Tag Archives: pizza

Pie in the face

Pizza lovers — there’s a new combo in town!

Actually, it’s available in British Columbia at Steveston Pizza Company. They named it the C6, but I’m going to be bold and suggest a new one:

STUPID PIZZA
See if you agree.  The pie features lobster, black Alaskan cod and a side of Russian Osetra caviar — yours for only $450.

You read it right.

Now, if you want one, you have to call a day ahead.  No 30 minute delivery guarantee on the Stupid Pizza — no sirree.  That would probably cost you extra!

Owner Nader Hatami told Canada.com the pricey pie was intended to make a “culinary statement.”  But in fact, to date, they’ve only sold one.

Looks like customers have made their own right statement back, as in:

“We’re not nearly that stupid.”

Save our slice

Say it isn’t Sbarro.

The Wall Street Journal reported Thursday that the pizza chain may file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy as early as next week.  They are seeking something called ‘debtor-in-possession’ financing from a group of hedge funds to keep the stores open and operating while in bankruptcy.

I for one hope they find the sauce they need.

It’s not that Sbarro is my favorite restaurant.  The pizza biz in New York City is crowded and highly competitive; you can find a better pie at several places in my neighborhood alone.

But Sbarro is the slice I associate with Times Square.

Long before I lived in Manhattan, my trips into the city were for one thing and one thing only:  theatre.  We would jam two or more plays into a day, if the show times allowed.

And when you’re running from venue to venue, grabbing a slice at Sbarro was quick and cheap and satisfying.  I’m sure it still is for the legion of tourists who overwhelm the theatre district every single day (except maybe Mondays).

Call me nostalgic, but I can’t imagine Broadway without Sbarro.  Let’s find the bucks, people, and help them keep their slice of the Great White Way.

Big brother

I had a long day on Thursday.  Got home late. Was walking Rory and thought “I’ve earned pizza.”  Then I said “pizza” aloud, which made Rory very excited and pretty much sealed the deal.  I was going to order pizza.

Now, I usually do this online, but I couldn’t remember my password and was too hungry to wait until I got home. So I dialed 411 to get the store’s number. Before I could even tell the operator which location I needed, she figured it out….somehow.

Weird.  All I told her was ‘Manhattan’ and ‘Dominos.’  There must be 50 of them. (Don’t give me a hard time for going chain — I love their thin crust.)

Anyway, the pizza guy answers, and I tell him I have a delivery order.  He replies, “Sure. Same thing as last time — thin crust pepperoni and cinnamon bread?”

Okay. I’ve never called this store before.  Sure, they probably fulfill my online orders, and my cellphone number is in that profile, but still.  All this convenience, all this instant knowledge of who you are and what you want — it’s creepy.

It did get my pizza to me in less than 15 minutes.

But what else do they know…ya know?