Tuesday, January 31, 2017

"Big Game" Pizza Week, Day 2: Pizza Hut Pan with Salted Pretzel Crust

Hot (and Cheesy) Tip: Save Money and Pick a Designated Driver
Before we begin our review in earnest, a note about pricing.  Take-out specials are proliferating in the industry right now and, unless cost is of no concern to you, you'd be foolish not to take advantage of them.  The Papa John's new Pan Pizza reviewed yesterday arrived by way of a delivery driver because the closest Papa John's to The Food Kingdom studios was over 6 miles away and I didn't want to invest that amount of driving time nor allow the pizza that much time to cool off in transit.  But we paid a hefty price for that convenience.  The base price of that pizza, absent any special offers was $15.60, but the $3 delivery fee plus a $4 tip and tax brought the total to $23.75.  Today's pie, Pizza Hut's classic pan with the special salted pretzel crust comes to less than half that amount, totalling $10.60 when taking advantage of their $10 take-out special.  So we recommend calibrating your ordering time such that the pizza can be ready 15 minutes before kickoff and picking an intrepid driving volunteer to head out to any location within reasonable distance.  Give 'em a few free beers (after they return!) or exempt them from paying altogether and you'll still come out way ahead cost-wise.

Take-Out Driver Duty: The Excitement and the Terror
Given that our $10 pizza would have cost us at least $7 more had we opted for delivery, I was brimming with satisfaction as I set out on the 1.5 mile drive to the local Hut.  However, the glee of the discount soon faded as the logistical difficulties of arriving at the site at the precise moment that the pizza left the oven became apparent.  Unless you want to take even more than 30 minutes out of your day and lounge in the waiting area tapping your foot and annoying the staff, you'll want to time things out so you arrive just as the pizza finishes cooking, certainly not later, but not excessively early.  This would be simple but for the vagaries imposed by unpredictable traffic lights that can throw your arrival time off by as many as five minutes.  This time, the trip there went off without a hitch, but the return trip saw me hitting every red light, each one robbing precious units of heat from the vulnerable pie, protected only by an uninsulated cardboard box.  Counterpoint: unless you're a bit more relaxed than I am, you may enjoy paying a little extra to let the professionals give your pizza the best chance of arriving piping hot.
The promised land!  And then the frantic U-turns and other possible moving violations began.
Shaking Things Up: Crust and Sauce Variations
Unless we order online, we may not always be aware of how much customization is available in these chain pizzas.  In order to set up a contrast with Papa John's new pizza from yesterday, we decided to revisit Pizza Hut's classic pan pizza but also implement some changes.  Pizza Hut actually offers five different sauces: Marinara (the default), Premium Crushed Tomato, Creamy Garlic Parmesan, Barbecue, and Buffalo -- and six crust types: "No Crust Flavor" (is that the default?), Hut Favorite, Toasted Parmesan, Salted Pretzel, Toasted Cheddar, and Garlic Buttery Blend.   We figured we'd add some excitement with the "Premium Crushed Tomato", which seemed to promise some real tomato chunks or at least bits, and Salted Pretzel, which I hoped would make every bite of crust worth finishing on its own.  I also attempted to get one half of the pizza spread with the crushed tomato and the other half with marinara so we could contrast the two, but this was a bit too much for the Hut and their response to our online request was to simply give us a big plastic cup of Marinara on the side.

Come Hungry, Finish Thirsty
Four paragraphs in, and it's time to taste the pizza.  This could get a little repetitive, because every other word, overwhelming any other verdict, must be salt.  This is some salty pizza, though it may be impossible to say exactly why.  Let's start with the actual taste and then we can begin apportioning blame.  The first bit of saline overload hit me with the first bite of the cheese pizza, taken at the very tip (the importance of this will become clear).  I couldn't tell if the salt was coming from the cheese or the sauce, but it was suppressing the tang the tomatoes were trying to contribute, and annihilated the sweetness of copious mozzarella ooze.  After three bites, I was gulping down the water from my stryofoam cup, and running down the hall to the cooler to refill it.
In some ways, this $10 pie recalled Pizza Hut's glory days: a thick layer of cheese studded with big nuggets of sausage and fresh peppers and mushrooms kissed with dairy grease.  But the party was ruined by the salt crystals hanging around on the "pretzel" rim.
What a Pretzel Isn't
As you may now be guessing, all that salt probably came from the salted pretzel crust on the rim of the pizza, and cascaded down onto the rest of the pie.  It's a shame because Pizza Hut's pretzel crust hasn't always been this way.  I've had it a couple times before and on earlier occasions there seemed to be more of a serious attempt to tweak the dough so that it truly had that smooth brown pretzel texture and just a smattering of salt.  Now they've just browned the crust a bit more than usual and coated it with loads of salt. And so a noble attempt has been ruined, a venerable brand sullied.
The damning evidence: coarse salt migrating from the rim of the pizza onto the toppings, and perhaps further inward where it melted into the cheese layer.  Our tasting certainly indicated as much.
Conclusions
The salt-induced ruin aside, Pizza Hut's Pan Pizza is still solidly constructed.  The cheese is plentiful, the toppings are fresh (though Papa's sausage is much more boldly spiced) and it's got the satisfying heft that you only get from a pan pizza.  As J.N. writes "It was fairly classic Pizza Hut pan pizza, with the deliciously oily golden pan crust. [But] there was absolutely no zest or tanginess to the sauce, maybe just because there was very little sauce at all. In addition, the salty pretzel crust was inedibly salty, to me."  So yes,  avoid the salted pretzel crust at all costs and don't expect the "premium crushed tomato" sauce to taste any fresher than the standard-issue paste-based sauces that most chains offer.

