Last Sunday was one of those days you write off upon waking up. I went to bed at 3 the previous night and woke up at noon only because of the time change. The day, foreshortened as it was, consisted of eating and watching football (Packers, then Pats, then Eagles).
At some point after sunset, me and my fellow sloths saw an ad for Domino's Crispy Melt Pizza. If you can recall the moment in Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle when the titular buddies see the ad for White Castle that sets them off on their madcap journey through the Garden State, it was like that.
Crispy!
Melty!
Cheesy on the top and in the middle!
Look at it! As the pizza server lifts out a slice, the cheese sticks to the adjoining slice for four or five whole inches!
They deliver!
Within minutes, someone was on the phone ordering two. A pizza innovation like this comes perhaps once in a lifetime. Momentarily, my severe pizza snobbery abated in a fit of groupthink and hunger.
Forty-five minutes later (and no, it wasn't free) the pizza arrived. The cheese on the top was burnt to a crisp. How could you expect it to behave otherwise without tomato sauce to keep it moist? The inside had hardly any cheese. Eating a slice was a battle, because the crust/sauce/cheese/crust/cheese combo wouldn't hold together and slithered around on one another like a kid on a slip-'n-slide.
The verdict from the assembled crowd: a quesadilla would be far superior, as would nearly any other kind of pizza. American pizza as we know it has been perfected over a century to have the correct amounts of moisture, crunch and structural stability. Mess with it at your peril.
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