Tag: Pizza

REVIEW: Limited Edition California Pizza Kitchen Cheeseburger Pizza

Marvo 14 Comments

The cheeseburger pizza isn’t new to me.

It actually used to frighten me as a wee lad whenever I would see the words “cheeseburger pizza” scheduled on the elementary and intermediate school lunch calendar twice a month. For most kids my age, the word “pizza” equated to something that was a treat, but for me it was terror and confusion.

It didn’t look or taste like a pizza, nor did it look or taste like a cheeseburger. I would either pick at it like a bird, or trade it for some syrup-covered prunes. I later came to the conclusion that it was a way for the cafeteria workers to get rid of soon-to-expire ingredients, like ground beef and cheese.

Sure, when I was in seventh grade, some bonehead blasted me, shoulder first, into my chest while playing flag football, making it hard for me to breathe for five minutes; in sixth grade, I got kicked in the balls really hard while playing soccer; in fifth grade, I pooped in my pants before I made it to the restroom; in fourth grade, the prettiest girl in my grade told me I smelled really bad; in third grade, my classmate seated next to me threw up on me; in second grade, I pooped in my pants before I made it to the restroom; in first grade, I was called “nerd” for the very first time because I started wearing glasses; and in kindergarden, I cried so hard while I had my head down while being punished that my tears created a puddle on the table that ran off the edge and created a waterfall of tears, but none of these grade school memories haunt me more than those cafeteria cheeseburger pizzas.

Thankfully, California Pizza Kitchen changed my opinion of what a cheesburger pizza is when I had their much tastier version in one of their restaurants. And now I can continue to rehabilitate and rid myself of those grade school cheeseburger pizza memories at home with the frozen Limited Edition California Pizza Kitchen Cheeseburger Pizza.

The frozen pizza is made up of a crispy thin pizza crust topped with seasoned hamburger, a blend of cheeses, diced tomatoes, caramelized onions and CPK’s signature sauce. According to one of my Twitter followers, who works at CPK, it’s supposed to taste like an In-N-Out cheeseburger, but I think it tastes more like a Big Mac with a little mustard flavor.

The restaurant and frozen versions taste almost exactly alike. The only major differences are the layer of shredded lettuce that’s added on top of the restaurant’s version of the pizza and the use of a huge wood fire oven.

According to the box, there’s three servings, which is kind of irritating because I don’t like having to bust out the protractor I haven’t used since high school to figure out how big a slice should be and I’m an Asian who sucks at math. Of course, I can cut it into fourths, but doing so would force me to use more math as I try to figure out how much trans fat is in one slice.

But wait, if I cut it into sixths, then two pieces will equal a third.

Oh, I guess I am good at math. The stereotype still lives.

The Limited Edition California Pizza Kitchen Cheeseburger Pizza is one tasty frozen pizza and is my favorite CPK frozen pizza variety, so far. If you’ve ordered one in the restaurant and enjoyed it, this frozen version will help you remember it, while at home, for about half the price.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/3 pizza – 350 calories, 19 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 770 milligrams of sodium, 34 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 13 grams of protein, 6% vitamin A, 20% calcium and 6% iron.)

Item: Limited Edition California Pizza Kitchen Cheeseburger Pizza
Price: $5.99 (on sale)
Size: 14.1 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Tastes like a Big Mac. Tastes like the version available at CPK restaurants. Crispy crust. No lines about I Can Haz Cheeseburger. Asians are good at math.
Cons: Contains trans fat. Limited edition. Good source of saturated fat and sodium. Trying to cut a pizza into even thirds. Cheeseburger pizza in grade school. Pooping in my pants in the fifth and second grades.

REVIEW: DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza

Marvo 9 Comments

Chicago, I know you’re still celebrating your Blackhawks winning the Stanley Cup, but I want to bring something negative to your attention that would probably get lost if I mentioned it while your anger from the Cubs not winning a World Series for the 103rd straight year erupts.

I just want to let you know that DiGiorno has a new deep dish pepperoni pizza. Well, at least they’re calling it a “deep dish pizza” because if you saw it for yourself, you would boo it hard, just like you do every time Brett Favre steps on Soldier Field.

Chicago is the birthplace of the deep dish pizza and as someone who has had a Chicago-style deep dish pizza from Giordano’s Pizzeria (and thinks it’s frickin’ awesome), I believe the Windy City should be appalled at DiGiorno’s poor attempt to create a deep dish pizza. I also believe the Second City should use the most powerful person in the Free World that comes from the great state of Illinois to stop DiGiorno from tainting the greatness of the deep dish pizza.

No, I’m not talking about President Zombie Abraham Lincoln, I’m talking about Oprah.

For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing a deep dish pizza, it’s like a large bowl that’s made of crust that’s filled with tomato sauce, cheese, sausage and other ingredients. However, the DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza isn’t at all like that and is basically a Pizza Hut Pepperoni Personal Pan Pizza, except slightly smaller, with a less crispy crust, with a slightly better tasting sauce and would probably make the late Linda Lovelace say, “I know deep, and that’s not deep.”

