Although I often behave like a cranky old man, I don’t live
underneath a rock. I watch TV. I cyberstalk people I knew in 3rd
grade on social media. I talk to
people. And sometimes, I even leave the
house. Unfortunately, leaving the house
often serves as a method of proving my various hypotheses about the human race,
such as:
- There are a whole bunch of people who believe that cell phones provide a cloak of invisibility. Either that or they just don’t really care that I have a front row seat to a graphic description of what they found in Junior’s diaper. Newsflash: not only can I see you, I can hear you. And I really, really, really want you to STFU.
- Turn signals are an optional feature on several types of cars, many of them very expensive luxury cars. I find this perplexing, because although my trusty Honda Civic didn’t come with a lot of bells and whistles off the factory floor, it was equipped with turn signals as a standard option. As a demonstration of my gratitude, I use them every time I intend to turn the car and also to indicate my desire to change lanes. BMW guy, I’m sorry that for $40 grand plus, all you got was a lease you can’t afford, a bad attitude, and no turn signals anywhere in sight. Maybe that explains your super-sucky driving.
- Even though we all pay the same price to belong to this “fitness club”, the rules about using cardio equipment for 20 minutes maximum don’t apply to everyone. These are the same people who also have an ambivalent attitude about cleaning up after themselves. Please – after you’ve sweated up that treadmill for the past 90 minutes, just walk away. I would love the opportunity to marinate in your sweat.
- Tossing your lit cigarette butts and/or McDonald’s happy meal remains out your car window is just as good as finding a trash receptacle or ashtray. I, for one, love it when a lit cigarette bounces off my windshield at 55 miles an hour almost as much as I love finding other people’s garbage in my front yard.
Obviously, I could go on and on
and on and on – but unlike the people referenced in my examples above, I can
take a hint, and I can feel you getting impatient waiting for me to make a
point. Well, here it is. Our 24th week of pizza consumption
was leading us back to my least favorite neighborhood in Minneapolis – uptown. I rather poetically
described my disdain for this vibrant area in week
16, so I won’t belabor the point except to remind you that I have a real
problem with hipster doofuses. Our week
24 pizza destination, Galactic Pizza,
appeared to be the zenith of hipster doofusdum.
In fact, my friend Jon recommended a trip to Galactic not because he
thought the pizza would change my life but because he was pretty darned sure
that my head would explode in a spectacular show of intolerance.
Because I don’t live under a rock,
I had a vague awareness of Galactic Pizza.
I’d seen their delivery drivers dressed up as superheroes, zipping
around uptown in electric cars. Pizza
delivered by a guy in pink tights, a cape, and Doc Martens? Sure.
There’s nothing weird about that at all. (See photo below from Citypages)
Pre-Pizza Moods:
Since I was pretty convinced that
week 24 would be an adventure, I decided to take the opportunity to change up
the participation as well. Normally,
pizza night is a special date night for my hubby and me. It’s the one time during the week (when we’re
not on some insane, carb-free diet, that is) where we do something new and
spend quality time together. I was a
little nervous that I might stab a hipster with a fork and that bail money
might be required – so we invited another couple to join in our little pizza
adventure. Sure, inviting guests meant
there would be additional witnesses, but it also ensured that our party would
have enough bail money to spring me.
The couple in question included a
work colleague and his wife. Said work
colleague and I spend an inordinate amount of time snickering and making jokes
at the expense of anyone and everything around us, and we frequently laugh so
hard that one or both of us winds up in tears.
My pre-pizza mood was about a
7. I was a bit nervous about introducing
my hubby to a new couple – you never know how that’s going to go – and let’s be
clear. I was expecting to be annoyed to
death by hipsters.
Hubby’s pre-pizza mood was about a
6.5, mostly because we didn’t eat at 4 PM like we normally do and he hates
waiting. Especially for pizza.
Parking Situation and Exterior Appearance:
It’s uptown. You park on the street. At a meter.
If you can find a spot. We were
fortunate enough to find a spot about half a block away from Galactic’s front
door. I kept my eyes shut while my hubby
parallel parked and vowed that I would never return to Galactic Pizza on my
own, unless it was in a taxi.
From the outside, Galactic is a
quaint little storefront in a sunny yellow building. Having done a little research on the joint
prior to our visit, I’d learned that this self-proclaimed “planet saving pizza”
place uses renewable wind energy to power their restaurant. As a hybrid car driver, avid recycler, and
fan of the planet in general, I must admit I find that pretty cool. Although I did attend a liberal arts college
and took the required science courses to graduate, I’m hardly an engineer, so I
must confess that I sort of expected to see a giant windmill or something on
their roof. How does this work? I want to see the wind! I am highly curious about this renewable wind
energy thing and therefore, I implore my more scientifically competent friends
to explain this to me using color crayons and hand puppets so I can
comprehend. In return, I can answer any
questions you might have about the Fair Labor Standards Act. Call me!
Entrance/Welcome:
After you burst
through the front doors of Galactic Pizza, you’ll be confronted by some velvet
curtains. (They might not be
velvet. I never took a Home Economics
class so this is another area where I’m out of my element. Ironically, I did work as a teacher’s aide in
a Home Ec class for a semester but that’s a story for another day.) After you part the perhaps velvet curtains,
you’ll enter the restaurant itself.
