In my on-going series where I talk about disgusting food and then I eat the disgusting food, last week for lunch I went out of my way to eat the Hot & Ready Detroit-style pizza that FRQ and I were talking about in the comments section. Because I am a disgusting human being with bad taste in both music and food.
As a native of
a suburb of Detroit, I am more than a little familiar with the “pizza” chain Little Caesar’s. It was the go-to standard pizza of my childhood. I attended many a birthday party at a Little Caesar’s playland which is now a carpet store. My first foray into fundraising was probably selling Little Caesar’s Pizza Kits in elementary school. Mike Ilitch‘s granddaughter or something was a couple of years behind me in high school. My senior year of college was almost entirely fueled by $5 Hot-N-Ready pizzas, which had just come out.
But let’s get real. Little Caesar’s pizza is hella gross. It’s like cardboard. The Flanny family gets it only when desperate. Or if we have a real good coupon.
They’ve evidently, though, come up with something called “Detroit-style” pizza. (But it’s also “Deep! Deep!”? I dunno.) The description in this article made my mouth water. I, too, had never heard of “Detroit-style pizza,” because I just call it “yummy.” I decided to slum it for the sake of journalism because all of you [author’s note: none of you] were clamoring for it.
The closest Little Caesar’s to my workplace is about 10 miles away in the town where I now live. So I took a drive during lunch. Not only was I excited for the pizza, but also for the fact that I would have upwards of half an hour between driving from and to work so I could eat at my apartment instead of at my desk. I’m not sure if Little Caesar’s even has dine-in locations anymore, but I think the unspoken agreement is that the less time you spend inside of a Little Caesar’s the better you feel about eating Little Caesar’s.
And let me tell you, the exterior of my local establishment does not inspire confidence. It’s in the back corner of a crumble-down strip mall, between an Ace Hardware and an empty store front, and down a couple doors from an off-brand Curves. This has nothing to do with the pizza itself, but the parking lot was very confusing. There were hardly any lines that hadn’t been worn ghostly pale, and none of the lanes ran parallel to each other or to the strip mall. An Oldsmobile was pulling out of a spot as I was driving by and then gave me a wide berth and passed me going the opposite way ON MY RIGHT? That’s not real driving! Despite being 40% occupied, the strip mall was hopping, especially considering it was noon on a Thursday. I kind of assumed that everyone would be going to get a lunch combo, but no! I’m not actually sure where they were going, since I didn’t actually see anyone enter or exit any storefront. It was like when you’d watch one particular guest while playing Roller Coaster Tycoon and they’d pay their $5 to enter the park and then literally wander around for six minutes, not go on any rides or feel any emotions, and then leave. Or when traffic would reach the end of a segment of road in The Sims and then just disappear. Where were these people going? What was their motivation? Where do I live?
But I guess the pizza combo was fairly popular, because the lady who took my order and slid my special box across the counter called out to her coworker in the back and pointed at my box, signaling for her to make more. The counter lady was real nice, though. 🙂 I also grabbed a bottle of Pepsi from the self-serve cooler.
Back in my car, I navigated my way out of the parking lot and made the two minute drive back to my apartment. And in those two minutes, I became a maniac. Ugggg, the pizza smelled so good! I couldn’t wait to get to my apartment and chow down! While waiting at a stoplight, I lifted the top of the box and squealed. I parked as close as possible to my building and then walked like a granny in a suburban mall through the parking lot, sprinted up the stairs, and opened up my lunch. I poured a glass of water (because I actually do not drink pop, for the most part), and while I was pouring I kept saying to myself, “Take a picture before you take a bite, take a picture before you take a bite.” But as you can see in the picture below, my base animal instincts kicked in and before I knew what was happening, I was eating that pizza!
Is it good or bad that as soon as I was eating the pizza, I thought, “This’ll be so good cold.” Mmm, I ate two pieces and they were perfect. The crust was good and thick and gooey-ish. (I once got a not-completely-baked-through pizza from an airport Pizza Hut and it was the best pizza I’ve ever had, so I am weird.) The pepperoni was crispy and salty and almost inediblely spicy. Grease oozed all over my fingers. All the cheese came off in a big sheet, so it was like I was eating many different dishes. A pepperoni dish as I peeled them off, a big old wad of cheese, and then the crust was like breadsticks pre-dipped in marinara. Jesus Christ, I love you, pizza.
So I give this pizza four out of five stars for yumminess. I give my local Little Caesar’s location’s parking lot zero out of five stars for appearance and layout. And I give myself five out of five points for shamefulness.
PS. Yes, it was so good cold.
PPS. Looking at the box, it looks like maybe there’s no apostrophe in the restaurant’s name, but I ain’t about to go back and edit every instance, so sorry.