history « Kenny Smith | A remarkable thing happens …

history

The best tomato pie of your life

We visited Pepe’s. And, no, this is not becoming a food blog. But Pepe’s is Pepe’s. Here’s the old man on the cover of the menu:

But what can you tell about a man from line art? Oh, his pixels are lovely. Mr. Pepe’s actual photograph.

And, no, food photography is difficult, not my strong suit and never works on a cell phone, but this pizza can’t be ignored:

Pepe started his first store 86 years ago and, some argue, it is the origin of pizza in the U.S. Who knows? Truly it is the best pizza you’ve ever had. This is not opinion or left to taste, but rather a fact. It is science and we must accept it.

The place is owned by Pepe’s grandson today. We go there every time we visit the in-laws. Ronald Reagan loved it, too. That was back when Connecticut was a GOP stronghold. The Republicans had won Connecticut in eight of 11 presidential post-war elections, only John Kennedy, Lyndon Johnson and Barry Goldwater could break their grip. That led up to Bill Clinton, who also enjoyed Pepe’s.

Connecticut has gone Democrat in the last five elections since 1992. Clearly the pizza is the key.

More of their historic photographs are here.

In New Haven, where Pepe’s started, pizza is one of those cultural touchstones that says much about the diner. You’re a Pepe’s fan or a Sally’s person. The competing pizza place was actually founded by Pepe’s nephew in 1938. Sally’s Apizza is no good. As I wrote in 2007, the long wait outside in the cold and the long wait inside aren’t worth considering:

The waiter, who’s doing you a favor by being there, just got off his bike apparently and is still wearing his Harley vest. He finally gets your order, promptly brings the drinks and disappears for 20 minutes. He returns to ask about your order, which he’s incorrectly scribbled. How one pizza becomes three I’ve yet to figure out. Half-an-hour later, when you finally make eye contact with the waiter (who’s doing you a favor) you inquire as to the whereabouts of the pizza.

“We’re on a 90 minute wait,” he sneers while stalking off. Truly, the last half of the sentence is spoken with his back turned. We speculate the wait just grew to 100 minutes. At 75 minutes you consider calling Information to get the number to the nearest Domino’s and order a delivery. At 90 minutes you actually make eye contact with the waiter again (who’s doing you a favor) and get a simple refill.

Throughout this time as people peer into the windows to gauge how busy the little place is you wave them off. “Don’t do it! It isn’t worth it!”

At 100 minutes, as speculated, the pizza arrives.

And it isn’t worth it. The pizza is OK. It is not 100 minute pizza. If such a thing exists you will not find it here. Instead you’ll get a burnt crust and charcoal on your fingers.

Eight minutes later the pizza is gone, because everyone at your table was famished. Ninety-three seconds after that your bill arrives. Sixteen seconds after that you throw the money on the table. The exact change. To the penny. In pennies. Under the pizza tray.

So that’s Sally’s. Pepe’s, meanwhile, made the Guardian‘s best food in the world list.

That’s one down on that list. Forty-nine to go. Lists like that are dangerous for completists. When are you ever going to be in Lisbon, to eat supposedly the world’s best custard tart?

I received a copy of 1,000 Places To See Before You Die a few years ago from a dear friend who decided she wanted to give me angst via the written word. How can I accomplish this? And now I see there are apparently annual editions.

Great. One of my most recent achievements has been removed for the list in favor of some Mongolian Milk trailer 100 yards off the Great Wall of China that is operated by a talented group of tap dancing, orphan entrepreneurs.

She signed the book (which I have lately decided is the best part of receiving a book as a gift):

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

I have visited 30 of the 1,000 sites listed in my copy. (Yes, I’ve counted.) Miles to go, indeed.

Robert Frost knew what he was talking about.

He died in 1963, in Boston. I wonder, did he ever have Pepe’s?

history / overwriting / photo / video / weekend — Comments Off
25
Dec 11

Peace on earth

Not to be Santa-centric, but this particular Santa’s helper is family. I hope your Christmas has been a blessing of family and friends and peace and joy very kind.

