Week 15: Element Pizza (Northeast Minneapolis)

When you eat pizza every week, you become more attuned to what’s trending in the wild world of pizzerias.  And what’s trending now is the wood-fired pizza.  Whether it’s branded as “authentic Neapolitan” or just plain “wood-fired”, these trendy little joints are popping up all over the place.  Some are chains like Punch Neapolitan, which we visited week 8, and some are small, independent knock-offs, like the place we patronized on our 15^th week of consecutive pizza consumption. 

Week 15 found us once again on West Broadway Avenue, but this time, we were solidly in Northeast Minneapolis at Element Pizza, a place recommended by my mom (see, Mom?  I do listen to you!) and also by my NE-dwelling friends, Jon and Jennifer. 

A somewhat alarming trend has emerged over the past few pizza-eating weeks.  Specifically, the hubby and I spend all day anticipating our future pizza consumption, and, because we are concerned about spoiling our appetites, often forgo our traditional breakfast, lunch, and snacks in order to “save up room” for pizza.  Unfortunately, this tactic has backfired because by 3 PM, we are a bit peckish.  The rumbling of our tummies, low blood sugar, and a general feeling of shakiness and lightheadedness makes us anxious, panicky, and cranky.  And nothing good can come from that.  Thus, our dinner hour has gotten earlier and earlier and earlier week after week after week – and instead of a pizza date night, we’re heading toward a pizza brunch at this rate.  It’s only a matter of time before we’re foraging for pizza for breakfast.

On our 15^th week of consecutive pizza consumption, we gave in to our mid-afternoon hunger and I am only mildly ashamed to report that we departed Golden Valley at 3:30 PM for pizza.  Desperate times call for desperate measures, folks.

Pre-Pizza Moods

Princess D: You won’t like me when I’m hungry.  I don’t like me when I’m hungry.  You also won’t like me when I’m tired, having a bad hair day, or feeling fat.  All of the above were going on last weekend.  Even so, I picked myself up by my bootstraps and for you, my loyal readers; I forced myself into a pre-pizza mood of 5.  You should be very impressed because all signs pointed toward a full-fledged campaign for Mayor of Crankytown.

Hubby:  The hubby, who is often a happy-go-lucky kind of guy and whose pre-pizza mood typically rivals my own, had a headache.  Probably due to missed meals and hunger, but I’m not a doctor so that’s just a guess.  He was also slightly horrified to be having our pizza date at 3-something in the afternoon.  He clocked in at a 5 also.

Parking Situation:  When you have your pizza date at 3:30 PM, you miss both the lunch and the dinner crowd.  In this case, that was definitely a good omen, since Element possesses a petite parking lot.  During the lunch and dinner rush, I imagine it is challenging to park – and I am not going to chance it myself.  In their defense, Element’s website owns up to the fact that their parking situation is less than optimal and patrons are informed that they have a “small parking lot” and you’re encouraged to avail yourself of free parking on residential streets if the parking lot is full. 

Exterior Appearance: It’s not much to look at from the outside.  Element Pizza is in a small, rectangular, single-story building with painted red brick.  They’ve done their best to make a squat, nondescript building look appealing.  They have a patio that might be larger than their dining room (!), dramatic awnings, and sweet flower boxes.  But you can only do so much with a squat building.  Points for effort, though.

Entrance/Welcome: Like its Neapolitan pizza competitors, Element Pizza has counter-service.  When you walk in, you’ll first notice the rustic, cabin-style interior.  Bright windows, woodsy décor, and the smell of wood-fired dough embrace you with a big, welcoming hug as you enter.  Element is family owned and operated, so odds are that you’ll see the patriarch of the family working behind the counter.  He wears many hats and odds are, he’ll be baking pizzas, taking orders, ringing people up, and serving drinks.   The open floor plan allows you the opportunity to watch your pizza come to life before your eyes.

