For about a year, I've been threatening to buy The Hurricane pizza from Trio's on Buccaneers game days. I have an admitted weakness to things that are self-described on their menu as "7 pounds of Good Eatz."
One deterrent: Each 16-inch pizza costs $24.95
On Saturday, when we drove by the pizza shop, I vowed that we would be purchasing one.
"Life is too short to keep putting this off,'' I announced.
Of course, I ignored the fact that life considerably shortens after eating one of those beasts, but I was not to be denied my bliss.
The restaurant I went to on Lithia-Pinecrest Road (which one friend mispronounced one time as "Labia-Pinetree") was nice and clean, and the staff was very nice.
I will say, though, that the color scheme in the dining room bore a striking resemblance to Panera Bread.
I walked in, just as the beast was emerging from the oven.
It was the sexiest non-human thing I'd ever seen.
Not that I go around judging the sexiness of non-human things, mind you.
The guy behind the counter said they dress the pizza once, run it through the oven, then dress it with more toppings and run it through again.
What's on this manhole cover?
The menu reads: "Italian sausage, onions, tomatoes, black olives, mushrooms, bell peppers, Canadian bacon, cheese, pepperoni and even more cheese (well over a pound of our great cheese)"
This kind of pizza pulchritude almost makes you feel... dirty.
This was decidedly a fork-and-knife affair, although the crust was wonderfully crispy and light. And flavorful, too.
We liked the thinly sliced green peppers. And the whole slices of fresh tomato.
When you consider what you'd pay for two pizzas - which essentially is what this is - and that you get a 2-liter of Pepsi with it, the cost can almost be explained away as a pragmatic expenditure. Especially since four of us ate on this thing and we still had slices left over.