Numerical Score: 5 (Opening kick return for a touchdown, followed by a safety and four turnovers in the red zone)

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Monday, January 30, 2017

"Big Game" Pizza Week, Day 1: Papa John's Pan Pizza

Are You Ready for Some F---ball?
Intellectual property rights being the utter mess that they are, businesses all over the country must each year engage in a charade whereby they promote their products as ideal accompaniments to the sporting spectacle known as "The Super Bowl" without ever admitting as much, lest they be sued for using the National Football League's tradenames for the purpose of promoting their products.  Since no entity, whether it makes any money or not, is ever really too small to sue, I shall only say that there's a "big game" coming up, so we at The Food Kingdom thought it would be nice to survey the pizza terrain and report back on which cheesy pies are most fit for consumption while viewing your local FOX channel at 6:30 PM on February 5th, as predatory birds shall attempt to fell proud men who love their country.

Does Papa John's Deep Dish Foray Pan Out?
While it must have its share of devotees, everyone I have ever talked to agree that regular Papa John's pizza is just the absolute worst.  The sauce, claims of it's fresh preparation notwithstanding, tastes like spaghetti sauce that has been run through a fine sieve so as to filter out everything rustic and interesting.  The dough is so sweet that it must have been optimized for dual use as the base for their Cinnamon Pull Aparts.  Nothing against pepperoncini as such, but they just kind of gross me out, and that lemon-yellow "garlic" sauce has as much real garlic as a mango smoothie.  But every product deserves its day, so when Papa announced his new deep-dish pan pizza, we had to give it a chance.

This deep-dish got off to a hearty and promising start, boasting a dense and stretchy layer of cheese, not mere scattered shreds, stretching all the way to the rim and over.  But, hey, is the half with toppings smaller than the cheese half?  I call B.S.!
Crusty and Edgy
Since there's no way for a 46-year old food critic to finish a large pizza and still stay upright, I am joined this week by vegetarian co-taster J.N., who shall daily consume the cheese half of each pizza while I, for reasons of consistency, order green peppers, mushrooms, and sausage on every damn pie. This may make me a vegetarian by week's end.  Both J.N. and I were impressed with the crunchy edge, crackling with deep brown toasted cheese fragments.  Surprisingly, this didn't make the entire pie particularly greasy.  It was only at the end that I noticed that I'd managed to consume my half without resorting to either any napkins nor to licking my fingers.  (This also was the case with Taco Bell's Naked Chicken Chalupa, to be reviewed fully in this space at the soonest opportunity.  Anti-greasing technology must be advancing in leaps and bounds.)

The Other Side of the Disc: Gummy Blandness?
Despite the copious cheese and the generous mounds of toppings, there wasn't a lot of flavor in the pizza's base layer.  Papa's mozzarella is still notable mostly for being white and inoffensive, its sauce is still sugary and timid, and the crust has a comforting sponginess, but certainly no notes of yeast, sourdough, or really any flavor to contribute.  J.N. also pointed out what looked initially like egregious undercooking of the dough, as you can see below.
Ew, is that a layer of undercooked, gummy crust?  That would be an instant fail.
But wait.  Further exploratory photography reveals a more complex reality that I'm still trying to decipher.  In profile, it does indeed appear that large sections of the crust have gone uncooked, but a head-on cross section shows that the dough fluffed up and cooked fully.  Perhaps the blade used to partition the pizza compressed the dough into a compact mass at the site of bi-section?
Raw-seeming in profile, but fully cooked when viewed frontally, Papa John's crust remains something of an enigma.  But a bite is pleasingly chewy if overwhelmingly plain.
A Bold Sausage Rescues the Flavor on the Toppings Side
As I mentioned, for toppings I chose green peppers (for freshness), mushrooms (for texture and umami), and spicy sausage.  Papa wasn't kidding with the spicy designation.  The peppery heat from these chunks of pork really woke up the pizza and gave it the heft that a true deep dish (are you listening, Little Caesars?) requires.
A true pan pizza should really stand up to each bite and crowd the mouth with chunks of bursting flavor, and Papa John's truly does deliver here.  But that yellow garlic sauce is nauseating.  I want to meet the person that enjoys it.  Or do I?
Conclusions
For a chain as usually forgettable as Papa John's, this was a real step forward.  Satisfying, spicy if you get the sausage, and sporting a spongy dough that is either pillow-comfy or cotton-bland, depending on how you approach the question, it will keep your stomach full and your mouth happy while you concentrate your considerable mental power on, well, the "big game."

Numerical score: 19 (two 30+ yard field goals, two passing TDs, and one missed extra point)

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