Clientele/Overall Vibe: In spite of the early hour, we were not the only patrons at Element!  A steady stream of take-out clients were in and out, and there was another first-time couple there as well.  How do I know it was their first time at Element?  Because they got there before us and we had to wait an agonizingly long time while they tried to navigate the menu and decide on their order. 

Wait Staff: I can’t rate the wait staff since this is a counter-service restaurant.  However, I would like to comment briefly on the counter service, since not only did we wait there for a long time, but the girl who took my order failed to pour my beer and then patently ignored me while I stood there waiting and tapping my foot impatiently.  She refused to make eye contact with me and eventually, the multi-tasking patriarch noticed me looming over the counter and eventually, poured my beer.  Since I actually tipped her when I paid my bill, I was not super-thrilled with the whole, “I won’t give you your beverage or acknowledge you” vibe. 

Menu Selection: All Element pizzas are 12 inches and feature San Marzano tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella cheese.  Those of you who passed high school chemistry or my fellow liberal arts college attendees who took an introductory philosophy course may vaguely recall a lesson on the classical elements; fire, water, air, and earth.  Element is embracing this concept in their menu, which features pizzas cleverly named after the elements.  You can also build your own.

Since we couldn’t agree on a pizza, we decided to order individually.  I ordered the Element, which featured sun-dried tomatoes, roasted eggplant, arugula, and basil.  The hubby ordered the Fire, since he likes a little spice in his life.  The Fire is comprised of spicy sausage, roasted red pepper, goat cheese, and basil.

Food Wait Time: I can’t comment since I was consumed with trying to get someone to give me my damn beer.

Drumroll, please . . . the pizza itself:  Better than Punch?  Definitely.  Element uses fresh ingredients and they take a lot of pride in delivering a fresh, tasty, wood fired pizza.  It goes well with a delicious, fresh spinach salad (I have to eat my veggies, folks) and that beer I eventually received washed it all down nicely.  If you’re bought into this wood-fired pizza fad, you could do worse than Element.

My hubby liked this pizza almost as much as he enjoyed Pizzeria Lola, but we both agreed that we preferred the ambience, people-watching, and pizza itself at Lola to Element.  My hubby is developing a taste for the Neapolitan pizza.  I’ll probably have to start pinching pennies to save up for a trip to Italy next . . .

Price & Value:  You get a lot of food for your money at Element.  However, it’s hard to feel like you’re getting a real bargain when you’re shelling out $40 to eat at a place featuring counter service.  I’m torn on how to rate the price and value.   The food was exceptionally fresh and the servings were generous, which has me leaning toward giving Element a passing grade on price and value – but $40 for a pizza date is still on the pricey side of the equation.  I’ll let you make the call. 

Post-Pizza Mood: We left Element hovering around a 7.  My hubby was all gung ho to go forth and embark on a post-pizza adventure, whereas I wanted to lay down for a long winter’s nap.  We ultimately headed back to Golden Valley where we separated; he to the living room and the television and I to my nest (aka bed) with my Kindle and my cookie monster jammies. 

Bottom Line: If you like-a the wood-fired pizza, you might-a like-a Element.  Or you might not.  Superior to Punch, certainly – and all the elements are in place for this to be a winner, but something is just a tad bit off.  I can’t put my finger on exactly what was amiss (aside from my missing beverage), so if you’d got an extra $40 in your pocket and a rumbly in your tumbly, you might head over to Element and check it out for yourself.

Week 14: Original Broadway Station (Broadway Pizza, Minneapolis)

Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, we didn’t have your smarty-phones, your portable computers, or more than five television channels.  We didn’t have Atkins diets, Botox, and the only yogi we were familiar with was a cartoon bear famous for irritating the park ranger and begging for picnic baskets.  Our phones had cords and were connected to the wall – usually in our kitchens, and if someone was on your phone, other callers got a busy signal.  For entertainment, we went outside.  And way back in the dark ages, there was no such thing as pizza delivered right to your doorstep.  If you wanted pizza, you left the house. 