While I believe the DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza isn’t a good deep dish pizza because there isn’t enough filling in it to be considered a deep dish pizza, I do think it’s a good microwaveable pizza. The cooking tray does a decent job of making the pizza’s bottom crust a little crispy. On top of that crust is a few pepperoni slices that are cut into fourths, not enough cheese and a decent amount of sauce, which I thought was quite tasty and had a slight spiciness.

Overall, the DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza is a fine microwaveable pizza, but calling itself a deep dish pizza is a stretch, just like it’s a stretch when anyone on a New Jersey-based reality show calls themself a celebrity or nicely tanned.

(Nutrition Facts – Whole Pizza – 590 calories, 33 grams of fat, 16 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 45 milligrams of cholesterol, 950 milligrams of sodium, 52 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, 24 grams of protein, 15% vitamin A, 2% vitamin C, 35% calcium and 20% iron.)

Item: DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 7.5 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: A good microwaveable pizza for one. Tasty sauce. My ability to learn about Chicago though Wikipedia. Nice source of calcium, iron, and protein. Cooking tray does a decent job of crisping the crust. Oprah. President Zombie Abraham Lincoln.
Cons: Not a true deep dish pizza. It’s basically a Pizza Hut Personal Pan Pizza. Not enough cheese. Awesome source of saturated fat and sodium. Contains trans fat. Linda Lovelace would probably not approve of its deepness. Spray on tans that make you look orange. The Chicago Cubs’ futility.

REVIEW: Kashi Caribbean Carnival Pizza

Stacey 17 Comments

You know that expression: “You can please some of the people some of the time, all of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time, but you can never please all of the people all of the time?” Well, Kashi should just stop making pizzas, because they are pleasing none of the people none of the time. Seriously, I really wanted to like this pizza. I’m normally a fan of everything Kashi – their frozen meals, crackers, granola bars, cereals, etcetera, etcetera. But in the past I have been let down by Kashi pizzas. Yet, I decided to give them one more chance to make amends when I saw the new delicious-sounding “Caribbean Carnival” Kashi pizza.

Spoiler alert: While I expected Kashi’s “Caribbean Carnival” pizza to invoke delightful imagery like friendly anthropomorphic parrots and jovial dark-skinned men wearing brightly colored beads in their hair; this pizza was neither “Caribbean” nor a carnival in my mouth. (Discuss!) Being a healthful eater, I normally resent when others disparage health food as tasting like cardboard – however, tasting like wonderful, delicious cardboard would probably be a lofty goal for this pizza.

Its promise of plantains, kale, fire-roasted red onions, mangoes and a “sweet and spicy Guava-infused jerk seasoned sauce” yielded a smattering of toppings lumped all in one corner of the pizza, which I meticulously picked apart and spread about before putting the pizza in the oven. Below all of that was some of the nastiest pizza crust known to mankind. I would like to know what think tank thought it would be a good idea to make a pizza crust out of ingredients like buckwheat and brown rice. Poor Antonio Pizzarelli, the inventor of the pizza pie*, would be spinning in his grave if he only knew. Normally the crust is one of my favorite parts of the pizza, and I couldn’t even get it down. Even the dog gave me the stinkface when I tried to pass it off, as if to say, “I’ll eat this because it’s technically contraband people food; but only begrudgingly so.”

The “toppings” provided little relief to the gritty taste bud-assault that was the crust. The pizza was covered mostly in kale and diced tomatoes, and I think I saw a few specs of yellow that was supposed to be mango. The best part of the pizza was undoubtedly the plantains — as I have expressed my enthusiasm for Kashi products featuring plantains in the past. But unfortunately the pizza only contained four slices of plantains and two bits of something that were probably the bodily remains of brave, fallen plantains who likely fought to the death against being put on this terrible pizza. And as for this alleged sweet and spicy Guava-infused jerk sauce…Well, I did detect some kind of flavor between the cheese and the crust, but I don’t think it tasted so much like jerk sauce as it did like “a funk.”

What separates Kashi’s Caribbean Carnival Pizza from your garden variety “fail” to an “epic fail,” is that it’s not even particularly healthy. One pizza, which is a reasonable-sized meal for most people, clocks in at over 800 whopping calories. You could probably eat two slices of real pizza for that and not feel let down like a kid who gets socks for Christmas.

* Look it up!

(Nutrition Facts – 1/3 pizza (120 grams) – 280 calories, 8 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 590 milligrams of sodium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, 14 grams of protein and 10% iron.)

Item: Kashi Caribbean Carnival Pizza
Price: $6.99 [sale price, reg. $7.99]
Size: 12.7 ounces
Purchased at: Shop Rite
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: The bites with plantain on them were almost not terrible. Pleasing all of the people all of the time. Friendly anthropomorphic parrots.
Cons: Pizza crust tasted like puppies crying. No mango. Not enough plantains. Eating this instead of real pizza. Horrible taste plus not great nutritional value plus outlandish price like getting raped in three orifices. Getting socks for Christmas.

