For years, pizza scientists at delivery powerhouse Pizza Hut have been chumming international waters with the most bizarre combinations of dough, sauce, cheese and stuff. They've made pizza with hot dogs in the crust. Fish sticks and prawns. Cheeseburgers. Some of these magnificent creations have made it as far as Canada, but to this day they've never come close to the most important location of them all — Holcomb Bridge Road, down the street from my house.
After years of agonizing desire and relative health, Pizza Hut finally takes a step in the right direction with the Crazy Cheesy Crust Pizza.
In other countries the more extravagant creations are labeled as "Crown Crust" creations. In America, where even the skinny people are considered fat by everyone else in the world, Pizza Hut has to be more careful with its naming conventions, thus this pizza is not royal — it's crazy. Or perhaps it's royal and crazy. It's the Aerys II Targaryen of the pizza world, the plain old Jaime Lannister variety waiting in the wings to stab him in the back. Poor, poor Jaime.
What's crazy about the Crazy Cheesy Crust Pizza? Pizza technicians at Pizza Hut locations are pinching skate ramps in along the edge and filling them with a special five-cheese blend. an incredibly oily five-cheese blend, perfect for congealing around the edges of the crust, giving it that "oh god why am I eating this?" mystique.
Just look at that glistening bastard. It probably didn't help that I ordered it with bacon, basically making it grease with some grease and extra grease.
With the core of the pizza, the bits which we commonly associate with the food genre, surrounded by sixteen stalwart soldiers of bread and cheese, it's no wonder the nervous center oiled itself — it's terrified of things to come, as well it should be.
Surrounded by unfamiliar peaks and crevices, the middle of the pizza becomes a literal means to an end for the eater of the Crazy Cheesy Crust Pizza, or CCCP. What toppings would you like? Who cares? You're only eating it to get to that pocket of five-cheese blend so you can talk to your friends about it later.
Even with my beloved bacon, the middle of the pizza isn't very memorable. It must have tasted fine, because my notes would have indicated such, instead of simply saying "get on with it, already."
It's a clear case of the ends justifying the middle. I was expecting to be overwhelmed by cheese, challenged by toughened dough or inconvenienced by a heart attack. I was not expecting the strange, sweet flavor that rises once the normal pizza is gone.
It's not the pizza sauce; there's no sauce under the cheese blend portions, and I pulled the toppings off the middle and gave it a good lick to make sure it wasn't the source. There is something sweet brushed on those magnificent pizza crust peaks — a subtle honey-like flavor that turns what should be a "why am I doing this?" into a "I think I'll do that again."
The Crazy Cheesy Crust Pizza isn't a bad start, and that's what's most important about this limited release — it's only a start. It's sowing the seeds of the more decadent international pies, getting U.S. pizza hut employees comfortable with the idea of advanced crust manipulation.
Before you know it, we'll be eating pizzas stuffed with hot dogs, corn dogs, actual dogs and other pizzas. Before you know it, ordering pizza from Pizza Hut will involve driving out to a retail location, being wrapped in dough, topped with goodies and coated with liquid fire. Burn them all! BURN THEM ALL! BU*
*stares incredulously at the Lannister blade through his chest*
Burn.. them... a.... *thud*
Snacktaku is Kotaku's take on the wild and wonderful world of eating things, but not eating meals. Eating meals is for those with too much time on their hands. Past critiques can be found at theSnacktaku review archive.
Pizza Hut's Crazy Cheesy Crust Pizza: The Snacktaku Review