After exploring the interesting city of New Haven, I found myself eager to see if the pizza could live up to the hype that an Australian realtor and several employees of Starbucks ascribed it. A ten minute discussion with them eventually led me through the doors of Pepe's, an extremely Italian pizza place stationed a few miles away from Yale University.
The place was mostly filled, except for a booth or two, which put a silent tear in my mind's eye. The walls were lined with tasteful nudes of pizza and what looked to be the restaurant's history. The waitress was an older woman with a snow-white smile. We talked a bit about the area, beer, and other more trivial things. After choosing a Genesee to drink, me and my saucy cohorts decided on a medium original tomato and mozzarella 16'' pie, which was a reasonable 14 bucks, or clams, or what have you.
Two things that stuck out right away (besides my ever loving stare towards my vice) was the size and the way the pizza was cut. It was as if Picasso was the personal slicer of the pie, which I thought was rather beautiful. One slice in particular reminded me of the state of Nevada. After sacrificing the initial slice to the old gods of cheese and sauce did I finally engage chomp mode.
When my incisors and bicuspids first met the state-like slice, my little teeth did a salsa of sorts. The sacrifice to the gods must have worked because this was one of the best cheese and sauce orgies I've ever enjoyed. The tomato sauce was danced upon by grated cheese and hearty mozzarella in a similar fashion as many of my friends at my old college dive bar. As the pie slowly shrank, I focused on the other ingredients.
After slice three, the dough catcalled me. It was slightly more burnt that I would've liked when it came to the crust--and I'm known for cooking all of my food several minutes past what is right for the thrill of the crunch. As for the non-crust dough, there was a satisfyingly crisp bite which teased and pleased my mind and body; it was not too sticky or flakey.
After my seventh and final slice did it really dawn on me how little self control I have when confronted with a whole pie (if anyone has a source in Pizzaholic's Anonymous, please pass that on). At this point the grease started to get to me, but for those who like that, it could be right up your alley. Nonetheless, the garlic, oregano, and, olive oil made up for the grease. After the last slice went down my gullet, did I sit in awe of my destructive ways for a few minutes before calculating the score for this very quaint Neapolitan pizza place.
I award Pepe's Pizzeria a score of 8.8 for what looks to be a well crafted and thought out pizza paradise. If you are ever in the area, this place would be worth a stop. I want to thank Steph G, Jess S, Katie S, and the staff of Starbucks for pointing me in the right direction. Also, thanks to my three editors, Laura Hackett, Christy Agrawal, and Larissa Town for helping me learn the English language.
Breakdown
2.2 points for the crust.
2.8 points for the sauce.
2.8 points for the cheese.
1 point for overall atmosphere, affordability, and presentation.
www.pepespizzeria.com
