Hi! Today is Day 295 of my journey. I think it’s an enriching, beautiful, and true journey because it doesn’t really have a destination (outside of eventually wanting to hit my Goal Weight — but Life, as John Mellencamp once said, goes on).
Anyway — I feel great! I’ve also had about 1,000mg of caffeine in the last couple hours so that could be coloring things…
I thought I’d come in ice hot with a much different kind of Thing this time around — an in-depth frozen food review — specifically tackling “healthy” frozen pizzas. I used to write much-beloved reviews of my friends’ Subway sandwiches on Facebook years ago, so I guess you can say… I’m back, baby. Let’s go.
I wanted to try as many as possible, and though I skipped one major brand (Daiya — too many calories and too much sodium), I think I covered the major players that can be found at Walmart and across Kroger family affiliates and subsidiaries.
Before I start waffling on too much, or peppering this with unnecessary tangents, I think it’ll be best if I just get straight into things…
This Frozen Showdown was conducted over the course of two subsequent evenings.
Each pizza was cut into 8 small slices.
I sampled 3 slices from each pizza to gain a comprehensive enough understanding without needing to extend the testing over several days. I felt that 3 small slices from different sections of the pie would effectively account for inconsistencies, anomalies, and variations in topping distribution.
Neither parmesan nor crushed red pepper were added to any slice (despite the desire to do so). Each slice was eaten as is.
Each pizza was cooked at its suggested heat level, for the median time as suggested on the box.
The following pizzas were included in the lineup:
Quest Uncured Pepperoni
Banza Margherita
Simple Truth Italian Style Veggie
Amy’s Cheese
Milton’s Uncured Pepperoni
Caulipower Buffalo-Style Chicken


Pizza #1: Quest Uncured Pepperoni
Now for our first entrant into this health-conscious, Italian Royal Rumble.
(Assuredly, I am the first person to ever type those particular words together.)
The one thing this pizza has going for it is the (alarming) amount of protein — 28g PER SERVING (there are two!) — which is a LOT, obviously. Like, maybe too much? Surely the pepperonis themselves are only accounting for what, 10g maximum? 46g from what other source? Standby while I look at the ingredients…
I’m back. Milk protein isolate. Don’t ask me what that means exactly, but I think that basically suggests that the crust has protein powder in it. Fine! It’s a good idea in theory, I agree, but in practice… not as much. The crust had the same consistency as the sad (and weirdly wet) texture of a microwaved Bagel Bite — what you’re left with when your lack of patience for the proper oven cook gets the best of you. The pepperonis themselves were sandy and thick. As you can see from the picture, they weren’t integrated into the pizza’s build; this is obviously just a Plain Ass Cheese Pizza with a couple ‘ronis sprinkled on top. You can even see the deception — Quest lies! Quest lies! — in the box art. Look at those specks of cheese atop the pepperonis nearest to the crust-edge, falsely implying that any amount of cheese was sprinkled over the top. Don’t play like that.
But… that… protein. If you got a bowl at Chipotle and got double meat steak & chicken, it would have less protein than eating this shitty little pizza.
Rating: D+
Side note: It did taste better the next day, cold, as I kept a few slices in a Tupperware container.


Pizza #2: Banza Margherita
My first time ever having chickpea crust — did it deliver? Or… did it taste like a hummus-sopped monstrosity?
Neither really! It was kind of gummy… kind of pasty — almost like store-bought gnocchi in a way. Honestly, if you were ever into eating Play-Doh as a kid (I was), this will be of some interest.
Long-time knowers-of-me may be surprised to see me eating something as tomato-forward as a Margherita pizza, but I’ll have you know that I’ve softened my edges and distastes as I’ve grown older; I’ve always heard that’s a natural phenomenon but never believed it until recently. I don’t seek tomatoes out, mind you, but am not as offended by their presence at parties as I once was. Olives, on the other hand, will always be barred from entry.
All in all, this was middling — the splish-splash of acidic brightness from the roasted tomatoes was appreciated, but ultimately undercut by the fraudulent cheese distribution as compared to the box art. You can see the corners that were cut — look at the south and southwest areas of what I received compared to the featured pie. Clearly not a case of ingredients shifting in transit, as there is no cheese buildup elsewhere in counterbalanced contrast. The middle and northeast areas are also egregious!
Surely cheese is the one thing I shouldn’t have to wish for more of on a pizza, right? Know this: I am no uncultured swine — I’M AWARE that Margherita pizza historically has less cheese and more sauce. Actually, Spencer, it’s deeper than that. It’s traditionally made with crushed tomatoes and fresh mozzarella, then topped with basil leaves to represent the tri-colored flag in celebration of Queen Margherita’s visit to1———yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up.
It also traditionally DOESN’T COME ON A CHICKPEA CRUST.
Rating: C (…hickpea)
Side note: This absolutely did not taste better the next day and was, at the stage I ate it (cold, dripping with condensation), truly an affront to the concept of Pizza. Leftover Banza is best left to raccoons and other hungry night creatures.



