BY ADAM HEATER
The opening of a new pizza place, Twisted Pizzeria, within walking distance of campus excited me more than is probably healthy—mentally or physically.
The young man who served me was more than genuine, holding conversation in a comfortable but passive way.
The menu surprised me with an array of options spanning outside of just pizza: sandwiches, house-smoked ribs, and bacon cheese fries.
While pondering over the spread, I kept coming back to two pizzas: the Bacon Mac and Cheese pizza and, living the life of the pudgy, Iowa, corn-fed boy that I’m proud to be, the Meat Mania pizza.
Being all too familiar with skimpy restaurant portions, I almost lost my breath when I saw the absolute heap of mac and cheese on top of a pizza crust being brought towards me. I had to remind myself that I was looking at a personal pizza, and not at a family size helping of mac and cheese with a golden brown halo surrounding it.
The only thing that comes to mind as I reminisce about the first hearty bite that I took was the cheese. Just cheese. There really wasn’t much more to it. My mouth, my thoughts, and eventually my arteries had nothing but complete focus on cheese.
After only one piece I was bogged down, a feat that no single slice of pizza had ever done to me before.
Then, as if a beam of light split the clouds and procured a blessing specifically for me, I got my first taste of Twisted Pizzeria’s crust. It was garlic brushed with parmesan dust and, if I had to guess, God’s own mighty touch.
But regardless of my praise, not all is perfect in Mac and Cheese land.
Sadly, there was a scarce amount of bacon included on the pizza. The bacon seemed misplaced, almost like an afterthought, and a very tentative one at that.
Especially after seeing and smelling the big wood smoker behind the building, I was disappointed by the lack of meat.
Almost on cue, the Meat Mania was placed in front of me. I don’t know if it’s fair of me as a consumer to expect an entire helping of cheese on top of my gluttonous six helpings of meat.
But I felt a tad cheated considering they obviously have no aversion to cheese. The pizza held a similar niche to the one prior: an absolutely beautiful mess.
It seems to me that Twisted Pizzeria is a restaurant directly out of our childhood whimsies, reminiscent of 12-year-olds at two a.m., throwing everything but the kitchen sink onto a pizza crust.
Forget Ben & Jerry’s after your best friend gets dumped by that “super cute” guy she met in the sandwich line and eat your feelings away with Twisted Pizzeria.