Frank Pepe's Pizza, Wooster Street, New Haven, CT.

If I accomplished nothing else in 2009 (debatable...), I can honestly say that I had the best pizza of my life. It knocked Santarpio's of Boston off the top spot...not an easy task. Lombardi's in New York's Little Italy rounds out the top 3. I'm still reserving judgment on Pizzeria Regina, because I went to the Quincy Market location...which was terrific, but I'd like to go to Thacher Street to get the full experience...Turns out that New Haven is a Pizza Mecca of sorts, with Pepe's, and Sally's Apizza about a block away on Wooster Street (New Haven's answer to Little Italy).

Anyway...Frank Pepe....Holy crap.

The star attraction at Pepe's is the clam pie....preferably WITHOUT cheese. In fact, cheese is usually considered an extra ingredient in these parts. I'm a bit of a minimalist pizza-wise, but forgoing cheese (honestly one of the only reasons I get out of bed each day)?...impossible.


I opted for the clam pie WITH mozzarella (pronounced 'mootz' if you want to sound like a local...or sound like a douchebag trying to sound like a local, in my case). Unbefrigginglievable. Fresh clams, a nice garlic flavour, just enough gooey cheese, on top of a charred, thin, oddly-shaped crust.

I've tried duplicating it at home, but no-go, mofo. The clams at Pepe's are super-fresh, and Pepe's coal oven, which has been there since the twenties, hits a temperature that could probably torch my entire neighbourhood.

Of course, upon returning from NYC a few days later, a return visit was necessary. We made it to Pepe's at 11:20, ten minutes before opening. Steve staked out a place in line (first! Making up for the Daily Show debacle a few days earlier), while I went back to the car to study the map. About five minutes later, I looked up to see a throng of cars screaming into the lot, and folks getting into line, waiting for Pepe's to open.

This time I had the tomato and mozzarella pie...nice, but the clam pie was once again the way to go.

Jimmy's Corner...44th Street, Manhattan.

After a day of navigation the construction on the I-95 corridor between Providence and NYC, we finally made it to Midtown Manhattan. The euphoria of scoring Daily Show tickets gave way to gut-wrenching defeat after discovering that tapings are WAYYYYYYYY overbooked. We were in line behind another couple hundred or so people who didn't make the cut. Only thing to do was gun down some BBQ at Virgil's, then head next door to a classic New York City dive.



Jimmy used to be a trainer for Muhammad Ali, and right behind the bar, in the above picture, there's a great picture of him with The Champ. Jimmy was there the night we were sucking back multiple Rolling Rocks....Jimmy doesn't say a whole lot...distracts him from the video poker machine.

Great bar....GREAT jukebox. Lots of Stax, Sinatra, and old soul stuff I hadn't heard in years. Friendly staff, and easygoing clientele, for the most part, including a couple from Ireland who were on their first trip to the States. Talking to a few of the locals, and they all lamented that these places are dying off quickly, as evidenced by the ESPN Zone a couple blocks west, and the overpriced franchise Drinky McGoodtimey places that you can't seem to avoid.

The A1 Diner, Gardiner, Maine.

In order to get to Gardiner, we went through Augusta...and actually passed by a few other intriguing-looking spots, including a funky-looking drive-in burger joint, reminiscent of the old A&Ws I used to go to as a kid. May be worth a return visit.

If you're looking for the quintessential New England dinah, this is the place. It's not too far from the interstate, either, which is a definite bonus if you're passing through. Not touristy in the least, although you can pick up a bit of swag...postcards, the Guy Fieri book, etc., either at the counter or the website.

I had the steak and eggs, and couldn't believe how awesome the steak was...we asked, and it's locally-grown...didn't think it could make that huge a difference. Very friendly service, and the back and forth between the youngish fella behind the counter, and the older neighbourhood lady with the thick Maine accent made the experience complete.