As I drove the two hours from Amagansett to Ozone Park, my eyes darted back and forth from the road to my Waze app. I knew the route, but I was concerned about the ETA. It started at 9:26 pm and fluctuated by a few minutes now and then, at one point shooting up to 9:33. “You have to get here before 9:30,” the man at Don Peppe said over the phone, or else we were shit out of luck. That’s not to say there weren’t perfectly great back-up options (we were in Queens, with a car), but when a plan for red sauce is made, it’s not one you’re readily willing to abandon.
Long live Don Peppe!
Long live Don Peppe!
Long live Don Peppe!
As I drove the two hours from Amagansett to Ozone Park, my eyes darted back and forth from the road to my Waze app. I knew the route, but I was concerned about the ETA. It started at 9:26 pm and fluctuated by a few minutes now and then, at one point shooting up to 9:33. “You have to get here before 9:30,” the man at Don Peppe said over the phone, or else we were shit out of luck. That’s not to say there weren’t perfectly great back-up options (we were in Queens, with a car), but when a plan for red sauce is made, it’s not one you’re readily willing to abandon.