Okay, so there are a few things I like to come out with and admit whilst posting on Foodette. My affinity for all things unhealthy. My more than slightly morbid fascination with the French Revolution. And now, I have another closeted skeleton for your enjoyment and scathing wit.
I think I’m…pie curious.
Don’t laugh, I’m serious. I’ve found myself staring at certain pizzas whenever I go out. I’ve been eschewing pepperoni, sausage, etc, for something…a little different. Something eccentric. And although I know today’s pizza isn’t strange, (it’s a stand in for the original pizza, one that my mother’s manwhore wanted for his own lunch) it sort of leads me to question the world around me. Am I pie curious? Was I born this way, or was it an environment of New Haven pizza, strange toppings, and thin crusts that led me to this important life decision?
Today, I went out and got a Celeste Meatball Pizza for One, trying to curb myself of a lifetime of disappointments, like prosciutto and fennel, and desperately making one last attempt to get back to a normal life with normal, vanilla pizza toppings. Like meatball. A safe route.
The Celeste Pizzas are pretty sad. I mean, there’s no way to perk up the phrase “pizza for one” unless you include a shot of gin. Celeste doesn’t bullshit you like California Pizza Kitchen and go as far as to recommend a wine to serve with your frozen pizza, but the website is upsettingly sparse and evocative of 90’s Geocities pages.After microwaving this pizza, I cut it into slices and ate it with a Foxon Park Iron Brew. The heating is abysmal with these. Biting into the slice, I got a very lukewarm, mushy bite, but when I got to the crust, pleased with the temperature, it was at a rather volcanic temperature and burnt the roof of my mouth. Though the toppings are ample on this, the textures are just terrible. The sauce is delicious, not like the sugary sauce on most pizzas, and has more of a red pepper flavor than tomato. However, with the amount that they blob onto this, it bogs down the crust and makes it soggy and unable to stand up to the sauce and cheese. The cheese is salty and that’s about it.As far as the meatballs go, Celeste provokes me with some shit about how this is just like my grandmother’s meatballs. Fuck you, Celeste, you don’t know me! My grandmother would beat me with a belt if she knew I’d compared these meatballs to hers. Bullshit. Tasting the meatballs is hit or miss as they’re spread all over the pizza, so in one bite you could get none or six. The flavor is hearty and laced with oregano, and goes well with the rest of the sauce, with a little breading crunch and a soft texture, but there are like, no meatballs. Searching for them on the crust is like looking for WMD’s or talent in a Robin Williams film.
So this ends my foray with regular pizza toppings. From now on, I’m staying with wild. I’m trusting my gastronomical instincts and seeking out the exciting, the different, and the slightly strange in both life and eating. You can have your grandmother’s mass-produced meatballs, but as for Keepitcoming and I, you can find us in the truffle oil, burrata, duck egg, and andouille section of the menu. We’re pie curious and proud.