Thursday afternoon??
A word of caution: don’t go to Pepe’s if you think you’d enjoy a salad, bread, pasta or any conceivable dish other than pizza. Frank Pepe’s sells pizza. Period. But as Sarah J.’s Dad is fond of saying, “You’re good at what you do a lot,” and Pepe’s “tomato pies” are worth the trip!
Our waitress informed us that a large pie serves three to four. Our party of eight decided to play it safe and up the ante. We ordered three large pies – a white clam pie that is Pepe’s signature dish, a plain cheese pie for the pizza purists at the table, and a half veggie special (onion, spinach, broccoli, pepper, mushroom) with half meat overload (bacon, sausage, pepperoni, salami) for the ultimate contradictory mix on a single pie.
The people who devoured the pies (l to r): Avi, Maggie, Katherine, Andy, Sarah J., Emily, Sarah W. and Dorothy (the photographer and guest blogger).
My personal favorite was the white clam pie - just crust, olive oil, oregano, grated cheese, chopped garlic, and fresh clams. Turns out that the clams are shucked on the premises and they are as fresh as it gets. The crust was amazing! Crispy with blackened bits from the intense heat of the coal-fired oven, yet chewy and neither too thick nor too thin.
With very full bellies, our Camp Counselor declared it was time to carry out the pet therapy portion of our mission. Nicole guided us across
town to the Yale campus, where we thought we would easily find a park to walk off some of our pizza coma and toss the Frisbee for Roxie. In the end, we didn’t locate the elusive park before the raindrops began to dominate the scene, but we did manage to provide Roxie with a romp and the opportunity to pee on the Yale campus!
Running a close second in my book was the plain cheese pizza, which is ordinarily my pizza of choice. Other hungry diners in our cozy booth groaned in ecstasy as they devoured blisteringly hot slices weighed down with so many toppings that keeping them all on the crust prior to getting a bite into one’s mouth was a serious challenge. But sometimes you just have to let a little cheese slide and step right back into the ring!
In the end, our waitress knew her stuff and we walked out of Pepe’s with three boxes of leftover slices and a few cheesy crusts for Roxie, who was waiting patiently for us in the car. Perfect, actually, since everyone was able to go home with supper or a late night snack already prepared!
With very full bellies, our Camp Counselor declared it was time to carry out the pet therapy portion of our mission. Nicole guided us across
town to the Yale campus, where we thought we would easily find a park to walk off some of our pizza coma and toss the Frisbee for Roxie. In the end, we didn’t locate the elusive park before the raindrops began to dominate the scene, but we did manage to provide Roxie with a romp and the opportunity to pee on the Yale campus!Mission accomplished!
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