REVIEW: Domino’s Wisconsin 6 Cheese Pizza

Domino's Wisconsin 6 Cheese Pizza

Full disclosure: I’ve never actually been to Wisconsin. But my parents are from Michigan and I have watched several episodes of That ’70s Show, so I assume I qualify as a part-time resident. However, I’m also from New Jersey, which means my standards for pizza are unreasonably high. This presents a dilemma because I want to give Domino€™s credit for experimenting just a little bit. Six cheese pizza isn€™t exactly cherpumple-level creativity, but it€™s at least a step outside their usual wheelhouse, so good for them. Doesn’t make up for unleashing the Noid upon humanity, but hell, it’s a start.

That said, I live on the PA/Jersey border. When there are four great pizza places within five miles of your house and another thirteen decent ones, it€™s hard to get jazzed about Domino€™s no matter how many improvements they make. I imagine it€™s akin to visiting Louisiana, stepping off the plane, and immediately asking where the nearest KFC is. It just isn’t done. But pizza snobbery has no place here, and I’ll admit I was curious about whether they’d successfully crafted a pizza with six distinct flavors, or if it’d be just one big gooey orgy of cheese, wantonly bumping and grinding on my palate. Don’t… picture that too vividly.

If nothing else, I think we can all agree that Domino’s nailed the exact right number of cheeses to slather on this thing. Seven would be ostentatious, and five? Five? Get fucking serious. No, it had to be six, and so it is. Now indulge me as I live out my secret dream of being a sportscaster and let’s break down this formidable Wisconsin lineup:

Mozzarella – The veteran. Classic, not flashy, just shows up every time and leaves it all out there.
Provolone – Highly heralded acquisition, known for solid play on a variety of other dishes.
Feta – Surprising pick. Not an anticipated “get,” but might be exactly what’s needed to plug holes in the flavor profile.
Cheddar €“ Coming off long stints with rivals like burgers and tacos, but has partnered effectively with mozzarella in the past. Look for a devastating one-two combo.
Parmesan – Perennial free agent. Rarely an integral member of the team, but proven ability to work well with others.
Asiago – The new hotness. Bold, crass, outspoken; could be trouble, but dammit, just so talented.

Upon getting the pie home, I immediately dug in because pizza waits for no man, woman or child; if you leave it alone long enough, it will actually eat itself. It was warm, a good start because it’s winter in the northeast and we’re keeping the heat low as a cost-saving measure. My pregnant wife, of course, is a virtual blast furnace and thinks the temperature is just fine; but meanwhile I’m chipping icicles off the thermostat and our daughter’s first complete sentence is “Mama, I can’t feel my legs.” So hot pizza was a welcome commodity. But that€™s not what you’re here for — you want to know how it tastes.

Domino's Wisconsin 6 Cheese Pizza SliceWell, it tastes like regular cheese pizza.

I mean, decent cheese pizza — give Domino’s credit, their new blend IS an improvement on what they used to offer. I’m not a foodie, but there was definitely a bit of tang attributable to the asiago. (Ironically, most of it seemed to come from the crust, which was crisp and quite tasty.) By concentrating I was even able to detect a very slight aftertaste that was almost certainly either provolone or my imagination. But, you know, that’s it. No feta chunks or discernible feta at all, really. Domino€™s press release claims “We€™re talking 40 percent more cheese than a regular Domino€™s pizza,” but I€™m talking you’d never know it. If you eat pizza the way I usually do, scarfing it down while watching TV or playing on the Internet, you are essentially eating a one cheese pizza. It’s like if the five Voltron lions flew up in the air and combined to form one and a half lions. Still cool, but the whole is less than the sum of the parts.

In the interest of giving a full and fair hearing, I even reheated some in the microwave to see if that changed the taste in any way. No, don’t thank me; that’s just the kind of journalistic excellence we strive for here at TIB. As expected, it didn€™t have much of an impact. There may have been a bit more bite to the asiago, but there€™s a 90 percent likelihood my mind was playing tricks on me. Or maybe it€™s just that I was eating it for breakfast. Either way, my initial impression remained the same: not bad, but just regular cheese pizza… no more, no less.

I think I walked away disappointed from Domino’s latest offering because I had built it up in my mind as something that was going to kick my tongue’s ass and convert me into a Wisconsin Badgers fan. It didn’t, but if what you’re looking for is a very slight variation on a familiar theme, it might be right up your alley. Otherwise, take the extra money you would have spent and get yourself a real topping instead.

(Nutrition Facts )one slice from 12″ pizza) 250 calories, 100 calories from fat, 12 grams of total fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 500 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, 11 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 6% vitamin C, 20% calcium and 10% iron.)

Item: Domino’s Wisconsin 6 Cheese Pizza
Price: $13.99
Size: 12″/8 slices
Purchased at: Domino’s
Rating: 6 out of 10 (apropos, no?)
Pros: Supporting my almost quasi-part-time state. Thinking outside the box. Improved recipe. Crisp, cheesy crust. Fights the winter chill. Avoids the Noid.
Cons: Shaming my actual home state. “Outside the box” remarkably similar to “inside the box.” Neutered Voltron. Missionary-style cheese orgy. Not as fun to say as “cherpumple.” Costs more than getting 3(!) toppings on the same-size pie.

