J & D Provisions

I thought I’d eaten at all twenty-​four pizzerias in the mile-​square city of Hoboken, but this little treasure seemed to elude me. Perhaps it’s because it only exists when you’re in your car driving back into town and you’re thinking more about where to park than what this pizzeria on the edge of town has to offer. I decided to end the mystery with a bike ride to eternity — a bike ride to J&D.
First of all, this place has its own parking lot so give it a point or two right off the bat. Hoboken is a really simple twelve by sixteen block grid except for the tiny stretch of road on which you find J&D, so parking is usually out of the question because all of the real estate is in use.
I transversed the lot and entered what I hoped would be a real deal pizzeria. Instead, I found myself inside a liquor store. Bright posters for Budweiser line the walls and I thought maybe there was another door to get into the pizzeria. I was wrong. The Bari deck oven sat in the space’s center like the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey. I wondered if it was actually in use or if the owner merely inherited it and just used it for storage. Low and behold, a lone cheese pizza waited in the «greasy food case» for a victim and that victim was I.
The guy behind the counter told me I would like the slice because they used a mixture of cheeses that were a «secret.» Well, my friends, some secrets should remain as such. This may be one of the worst slices I’ve ever eaten. The skin of cheese slid off the slice with the first bite and bright orange grease dripped feverishly upon my plate. Before I even reached the circumferential crust, the grease managed to congeal. And to think, that very event was occurring in my stomach to the thousandth degree! GROSS!!!
In conclusion, this is a place for truck stop purchases, not for pizza.