We were fascinated with the past and watched cartoons where people drove their cars with their feet and slid down the back of a dinosaur to punch out at the end of their shift.  We were incapable of imagining a world much beyond 2062, when we were pretty confident that we’d have our very own robot maids, flying cars, and if we were really lucky, a well-paying job at Spacely Sprockets like our buddy George, who works an hour a day, two days a week. 

In those days, pizza was a rare treat.  It meant that Mom wasn’t on a diet; that Dad’s job was going well; and sometimes, it meant a family trip to Broadway Pizza, a Minneapolis institution since 1961. 

According to their website, Broadway Pizza has been part of the Minneapolis pizza scene for more than 60 years.  The north Minneapolis restaurant was forced to move due to construction on I-94, and owner Eddie Peck was committed to remaining in the north Minneapolis location that made his pizza famous.  He purchased land in the heart of the railroad activity that was responsible for driving growth in “NoMi” and paid homage to the neighborhood, its people, and the railroad tradition by choosing a railroad theme for Broadway Pizza.  The “Original Broadway Station” is located at 2025 West River Road in Minneapolis.  Although the world – not to mention the neighborhood – has changed a lot since 1961, this pizzeria continues to overlook the Mississippi River on property that is crossed by SOO Line and Burlington Northern railroad tracks. 

(Side note: I just want to clarify that although Broadway Pizza is over 60 years old, I myself am not quite 60.  Yet.)  When I was a kiddo, we occasionally went out for pizza and one of the very coolest places we went was the Original Broadway Station.  Not only does it boast a cool train motif – it also has a detached train car where you used to be able to dine.  In fairness, I didn’t check to see if you can still eat in the train car because it was raining out and I’m old.  But it looks cool.

When we left home for our 14^th week of pizza consumption, I had some fond memories of Broadway Pizza.   When we actually arrived and went through the front doors, it was like getting into a DeLorean Time Machine and being catapulted back to my youth.  Unlike some of my repressed childhood memories involving a mean, oddly athletic playground bully who ultimately married the boy I had a crush on all through high school (which I am okay with, FYI) I found my return trip to Broadway Pizza to be a delightful experience.  My hubby, too, enjoyed his walk down memory lane.

Pre-Pizza Moods:

Princess D: 6 (it was raining out and as per usual, I wrestling with the battle between fatigue and hunger.)

Hubby: 6. We’d received some mixed messages from friends about Broadway Pizza, and although it came strongly endorsed by my friend Mark, we weren’t sure what to expect.

Parking Situation:  It’s not the parking situation that is terrifying about Broadway Station . . . it’s the drive to this place.  Specifically, I’m referring to the left hand turn we had to make from West Broadway to West River Road.  My life may have passed before my eyes.  But I digress.  If you manage to make it through the left-hand turn unscathed, you’ll be welcomed into a large parking lot with nice, wide spaces.  I noted a highway patrolman parked in the neighboring lot.  He was either thinking about pizza or lurking about waiting for criminals.  I hope it was the former.  Regardless, his presence (after I checked to make sure we were complying with all current laws) inspired a sense of comfort. 

Exterior Appearance:  There’s a reason they call this location the Original Broadway Station.  It remains untouched by the hands of time in a way that the surrounding neighborhood hasn’t. 

A brief history lesson: West Broadway Ave in North Minneapolis, even in its economic prime during the 1950’s, has always valued function over form.  It’s never been beautiful but it was a bustling retail era with two and three story grocers, drycleaners, butcher shops, restaurants, and movie theaters.  Today, West Broadway is a mix of abandoned houses, empty storefronts, and empty lots combined with tree-lined streets and new, suburban-style strip malls.  But West Broadway has been besieged with troubles since the street cars were removed in the mid-1950’s, leading to the first major exodus of residents and businesses to the suburbs.  Civil rights, aging housing stock, a freeway system that cuts this area off from the rest of the city, crime, and most recently, a tornado have all led to the migration of residents and businesses from the city to the suburbs.   