Galactic Pizza has a “seat yourself” philosophy and limited
seating. If you go on a Saturday night,
you can expect to wait. We closed the
curtains (it’s rude to stare at people while they eat) and proceeded to
wait.
Note: there’s
really no good place to wait here. If
you stay behind the maybe-velvet curtain, you’ll be next to the exterior door,
and if it’s cold out, you’ll get blasted with arctic air every time someone
enters or exits. If you enter the
restaurant itself, you’ll be looming over some poor diner.
After a 10 minute
wait, we were able to secure a table.
Our dining companions were still en route, so we previewed the menu and
had a snack.
Clientele/Overall Vibe:
I had a
preconceived notion that this place would be jammed with elbow-to-elbow hipster
doofuses and patchouli-scented hippies. And
I was wrong. It happens. Deal with it.
Galactic Pizza draws a diverse crowd – young, old, families, hemp-lovers,
couples on dates, and middle-aged opinionated pizza bloggers.
Galactic Pizza is a self-described
values-led company. They deliver pizzas
in electric cars. They use locally
sourced, organic ingredients. They compost their food waste. Takeout orders are placed in biodegradable packaging. If you order a “Second Harvest Heartland”
pizza, $1 is donated to this hunger relief organization. They use hemp products and the menu is
printed on hemp paper. And the list goes
on and on. Read more about their mission
and vision here.
Wait Staff:
I’m not going to
lie. I was relieved to see that our
server was not, in fact, wearing tights and a cape. She was not a super-hero, but she was a great
server! Not only did she help us
navigate the menu, she made suggestions and when we showed off our indecisive
sides, she diplomatically suggested a peaceful solution.
Menu Selection:
Galactic Pizza is
totally serious about their mission of saving the planet – but they also know
how to have fun. What I loved about this
place is their whimsical and playful take on their serious mission. Take the menu, for example. It comes with 3D glasses, to help you “peer
into the future of food satisfaction”.
Galactic Pizza
offers a wide selection of specialty pizzas, and if you have dietary restrictions,
do not despair! Gluten free, vegetarian,
and vegan options abound. Salads,
pastas, and desserts are also on the menu.
To wash it all
down, you can enjoy soda, organic iced tea, or a selection of beers and wines.
Food Wait Time:
True confession: we
didn’t time the pizza wait time since we were busy socializing. We had great fun with our guests and will
likely invite them to join us in future pizza outings if they are still
speaking to us after watching how rowdy I become after two beers.
Drumroll, please . . . the Pizza Itself:
Each couple at our
table ordered their own pizza – primarily because the hubby and I have food
aggression and our guests feared being victims of a fork stabbing or biting. Because we were struggling to make a decision,
our server gently suggested that we do a half and half. We got an Old School and Mexacali.
The Old School is
your traditional pizza; tomato sauce, mozzarella, pepperoni, sausage, mushroom,
green pepper, and red onions on a regular, old school crust. (No gluten free for us.) It was one of the best pizzas I’ve tasted in
recent memory.
The Mexicali is
Galactic’s version of the taco pizza, made famous in elementary school
cafeterias around the world in the 1980’s.
Featuring Salsa Lisa cream sauce, mozzarella, cheddar, chicken, green
onion, roma tomatoes, cilantro, and jalapeños, this was also a winner.
The pizza was hot,
fresh, and assembled with care. Unlike
prior pizza excursions where the corner of the pizza was lost en route to the
table (talking to you, Michelangelo’s),
this was a pizza that was made with love and organic ingredients.
Our dining companions
also went with a half-and-half approach on their pizza. I believe they went with the Paul Bunyan on
half and sadly, I’m not sure what they had on the other half because I was too
busy licking my chops and shoveling pizza into my own pie hole.
Price and Value:
You’ll pay a little more at
Galactic Pizza than at say, Domino’s. A
large pizza will run you about $22 – but if you can swing the prices, it’s
definitely worth it. Not only is this a
values-driven company, it’s a fun dining experience and the food is delicious. Did I save the planet? No.
But I felt like I was doing something good.
Post-Pizza Mood:
We loved having
dining companions (thanks, Jeff and Lori!) and this was just the dining
experience to share with others. We left
Galactic at a post-pizza mood of about 8.5 each. It would have been higher but we
over-indulged and when your pants are hurting you, it’s hard to get to a
perfect 10.
Bottom Line:
I’m ashamed of
myself. I judged Galactic Pizza without
giving it a chance. The uptown location
and the guys in tights led me to believe this was a hipster doofus paradise and
therefore, a representation of everything I loathe in this world. And I was wrong. I’m grateful to my friend Jon for
recommending this place to me, even though his recommendation was mean-spirited
because he was convinced my head would explode.
(I forgive you, Jon.)
There’s no shame in
Galactic’s game. They have a very
serious mission and vision, and they walk their own talk. They lead with their values, which is a
refreshing change of pace. The best part
is that they make a freaking awesome pizza in the process and they manage to
make saving the planet fun.
Sure, the parking
situation sucks. And it costs a little
more. But it’s definitely worth a visit
and if I can get a ride, I’ll be back.
