Day 2

It's Day 2 of the experiment, and it's time to try that old American favourite: Domino's.

I've only been vaguely aware of its presence in my neighbourhood since they arrive a few years back (I think). So this was a good time to see what the fuss was all about.

I did a quick check online, and sure enough, you can order on their website. No more dealing with disillusioned teens answering the phone while wearing their food preparation gloves! And better yet, there were discount coupon codes available. So no argument about whether or not this location was "participating" in said coupon, or even if my printed coupon was potentially faked. Just punch it in, and if it takes it, I'm golden.

Right away there was a problem.

The website appears clean, and user-friendly. Large-type navigation offers 4 choices: Order, Menu, Coupons, and Locations. So I want to see what they have to eat, and click MENU (duh). Several categories appear, with lovely thumbnails of dishes in each category. I'm strangely drawn to "Feasts", and click on the "ExtravaganZZa" pizza, presumably to learn what's on it and how much it costs.

But no! First they want to "connect you to your local store to order". The first question is wether this order is for delivery or carryout. I'll be grabbing it on my way, so I click the cute icon of the Men's Washroom guy carrying a stinking log:

Next question: "We just need to know where you are so we can deliver to you."

Wait, what? There are fully six options for type of residence (including wigwam), and I'm pretty sure none of them apply to me here. But fine, whatever. I enter my home address, and envision a car chase around town to get my damn pizza.

Something is loading. Finally! It's... another menu screen. I guess I have to choose again. But it's different! No sign of the pizza I chose from the tasty-looking thumbnail earlier. Even the categories aren't the same. I start with "Build Your Own Pizza". It's wrong. Clicking Back brings up a scary dialog box: "Warning! You are about to navigate away from the order screen, and your beautiful pizza will not be saved." Really? You mean the default bare crust? Shame...

Next is "Pick a Specialty Pizza". Bingo! There it is. I click on the ExtravaganZZa, and it takes me to... Build Your Own Pizza. WTF? Apparently there are enough customization options to rival Borderlands' "Gajillion different weapons". I choose power door locks and racing stripes, and it's off to the races.

After a brief stop to pick up toilet unclogger, I find myself in a near-deserted shopping centre parking lot, wondering if I somehow missed their hours of operation. But a dimly lit sign confirms their reluctant willingness to serve customers. I enter.

Two dudes look up from their DS/cellphone/iPods tentatively. "Coxxorz?"

"Yes," I said. "How did you know?"

"We don't have many orders."

Not a good sign. Dude punches my order into the register, and says "$21.99". Short pause. "Hang on." Some more determined punching ensues, and he proclaims "$16.99".

"How did you do that?", I ask with a genuinely puzzled expression, trying to suppress any glimmer of evil. You never know when this kind of knowledge can come in handy in the future.

"I can't in good conscience charge you twenty-two bucks for a medium pizza. I rang you in as a walk-in special."

Wow, a pizza dude with a conscience. I chat with him for a bit to learn more about this rare specimen, and the wisdom of penalizing customers that are trying to streamline their workflow. Good material for my next book.

THE PIZZA

Close, but not quite.

The problem with Domino's Pizza is that it falls squarely in the "cheese underneath" category. While I understand the marketing appeal of placing all those pretty bits where all can see, it makes for messy eating. Especially because the toppings bear no resemblance to the big, hearty chunks you see on TV or their website. These are more like "topping kibbles", which were apparently designed this way to facilitate rolling.

As far as taste goes, everything is in order here. There seems to be some spices either on top or in the ground beef, presumably designed to give their pizza a unique flavour, and stand out in the crowded Cheese Underneath sector. It doesn't work. The crust is chewy and moist, without being spongy, and holds the sauce well. The outer crust is narrow and cooked perfectly, making it easy to devour along with the more elaborately festooned center.

THE NEXT DAY

I was actually surprised by how will this pizza reheated, and achieved near-fresh results the next day with ease. This may be in part due to the fact that the cheese is hidden underneath the toppings, avoiding the dangers of both overcooking and runoff. And as far as I can tell, the fat from the beef nodules kept the green peppers from withering. Mothers everywhere take note: if you want your kids to eat day-old salad, simply spread browned hamburger over it.

Conclusion

Domino's (Dominoe's?) Pizza is serviceable, but does not live up to the hype. And what exactly is that mascot, anyway? Fixed-gaze ice cream cone heads do not make me hungry for pizza.

That and in all the confusion, I forgot to enter a coupon code.

Tonight: Crap! I forgot about tonight.
°rz