City councilwoman and NoMi resident Barbara Johnson makes a good point; “West Broadway is the only commercial corridor in the city that hasn’t been redeveloped.”  History lesson concluded.  My point?  It’s pretty damn amazing and special that Broadway Pizza has survived and thrived in a neighborhood overwhelmed by neglect and struggle.

Entrance/Welcome:  We arrived at the traditional AARP dinner hour, so the joint wasn’t bustling yet, although it got busier as we ate.  Walk right in and you’ll be greeted by a host(ess) who will be more than happy to seat you.  You’ll be asked about your booth versus table preferences (hubby prefers a booth) and you’ll be seated quickly and efficiently.  Nothing confusing about this at all.   

Clientele/Overall Vibe:  We were seated in the bar area, which is decked out like a train station.  An electric train circles the bar area on a regular basis and train lights and train crossing signs decorate each booth.   A baseball game played on the big screen TV and there was a pleasant mix of hardcore drinkers, pizza-loving families, and neighborhood locals. 

Wait Staff: Our server, Brenda, has been around the block. You can tell that she’s seen it all.  Helpful, efficient, and quick with a joke and a snappy comeback, we enjoyed her sense of humor.

Menu Selection: Although this is a pizzeria, the menu has pizza and much, much more.  In the mood for a wrap? Sandwich? Burger? Chicken wings? Hoagie? Pasta?  It’s all available here.  My dad gives their spaghetti and meatballs a thumbs-up.  Since we are all about the pizza, we quickly flipped to that section of the menu and ordered up a thin crust classic deluxe.  Both the menu and Brenda advised us that the Classic Deluxe is their #1 best seller so we ordered up.  I enjoyed a big beer on tap (reasonably priced and they have an impressive selection – but because I was feeling fat, I went with the diet beer in an effort to forgive myself for my lousy eating habits) and the hubby went with his old standby, the iced tea with lemon and pink sweetener.

Food Wait Time: Ok, ok – true confession.  Revisiting Broadway Pizza was such a nostalgic experience for us both, we spent our time reminiscing about our childhood visits; sitting in the train car; and how unusual it was for us to go out for pizza as kids.  In those days, you ate at home.  We hadn’t made the full transition to a fast food culture yet.  Because we were so busy sharing memories, we forgot to keep track of how long it took from order to pizza arrival.  Trust me when I tell you that it seemed no faster or slower than normal.

Drumroll, Please . . .the Pizza Itself:  It was even better than I remembered!  A crispy, thin crust.  The right ratio of cheese and sauce.  Evenly distributed and fresh toppings.  The classic deluxe combines cheese, sausage, pepperoni, fresh mushrooms, green pepper and onion.  There’s a reason this is their best seller.  Just greasy enough, this pizza is cut into squares to allow you to cram them into your piehole with maximum ease.   We licked the platter clean.  Repeat: we decimated an entire  large pizza in record time, and we were licking our chops afterwards. 

This pizza was a little slice of heaven and ranks up there with some of the best pizzas I’ve enjoyed.  My only complaint is that I needed to unbutton my pants to make room for  my post-Broadway giant pizza belly.  At the conclusion of our meal, I proclaimed that this was among my favorite pizzas ever.  I liked it even more than Latuff’s or Red Savoy. 

Price & Value: Can you put a price on revisiting fond memories of your childhood?  I think not.  Regardless, this delicious large pizza and beverages is a bargain. Total bill (before tip) was under $30.  Walk down memory lane?  Priceless.

Post-Pizza Mood: We were both at a post-pizza mood of 9.  If I could have left my pants buttoned, I might have been a 10. 

Bottom Line: There are a lot of Broadway Pizza locations across the Twin Cities metro area. I’ve eaten at several of them, and I’ll say this.  You can’t go wrong with the Broadway Pizza buffet at any of their MN locations.  But if you really want to experience the amazingness of Broadway Pizza, get yourself down to the train car.