Pizza #3: Milton’s Uncured Pepperoni
If you’re anything like me, and I imagine you are in at least this way, you’ve never heard of the brand Milton’s. They seemingly make a variety of gluten free crackers… and frozen pizza. Not the business I would start, but hey! Not much more to say on that.
This was just not good. Straight up.
Like… was it FINE? Yeah, sure. It was fine. The most curious thing about this Milton’s pizza was that it somehow tasted deep-dried. And what of its mouthfeel, you ask? Deep-fried as well! If you’re looking for an oily, steamy crunch when you chow down on some pizza, look no further (though, I’d also suggest looking inward for the answer as to why). This felt like it had a top layer of Fried — not fried anything-in-particular — no, just a layer of Having Been Fried. I don’t get it! Huh! There’s no way that could have come about from cooking it for the median amount of time; my oven is well-tempered and by all accounts Normal.
Outside of the above, there was nothing else that set this pizza apart from any other. Its cauliflower crust wasn’t noticeably good or bad, its overall flavor also a non-factor. Why create this? If this pizza was a song, it would undoubtedly be “What Was I Made For?” by Billie Eilish. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Rating: C-


Pizza #4: Caulipower Buffalo-Style Chicken
There are red things, and there are orange things. So far, I’ve reviewed only red pizzas and realize that I should’ve most likely stuck with that subtheme in order to be as fair as possible here. Oh well!
This is the only orange pizza I tried… and it was GREAT!
As you can see, the pizza ended up looking pretty identical to the box art, which by now you know I value. The taste also lived up to my expectations — velvety buffalo tang, zippy little onions, nice little bits of chicken (nothing nasty, chewy, gristly, etc.), and really decent, crispy crust. Final thoughts on this one: BUFFA-WHOA! These folks really know their stuff!
Initial Rating: A
Side note: I’ve already repurchased this since first trying it!
…
Amended side note: My second, repurchased pizza DID have one singular ‘nasty, chewy, gristly’ piece of chicken — I must in fairness knock the rating down to reflect this.
Final Rating: A-



Pizza #5: Simple Truth Italian Style Veggie
I’m just going to say this up front — this was perhaps the craziest pizza I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.
First things first — this pizza is pretty much wholly antithetical to what I’d normally seek out. Its overall theme might best be summed up as Dragged Through Nonna’s Garden; I’m not sure what an “Italian style” vegetable is but this pizza is absolutely covered and smothered with them.
Most pizzas take on some sort of transformation from freezer to plate — all of the pizzas that have come before look as though they’ve changed in some discernible way from their frozen version — but not this bad boy. Yes, the cheese melted (and still only somewhat) but look at those toppings, clearly undaunted by the oven’s relentless blaze.
Even with its pallid crust and soaking wet vegetable schmear, I was excited to tuck into this one and see where it might take me…
If this had been a blind taste test and someone had fed it to me, I would have thought this was a piece of butternut squash and absolutely nothing else. The whole thing! Just squash! At first, I was taken aback and extremely confused — what horror hast thou bestowed upon the world, Simple Truth? What madness through yonder test kitchen breaks? But then I ate more…
And I liked it?!
Slimy? Sure, a bit. Oddly sweet? Assuredly. Abstract when compared to all other pizzas I’ve ever tasted in my life? Well, yes!
I don’t understand this pizza AT ALL. Truly. But that’s also what I seek out and like when it comes to poetry and literature — I want to be fed something that makes no sense to me but does or did to someone else. That’s one of the many beauties of life. If I were to hop into your body and use your brain, or if you were to hop into my body and use what I’ve got, neither of us would have any idea how to operate — we’d freak the hell out and overdose on woe. And yet, ostensibly, you are a Body and Mind and so am I — at least we guess so! That is simply marvelous.
This is a pizza, but also, not a Pizza. It’s Dadaism in the frozen aisle!
PLEASE… SOMEONE… try this pizza and leave me a comment once you do — send me a text — call me.
Rating: A+/A/A-/B+/B/B-/C+/C/C-/D+/D/D-/F



Pizza #6: Amy’s Cheese
Man… I have so little to say about this one. It’s decent, but not like, Good.
It’s like… school lunchroom pizza. Hospital cafeteria pizza. Bowling alley pizza. Pizza that you might happen upon in Any Given Situation. Timeless pizza. Archetypical pizza. Perhaps even… quintessential pizza. This is the pizza your grandparents ate 70 years ago, and the pizza that your kids’ kids will scarf down between songs at an intergalactic Tesla roller rink someday.
It doesn’t matter if you buy this or not, it will always Be. It has always Been.
(The sauce is actually quite tasty — like a (somewhat, ever-so-slightly) deeper ragu as opposed to the classic tinned tomato flavor. Not bad.)
Rating: E (for Everyone, and also for Chuck E. Cheese — another place you’re likely to find this!)
Welp.
Glad that’s over with! I had fun and hope you did as well.
It’s amusing that the longest post on this blog so far is me just chatting absolute shite about frozen pizzas — but hey — whatever. I’ll get back to the philosophical ins-and-outs of this whole thing soon enough. I’ve had a very challenging couple of days recently, so, this was a pleasant respite. I really need to write more about the exercise(s) I’ve been doing as well. The people need to know! You are the people; thank you for being them.
Please LIKE/HEART this post for the algorithm — share, subscribe, etc., too.
Until next time,
Spencer
Thank you, Wikipedia; I don’t actually know anything. I’ve never known anything.
Love this! 🤣 I think you found your niche- reviewing grocery store items for those of us who need a laugh. So good…😂
The thing is, I trust you so completely.
This is written by the Spencer I know, or one of them☺️☺️. Trev would have bust a gut laughing as I did. Time to go hunting for Buffwhoa and Italian Veggie😂😂😂