We had the chance last night, in a dimly lit church, to sing Silent Night with a fine and internationally renowned baritone. It was about as moving a musical experience as you can ask for. I hope for you that your holidays provide moving moments and lasting memories.

I hope to remember the man I met this week who thought he had cancer in his kidney. A checkup sent him to an oncologist, which meant tests and then an operation. It was not cancer, but he was bleeding internally. Still lucky — timing is everything and he could have bled to death — they removed half a kidney. It is, he said, “the best Christmas in 15 years.”

I hope to remember the Jamaican immigrant, who’d already worked two jobs on Friday when we met and will work two jobs on Christmas day. He’s been here for six years, he said. “And this is the number one country, the best country in the world.”

There are hundreds, thousands, of little stories like that which don’t involve any of the lovely presents we’ve purchased or received. I hope you remember to count them in your blessings, too.

And for no reason whatsoever, remember that Christmas when the world felt very small, and all of creation seemed so much more immense. Our reaching outward, seeking a goal, stretching for some larger discovery and achievement, meant an especially poignant look inward:

“(G)ood night, good luck, a Merry Christmas, and God bless all of you — all of you on the good Earth.”

history / movies / photo / weekend — Comments Off
18
Dec 11

Happy Birthday

Lazlo Hollyfeld, the impossibly old undergrad living between the walls in Real Genius was 28 when he won 32.4 percent of the Frito-Lay “Enter-as-often-as-you-want” sweepstakes.

By the age of 30 Alexander the Great had built one of the largest empires the ancient world had ever known, ranging from the Ionian Sea to the Himalayas.

Rocky Balboa — in Rocky III! — was a washed up ex-champ fighting to regain his title at the age of 34.

I’m now older than all of them.

history / photo / site / Thursday — Comments Off
15
Dec 11

Sick, making this a photo day 4

I feel like I’m about 65 percent of myself again. I’ve been stuck in the house for four days, so it seemed a good time to get out.

I visited the DMV. Most people have a problem with that, but I’d rather go to the satellite office of our DMV than to the local post office. I had to renew my license today and was done in less than six minutes.

Still coughing, but still breathing. The coughing is more of a real cough than the sound of all of the ancient gods engaged in a battle royale in the next room, as has been the case the past few days. I haven’t had any fevers since Tuesday. My congestion has just suddenly disappeared. It seems I’ve rounded a corner.

The biggest problem now is a lack of energy and endurance. But, then again, I do have a birthday coming up.

Speaking of birthdays, when I turned 30, almost to the minute, I came down with a little bug of some kind. “Nothing too serious, happens all the time. I’ll be rid of it in a day or three,” or so I thought at the time. Kept that thing for weeks.

This better not be like that, but I think I’m getting better.

Today’s photo is from the World War II memorial in Washington D.C. We went into the capital after the game on Saturday night. I haven’t discussed that here yet, which probably works out well. I still have content after a week of doing nothing!

Anyway, they call this the Freedom Wall. It holds 4,048 gold stars, each representing 100 servicemen and women who died or remain missing from World War II.

Hanging 405,399 stars would have been too imposing. Just the 4,048 is impressive enough.

family / history / iPhone / journalism / links / photo / site / Wednesday — Comments Off
7
Dec 11

Reload early, reload often

More grading. All day, it seems.

This is downtown Homewood, late in the evening. Had dinner on the southside with a college buddy. This was part of the drive afterward:

Normally this road isn’t so empty, but Homewood rolls up the sidewalks by 9 p.m., even during the Christmas season.

A wide version of this is now one of the rotating footers at the bottom of this page. There are now 17 of those. The bottom of the page has to catch up, though. There are 38 images in the header. Reload often!

More grading tomorrow, and the last class of the semester.

Pearl Harbor links. One of my uncles, if I am remembering this story correctly, was at Pearl Harbor soon after the attacks. This is him, a few years ago:

Here’s a story from yesterday about some young local boys who rotated through there in 1943 on their way to the Pacific front.

Every now and then I tell a story about something like this, because it astounds me that a lot of these people were my students age. Like these kids, who happened to be in Hawai’i to play football when the Japanese flew in. That’s a great read. And it is hard to imagine those could be my students.

Historic Page Ones.