Week 13: Pizza Luce (Richfield, MN)

Fun fact of the day: fear of the number 13 is an actual, documented phobia.  In case you are a contestant on Jeopardy! at some point in the future, you may be interested to know that this documented disorder is known in medical circles as Triskaideaphobia.  And I imagine that 2013 has been a rough year for these poor, superstitious bastards.  I mean – you can avoid the 13^th floor and you can stay home on Friday the 13^th to avoid being stabbed my crazy dudes in hockey masks, but I imagine it’s difficult to lock yourself away from civilization for an entire year just because you don’t like the number 13. 

I, for one, suffer from many irrational fears, including but not limited to and in no particular order:

Ornithophobia

Thanatophobia

Barophobia

Chiroptophobia

Odontophobia

Kakorrhaphiophobia

Fear of the Bonnie Tyler song, “Total Eclipse of the Heart”.  (This particular phobia seems to be unique to me.  And I stand by it.  Ever since November 11, 1983, every single time I hear this particular tune, insanely bad luck follows.  Thus, I have developing a very specific coping mechanism that includes yelling, plugging my ears, and thrashing around until I can change the station.  I am particularly irritated to note that this ditty of doom is now used in a FiberOne commercial.  I am confident that constipation is in my future as a result.) 

In spite of my many, many fears – and there are more, mind you – I merely highlighted the big ones for you - I do not happen to suffer from Triskaideaphobia.  I’m too busy worrying about birds, the earth’s gravitational forces conspiring against me, dentists, and Bonnie Tyler to be worried about the number 13.  So, it was with a spring in my step, joy in my heart, and a rumbling in my belly that I rounded up my hubby for a pizza “linner” 13 miles away from home on our 13^th consecutive week of pizza consumption.  (Editorial note: “linner” is not a typo.   After waking up at 5 AM; ingesting about 100 ounces of Starbucks’ finest; and eating nothing but a small peanut butter Rice Krispie treat all day, I was Starvin’ Marvin by 3 PM.  Out of a healthy sense of self-preservation, my hubby agreed to a late lunch/early dinner (aka linner) for our pizza date. )

Pre-Pizza Moods:

Princess D: 6

Hubby: 6

Our pre-pizza moods were slightly above average.  We were looking forward to a visiting Pizza Luce in Richfield, since “the Luce” holds a special place in our hearts.  And yes, you do have to endure the story.   My hubby was not immediately smitten with me, believe it or not.  I had to expend a significant amount of time and energy winning him over and convincing him to adjust his maximum height limit for love.   Before our first real date, he became involved in a home improvement project I was working on.  It involved a lot of dirt, patio pavers, sweat, and a third-party we’ll call “jerk face”.   Long story short, although sweaty, dirty, and disgusting, I began to sway my future hubby’s opinion about tall girls while we shared a pie at the Seward Pizza Luce location . . . and two weeks later, we had our first date.  I like to think it was the Luce that won him over.

Located on West 66^th Street between Lyndale and I-35W, Pizza Luce Richfield is the newest member of the Luce family and occupies the former home of Bridgeman’s Ice Cream Parlor.  Luce Richfield opened in the summer of 2012 – and although we are big Pizza Luce fans here (we’ve enjoyed their Uptown, Seward, and Hopkins locations), week 13 was our first trip to Richfield since their grand opening over a year ago. 

Parking Situation: It was a wet and windy late afternoon – the kind of weather that pretty much demands that you sport your favorite hoodie.  We drove the 13 miles to Richfield and pulled into Luce’s parking lot – which is well-paved, smooth, nice parking experience.  We nabbed a spot not far from the door and I’m fairly confident I could navigate this parking lot on my own, which says a lot given my dubious parking track record.  In fact, having attempted parking at other Luce locations, I’m going to go out on a limb and proclaim that Richfield has a superior parking lot.  And it did not go unnoticed.

