A little jewel in the south far away from New York is an authentic New York experience. Joeys is only open four hours a day and no weekends. It’s in a run down industrial park with no other restaurants within miles. The line wraps around the building. When I reached the counter there was Joey, his wife and two adult children feeding the masses. I hesitated for about two seconds not sure about the pepperoni or the plain and Joey shouts for all to hear, “Come on you’ve been in line for hours and you don’t know what you want?” He didn’t wait for my response, just shouted to his daughter “give em one of each”.
I sat down to wait for my slices and just watched the drama unfold. The daughter was doing everything and it looked like she had eight arms like an octopus, throwing slices in ovens, sprinkling oregano on other slices, serving up salad and pasta simultaneously. Sweat pouring down her face, mascara smeared from the corner of her eyes. she had a ghoulish look about her but she kept a forced smile pasted on permanently while calling everybody “hon”, hon just wait Hun, Its coming hun. The mother stood by the cash register and punched keys, she seemed detached, and had clearly given up control to her daughter. The son stood in the back staring into his iPhone looking like a deadbeat, do nothing.
A family of six sitting next to me received their 24 inch cheese pie. Steam rising, cheese still in a loose and watery state. I wondered if they would wait three or four minutes until it was perfect for eating or just dive in and and burn the crap out of their mouth’s. It’s amazing to watch human nature, of course they could not wait, they grabbed at slices, pulling them from the mother pie, leaving the cheese behind, and holding up empty crust, and then feverishly trying to scoop the hot heaps and ropes of mozzarella back on to the pie.
All the while Joey is behind the counter cracking jokes and putting on a bit of an act for the whole restaurant. As small sampling of his one liners: “I’m supposed to be retired and look at me sweating my ass off at 65”. “There must be a better way” “Ah Whadaya gona do”, “hey everybody we have no waitresses but we still take tips here behind the counter”
Finally my two slices came and I could taste my my old town in NJ, and yes I burned my mouth but somehow it was worth it.