REVIEW: DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza

Marvo 24 Comments

If you don’t skip past the commercials in your DVR recordings, you probably know DiGiorno’s (or if you’re Canadian, Delissio’s) slogan is, “It’s not delivery. It’s DiGiorno.”

I’ve had many DiGiorno frozen pizzas over the years and pizza from either Pizza Hut, Domino’s, Papa John’s and I’ll just throw in Little Caesars for the hell of it, and I’m pretty sure no one will confuse a DiGiorno pizza with one of those other restaurant pizzas. I’m sure with one look, most people can easily tell the difference.

Besides, why would they want to be confused with a delivery pizza because there are way too many negative connotations with being a delivery pizza.

For example, delivered pizzas have a tendency to be greasier than a Wall Street financial analyst and can provide enough oil to power a biofuel car. Do they really want stigma of being confused with delivery pizza and all the porn references that go along with it? Those references involve pizza being delivered by a strapping young lad to a house that contains either a sexy cougar, teen babysitter, sorority girls, horny housewife or, in certain European countries, sheep.

Not even the new DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza could be confused with a pizza delivered by someone with an insulated pizza case.

This flatbread pizza is made with grilled white meat chicken, spinach, oven-roasted tomatoes, garlic and a creamy red sauce. It smells nice, but the pizza is 11 inches in diameter, which is kind of small. The flatbread turned out crispy, but thankfully not like a cracker. Its flavor is bland and it tastes like diet Cheez-Its, which is surprising because I’ve enjoyed all of the DiGiorno pizzas I’ve tried in the past. Also, it seems like there isn’t much sauce on the pizza. I guess the saying “pizza is like sex, because it’s never bad” isn’t true because eating this pizza is like having drunk sex with a sheep — you thought it would be fun at the time, but later you’ll regret it.

If that’s not considered bad, I don’t know what is.

The only positive item I found with the DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza wasn’t the pizza itself, but the plastic wrapping around it, which is extremely easy to open. Just grab the tab and pull it apart. The folks who work on the plastic packaging at DiGiorno really need to focus their attention on women’s bras.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/3 pizza – 14 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 1 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 680 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 14 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 25% calcium and 6% iron.)

Item: DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza
Price: $6.49 (on sale)
Size: 14 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Plastic wrapping is super easy to open. Flatbread was crispy. Pizza porn. DVRs. Being able to skip through commercials.
Cons: Bland tasting. It’s like a diet Cheez-Its. At 11 inches, it doesn’t seem too big. European sheep pizza porn. Unhooking bras in the dark. Drunk sheep sex.

REVIEW: Pizza Hut’s The Natural

Marvo 25 Comments

They say, “Pizza is a lot like sex. When it’s good, it’s really good. When it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.”

Oh, really?

Then why do I feel so dirty after having a one night stand with the two-bit pizza from Pizza Hut called The Natural?

Why do I want to huddle in my shower fully clothed, cry like I just accidently killed a man, and let the steady stream of water try to wash away the shame that has stained my soul? If pizza is a lot like sex, then The Natural is like losing your virginity with another virgin because both of you had high hopes for it, but during it you both constantly asked each other if it feels good, and after you’re done, you’re both not really satisfied.

The Natural pizza looked delicious in the box and sounded appetizing with its, “stone-ground multigrain crust made with the goodness of five different whole grains, a rich flavorful sauce made from fresh, vine-ripened tomatoes and topped with fine, all-natural, mozzarella cheese.” But after I finished a slice I realized that this was the Diet Coke of Pizza Hut pizzas — it wasn’t close to being as tasty as the original.

The pepperoni and cheese were the only decent parts of the pizza. What brought down The Natural several notches was its stone-ground multigrain crust, which wasn’t very flavorful. But I guess the crust, with its eight grams of whole grains in each slice, was supposed to be healthy and not tasty. Although, even with all that healthiness, it doesn’t provide more fiber than Pizza Hut’s regular crust. Speaking of things that help you poop, there wasn’t a lot of grease on the pizza, which is great for napkin conservation. Something else there wasn’t a lot of was sauce, which was disappointing because I like the sauce to ooze all over and the cheese to stretch out like I was on the wrong end of a bukkake.

Overall, the crust, lack of sauce, and measly 12-inch size equated to a very bland, mediocre pizza. So thanks to Pizza Hut’s The Natural, I feel like I should edit the saying to say, “Pizza is a lot like sex. When it’s good, it’s really good. When it’s bad, you can always get something better after.”

(Nutrition Facts – 1 slice – 230 calories, 9 grams of fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 530 milligrams of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of sugar, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 10 grams of protein, 8% Vitamin A, 15% Calcium, and 6% Iron.)

Item: Pizza Hut’s The Natural
Price: $12.99 ($9.99 in most states)
Size: 12 inches
Purchased at: Pizza Hut
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Eight grams of whole grains in each slice. Pepperoni and cheese were decent. Sex. Being on the right end of a bukkake.
Cons: A very bland, mediocre pizza. Stone-ground multigrain crust wasn’t very flavorful. Not much sauce. About the same amount of calories, fat and sodium as a regular Pizza Hut pizza. Being on the wrong end of a bukkake. Accidently killing a man.