Exterior Appearance:  Have you ever eaten at the India Palace in Roseville and felt both delighted by their authentic selection of curried favorites and oddly nostalgic for the Happy Chef that once occupied this space?  My point is that most of the time, when you eat in a restaurant that occupies the space of a former restaurant, you’re often surrounded by the ghosts of eateries past.  Pizza Luce in Richfield is the exception to this rule.  While they may occupy the former Bridgeman’s space, you’re not haunted by the ghosts of ice-cream sundaes past.  Luce updated the space and it looks like a contemporary, inviting restaurant even from the outside.  A huge outdoor patio (weather permitting) allows diners to enjoy pizza al fresco – and they have done an excellent job giving this former ice cream parlor a hip, pizza-loving vibe. 

Entrance/Welcome: Walk right in and you’ll be greeted by a host located right inside the door.  We were seated within 90 seconds of entry, and the hostess kindly inquired if we would prefer a booth or a table.  We’re booth people.  And our request was graciously accommodated.

Clientele/Overall Vibe: Keeping in mind that we were there at the “linner hour”, Pizza Luce wasn’t busting at the seams with patrons.  It was, however, happy hour (a happy accident) and there were several small parties seated at the bar and at tables around us who were enjoying happy hour specials.  Each Luce location has a different vibe.  When I eat at Seward, I don’t fit in due to my lack of tattoos and Gap-centric wardrobe.  (Sometimes I sport an ironic t-shirt just to fit in.  It’s pathetic.)  When I eat Uptown, I’m surrounded by hipster doofuses.  In Hopkins, I’m surrounded by minivan driving soccer moms and their offspring.  And in Richfield . . . well, it’s different.  Richfield is an inner-ring suburb, bordered by Minneapolis to the north, Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport to the east, Bloomington to the south, and Edina to the west.  It was voted as a “best place to live” in 2011, and Richfield boasts a lot of senior living communities as well as young families.  Richfield is kind of a melting pot and the Pizza Luce reflects that.  Unlike the other Luces where I never really felt like I fit in – but I enjoyed their pizza anyway – Richfield has an “anything goes, come on in” kind of vibe.  Way to go, Richfield!

Wait Staff: Our server, Shana, was outstanding.  She was helpful, fun, timely and she helped us reach a win-win ordering solution when I feared we’d reached an impasse.  Shana is the type of server every restaurant should have – and she was worth every red cent of the 25% tip I left her. 

Menu Selection:  Pizza Luce offers hoagies, salads, appetizers, desserts, and of course . . . lots of pizza.  Special dietary needs?  Vegans, vegetarians, and gluten-free diners are all happily accommodated here.  A wide variety of interesting specialty pizzas are on the menu.  If you’re feeling adventurous, Shana gave a strong endorsement of the Baked Potato Pizza and even offered to buy it for us if we didn’t like it.  In spite of her persuasive arguments for the potato pizza, Shana also advised us that the Classic and the Ruby Rae are among the most popular.  We proceeded to argue with one another about which to order until the very diplomatic Shana suggested we do half and half.  So we did.  She’s pretty great.

Food Wait Time:  Given the time of day and the small number of patrons, food service was slower than I would have expected.  However, the $3 happy hour wine – which is generously poured, might I add – kept my mind off my rumbling belly.   The longer wait time is actually not atypical in my Luce dining experience.  There’s always a wait. 

Drumroll, please . . . the Pizza Itself:  The Ruby Rae is an upside down pizza with the spicy, saucy, tasty red sauce on top.  It features spinach to make you strong, bruschetta tomatoes, Italian sausage, mozzarella and parmesan cheeses, and spicy crushed red pepper.  Upside down or not, it’s delicious.   The crust is nothing to write home about, but it serves as an excellent and evenly cooked easel upon which to create a masterpiece such as the Ruby Rae.  Yum, yum, yum. 

Now, Ruby Rae is clearly my favorite and what I order pretty much every time I have the opportunity to eat at Luce.  However, my hubby encouraged me to consider other options on this visit, so half of our pizza was the popular Classic.  Simple and traditional, this pizza isn’t trying to be special – it’s just good, old-fashioned pizza, featuring Italian sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, green peppers, onions, black olives, and a zesty red sauce.  Fresh, hot, and delicious – the classic is a classic.  We pretty much licked the platter clean on both halves of this pizza pie.  And the Ruby Rae still gets our collective vote as one of our favorite pizzas in town. 