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Sausage Pancake Bites

Dunkin' Donuts Sausage Pancake Bites

In theory, Dunkin’ Donuts Sausage Pancake Bites should be a guaranteed win.  What’s there to say?  It’s sausage links wrapped in pancakes with maple syrup added.  If our ancestors had invented these, we would today know very little about the extinct animal once called the “pig.” 

But Dunkin’ Donuts has let me down before.  Not with their pumpkin donuts, of course, those marvelous confections that let you know fall is here and it’s time to bust out the expandable pants.  But let’s be honest, those french toast twists were nothing to write home about.  So approaching this new treat, I was hopeful but cautious, like a shark stalking a seal that might actually be a fat surfer.  Turns out I needn’t have worried.

As you can see from this photograph expertly snapped in a parking lot next to the highway, the bites come wrapped in a paper sleeve of the sort you might use for a medium order of fries.  This is unfortunate because it highlights just how small each individual bite is.  The three you get don’t come close to filling up the bag, each being thicker than a cocktail weenie but not nearly as long as a “regular” sausage link.  A lesser man than I would make a joke about sausage size here, but really, that’s not what we’re here for.  Let’s just say they’re perfectly adequate, and besides no one notices that as long as they fill you up.  I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.  All kidding aside, I’m not a massive eater and one serving fell somewhere between a snack and a full meal for me, so take that into account and be prepared to order two if you’re really hungry.  Or decide you’re okay with feeling partially unsatisfied in exchange for a cheap(er) date.  $1.59 buys you 300 calories and no cuddling afterwards.

I had expected a strong smell of sausage from the little bastards, but surprisingly this wasn’t the case; the cornmeal forms an impenetrable force field locking in the scent of cooked meat.  It basically just smells like a corn muffin with a slight whiff of maple syrup — disappointing for the more carnivorous among us, but ideal for not drawing attention in a crowded elevator or for tricking a vegetarian into eating one.  That only holds true until you bite in, of course, at which point the meaty aroma is unlocked like a new character in Street Fighter.  By then you won’t care, though, because you’ll have a bite (a bite of a bite?) in your mouth.

And the verdict is… yeah, they’re pretty good.  The maple syrup taste is understated and so is the pancake, maybe to avoid overpowering the sausage, which to be fair IS cooked well and tastes delicious.  That said, I could’ve done with a little less stinginess on the syrup, maybe even — dare I say it? — a dipping cup.  It has the overall effect of making them seem more like corn muffin sausage bites than pancake sausage bites, which probably isn’t as marketable, so I guess they knew what they were doing with the name.  Really, though, the sausage taste dominates; everything else is just a slight hint on your taste buds, and like that – POOF.  Like Keyser Söze.

So they’re not quite the slam dunk they might initially appear to be, but I can still recommend the sausage pancake bites, and I’m not just saying that because the counter girl at my local DD once said I had really pretty eyes.  (I do, they offset my widow’s peak.)  As expected, the pancake side of things had to be downplayed because that would be just too much awesome for one dish, but they’re still tasty.  And while I’d stop short of calling three little mini-corndogs for a buck and a half a bargain, they won’t exactly break the bank either.  Except in your eventual gym membership fees if you routinely get two servings.

(Nutrition Facts – 3 pieces – 300 calories, 180 calories from fat, 20 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 550 milligrams of sodium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugar and 7 grams of protein.)

Other Dunkin’ Donuts Pancake Bites reviews:
Grub Grade

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Sausage Pancake Bites
Price: $1.59 per serving; two for $3.00
Size: 3 bites per serving
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Relatively inexpensive.  Tricking vegetarians.  Easy to eat while driving.  Tasty seal.
Cons: Syrup deficiency.  Olfactory deception.  No matter what your girlfriend told you, size matters.

ANNOUNCEMENT: New Impulsive Buy Writer Drew

Greetings, fans of food and, possibly, casual swearing!   I’m Drew, your latest guide on this magical tour of things that are bad for you.   A little background: I’m from New Jersey and will fiercely defend it to anyone, because the smell isn’t THAT bad and those Jersey Shore kids aren’t even from Jersey. (Okay, one of them is, but not the goblin.)   I currently live in eastern Pennsylvania and will concede it offers some advantages, such as lower taxes, a major league baseball team, and… no, I guess that’s it.   I grew up on a steady diet of sugary breakfast cereals and may be the only person living who still mourns the loss of E.T. Cereal.   I’m also old enough to remember when Roy Rogers was a dominant fast food chain in the east and you couldn’t find a Wendy’s to save your life.
 
In college I double majored in English and Swim Team, which turbocharged my metabolism and allowed me to eat any and all junk food that didn’t run away from me.   Little did I know this would provide excellent practice for a future with The Impulsive Buy.   Prior to joining TIB, my main blogging experience has been with cult movie website Mutant Reviewers From Hell; so if I ever get confused and start bitching about the weak direction and shoddy acting in those Four Cheese Hot Pockets, you’ll know why.   In my spare time I enjoy reading and not having any spare time because I have an adorable 2-year-old daughter and another on the way.   They will someday read this and wonder why daddy uses all those words they’re not allowed to say.
 
That’s about it, except to say I’m excited to be writing for The Impulsive Buy, and I hereby vow not to wuss out in my reviewing duties.   The way I see it, if there isn’t a decent chance I’m going to regret having eaten it afterward, it probably isn’t worth reviewing.   Join me, won’t you?