Price & Value: A 16 inch specialty pizza, iced tea for the hubby, and happy hour wine for me ran us $31 plus tip.  And I tipped well because I sure liked Shana.  Having spent more money at places I’d rather not remember eating at (yes, weeks 7 and 12, I’m talking about you!), I’m going to go out on a limb and say that this is a good value for your pizza dollar.  Even if you leave a big tip.  Which you should, if Shana is your server. 

Bottom Line: You’re going to get a consistently delicious pizza at any of the Luce locations.  And I daresay that I prefer Richfield to the rest – the staff is great, the pizza is delicious, and there is a “come as you are” vibe that welcomes people from all walks of life.  It is 13 miles away, but 13 just might be my lucky number!  

Week 12: Sammy's Pizza (Coon Rapids, MN)

I know you’re sick of hearing about my difficulties driving and parking my own car.  Beyond those challenges, I also happen to harbor an almost pathological fear of automotive warning lights.  I believe these are referred to by smug automotive manufacturers and mechanics as “idiot lights” and they are meant to alert the car owner or driver of a possible malfunction somewhere.  My own car has a variety of colored lights on its instrument panel, designed to warn me of a variety of impending and likely expensive doom.  I’m also quite convinced that the people who design idiot lights are cruel sadists.  Otherwise, perhaps the lights would indicate the actual car problem versus simply flashing up red and orange pictures of wavy lines; water spigots; and devil horns.  (Or at least, that’s what they look like to me).  When these lights go on in my trusty Honda Civic Hybrid (100,000 miles and going strong!), my blood pressure rises, I start to sweat, and if I happen to be driving at the time, I veer to the side of the road, whip the glove compartment open, and promptly seek guidance from my owners’ manual. 

Why is this relevant, you ask?  I’m getting there.  As you may know, in addition to my own challenges behind the wheel, my beloved hubby cannot stand being a passenger in my car.  Something about the way I drive being compared to how elderly people . . . . do something x-rated.  Let us not discuss it.  Thus, when we leave the house as a couple, my hubby drives most of the time.  He won’t drive my car due to its lack of “get up and go” and also because I insist on using a furry pink steering wheel cover, which is a tad bit emasculating, I’ve been informed.  (Does it have to be pink?  No. But I do need a steering wheel cover because I don’t want to burn or freeze my delicate princess hands.)  So, when we left the house and headed 15.1 miles mostly north to Coon Rapids, MN, we took the hubby’s expensive German automobile.  And as soon as we exited the driveway, I became extremely agitated because I observed illuminated idiot lights on the dash. 

While I wanted to turn the car around, head home, and take the Honda, my hubby took it in stride and told me everything would be fine.  He does not subscribe to the “whip out the manual immediately to determine if the car is going to blow up” school of thought, as it turns out.  And off we went.

Although my hubby was determined to act like everything was hunky dory, I caught him listening to the car noises and when we finally arrived in Coon Rapids half an hour later, he popped the hood, swore under his breath, phoned a friend, and realized he was going to need to take the car to a professional.

Hence, pre-pizza moods were impacted.

Princess: 5

Hubby: 3.5 

Week 12 brought us to Sammy Perella’s Pizza and Restaurant in Coon Rapids, MN.  A few things to note about week 12.   Although Sammy’s was recommended by a friend whose pizza palate has never done me wrong in the past, he specifically did not recommend the Coon Rapids location and instead, insisted that we head to Duluth to try this life-changing pizza.  Because I can’t follow directions, Mark, we went to Coon Rapids instead.  And I’m sorry.  The other thing you should know is that the name Coon Rapids makes me giggle.  I’ve visited this fine suburb several times and I have not once observed a raccoon, so I’m not real sure about the “coon” part of their name, but the “rapids” refers to both the Mississippi River and possibly, the pace at which pizza is delivered to your table at Sammy’s, which was near record-breaking.  Rapid?  Indeed.

Parking Situation:  We again found ourselves in an Aurelio’s style strip mall.  The parking lot wasn’t as nice but the quality of the other strip mall tenants was slightly better.  We found a great spot near the door and after a few minutes of obsessing about the problems with the expensive German automobile, we headed inside.

Exterior Appearance:  Have you been to a strip mall restaurant?  Because that’s exactly what this looks like.  Enough said.

Entrance/Welcome: Walking in to Sammy’s is like getting into a DeLorean time machine and heading back in time.  I’m not exactly sure what era the décor is from or what type of vibe they’re going for, but there is definitely a cheesy (not to be confused with pizza) factor to the décor.  An old-fashioned hostess stand completes the look but we were greeted and seated promptly, so I’m observing, not complaining.

Clientele/Overall Vibe:  Apparently – and according to my hubby who ‘fessed up that he actually ate at Sammy’s at one point in his sordid past – Sammy’s has a fairly decent lunch buffet.  We were there for dinner so I cannot confirm or deny this rumor.  Other diners included a large number of blue hairs; some families; and other local types.  This is not a place for a date night; it’s not a place to see and be seen; it’s a place to get some grub.  On the plus side, we probably didn’t need to dress up to go there.

Wait Staff: Our server was very pleasant and helpful.  We consulted her for advice on what to order and she shared her personal preferences as well as what is popular with the locals.  She was efficient and friendly.

Menu Selection:  The menu is large and you can order anything from broasted chicken to Stromboli to burgers to pizza.  They do a little bit of everything.  They have specialty pizzas as well as make-your-own and you can peruse the whole menu here.  We went with a large Sammy’s Special, which featured Italian sausage, green pepper, and onion.  We also added black olives. 

Food Wait Time: Not only did we remember to set the timer this time, but we nearly dropped dead when our pizza arrived a mere 12 minutes after placing our order.  That’s what I call rapid!

Drumroll, Please . . . the Pizza Itself:  Perhaps our enjoyment was impacted by the pre-pizza idiot lights, but neither one of us had our socks knocked off by Sammy’s.  The pizza is . . . forgettable.  It was a step above a Domino’s delivery but frankly, Sammy’s ranks low on my list of pizza eateries.  The thin crust pizza was cut in squares, but the crust reminded me of communion wafers.  I almost expected my priest to show up with a challis and a blessing.  There’s a reason they only give you a tiny wafer at mass.  They don’t want you to fill up on the body of Christ, sure – but they also know that communion wafers are not delicious.  Either was this pizza crust.  ‘Nuff said.  The rest of the pizza wasn’t much better.  Aside from being overwhelmingly salty, there wasn’t much flavor anywhere.  There were some toppings, they were bland.  There was some sauce, it was salty.  We ate it, we got full, but we certainly didn’t pick up a souvenir t-shirt on our way out.  And if I can be honest, I was a little angry because I ingested a whole lot of salt, fat, and grease that I would be forced to sweat out at barre fitness and with Trainer Aaron and I didn’t even enjoy it!

Price & Value: I can’t even comment.  I think the prices were fine but since I did not enjoy the pizza, I am hardly going to give this place thumbs up for value.  I mean, seriously, all I could think about was communion wafers.  I almost tithed before I left. 

Post-Pizza Mood: After eating forgettable pizza, we returned to the expensive German automobile, where we basked in the glow of idiot lights all the way home.  No, our moods were not improved.  In fact, they were worse than when we arrived.  We both left Sammy’s at a mood of about 2. 

Bottom Line: I need to listen to my friends.  When they say, “go to Duluth”, I should not interpret this as, “go somewhere to the north of where you live, it will probably be the same.”  So, Mark – I’m sorry. And as your friend, let me advise you to stay the heck out of Coon Rapids if you want to continue your love affair with Sammy’s.  And for the rest of you . . . if you’ve had a different experience with Sammy’s of Coon Rapids, I’m all ears.