Update: Click here for our California Pizza Kitchen Pizza & Appetizer review

During a recent grocery trip to Safeway, I spotted this box of California Pizza Kitchen’s Pizza & Appetizers in the freezer aisle. I could only find the sicilian pizza with spinach artichoke dip variety, but there could be others. If you’ve seen other varieties, let us know in the comments.

This combination is similar to the DiGiorno Pizza & Cookies and Pizza & Wyngz that came out earlier this year.

I really hope there are other varieties, because I’m not a huge fan of CPK’s sicilian pizza. But I do enjoy their Spinach Artichoke Dip, which is possibly the unhealthiest way I can become strong to the finich, cause I eats me spinach. Actually, I can’t think of any other appetizer CPK offers, since I always order the dip, which comes with tortilla chips and not the flatbread wedges that come with the CPK Pizza & Appetizer kit.

The year is 1999. I have somehow managed to secure a computer and Internet access, despite the fact that I am living in my parents’ house, which is a museum of antiquities ranging from cassette tape players to avocado-green kitchen appliances. I have a Hotmail account with an incredibly dorky handle.

I check my email and am overwhelmed with quizzes sent by my friends, demanding information about my likes and dislikes. What is your favorite animal? (Unicorn!) What is your favorite movie? (The Crow! Shut up, I was like, 17.) When was your first kiss? (LIE LIE LIE LIE) What is your favorite food?

…

Paralyzed with indecision, I stare at the blinking cursor. How do I choose? I must pick something, because if I don’t complete this quiz and send it to five of my friends, I will be cursed with bad luck. For seven years. Those are going to be my most formative years! College! Binge drinking – legally! Actually getting that first kiss! There is way too much riding on this quiz. I have to choose something.

I usually went with something pedestrian, like steak, or spaghetti. Thankfully, my palate has actually grown less refined over the years, and I don’t categorize food I like as “favorites.” These days, I recognize the foods I like as “shit I am powerless against.” For instance, if I see a sandwich on a restaurant’s menu that includes au jus, that is what I am ordering. If there’s a pasta that uses pesto as its sauce, put down the menu, I’m ready to order. Salsa con queso? Move out of the way, I’m holding a chip that has a date with cheesy destiny.

This same compulsion also applies to spinach and artichoke dip. If you are dining with me at an establishment that offers this dip as an appetizer, you can kiss your desire to share a plate of potato skins goodbye. We are getting that dip, and I will reach across the table and cut you if you put up one word of protest. I’ll buy it frozen, I’ll buy it jarred, I’ll pretend I’m pregnant and have an insane craving for T.G.I. Friday’s shitty food in order to get at it.

I have a problem.

So when I saw California Pizza Kitchen’s Limited Edition Crispy Thin Crust Spinach & Artichoke pizza in the frozen food aisle, it was a no-brainer. Okay, so it’s not a dip, but it’s still spinach and artichoke getting sexy together, and that’s enough to send me knocking Jazzies over in order to get to it. The front of the pizza box describes it as “crispy thin pizza topped with spinach, diced artichokes, garlic, crème fraiche sauce, mozzarella, parmesan, asiago and romano cheeses.” So it really is just like they glopped some dip onto a thin pizza crust! My excitement is palpable. My excitement had to wait a little, as the oven had to pre-heat at 425 degrees, which actually takes longer than cooking the pizza, which only takes 10 – 12 minutes, which is pretty standard for a frozen thin-crust pizza.

I liked what I saw when I took the pizza out of the oven. The distribution of toppings was even and plentiful, both which are things I look for in a frozen pizza. The aroma was distinctly garlic, with a hint of cheese and spinach. The crust was, indeed, crispy, and I love that the toppings go right up to the outer edge. I honestly couldn’t tell you that all of the cheeses described on the front of the box are present; I am not, unfortunately, a cheese aficionado. However, you can see the parmesan sprinkled on top, and whatever cheeses are mixed up in there form a delicious, gooey, satisfying taste. I also can’t distinctly say that I detected crème fraiche as the sauce, but the sauce was perfect for a good white pizza. The garlic really made its presence known, but didn’t knock you over the head with it, which is what I’ve experienced previously with CPK’s Garlic Chicken pizza.

On this pizza, the garlic played really nice with all the other flavors. The spinach was flavorful and blended wonderfully with the cheese. My one complaint would be the artichokes – while they were plentiful, I would have liked to have seen more chunks and less thin little slivers. Because of their thinness, or perhaps because of the freezing process, the artichoke flavor virtually disappeared. Every once in a while I’d bite into one of the bigger chunks and get a burst of juicy artichoke, but for the most part the slivers add nothing to the table.

Overall, I thought this was a very successful white pizza experience. All the cheeses and the crème fraiche sauce gave it a much more sophisticated taste than your average frozen pizza, the spinach made its presence known, and the garlic tied all the flavors together nicely. The only thing missing was bigger, more flavorful artichoke pieces.

Will I give up spinach and artichoke dip forever and kneel at the alter of California Pizza Kitchen’s Limited Edition Crispy Thin Crust Spinach & Artichoke pizza? Of course not. First of all, while it’s a pretty good pizza, there’s no substitute for dipping a toasty wedge of buttered garlic bread into a warm tub of gooey goodness. Stealing the biggest piece of artichoke for yourself is the best part! Second, CPK frozen pizzas ain’t cheap – at $7.69 a pop, I could probably grab two frozen T.G.I. Friday’s Spinach Cheese & Artichoke dips, and then I wouldn’t have to lie about being pregnant all the time! I think my husband is starting to catch on to me.

That said, if you’re a fan of thin-crust white pizzas and the convenience of frozen food, I would recommend you try this pizza at least once. After all, it won’t be around forever.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/3 pizza – 330 calories, 150 calories from fat, 16 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 520 milligrams of sodium, 33 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 14 grams of protein, 15% vitamin A, 0% vitamin C, 25% calcium and 6% iron.)

Item: Limited Edition California Pizza Kitchen Spinach & Artichoke Pizza
Price: $5.49 (on sale; regular price $7.69)
Size: 1 pizza
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Flavors of toppings compliment each other well. Unicorns. Cheese blend tastes more sophisticated than on other frozen pizzas. Toppings were plentiful and evenly distributed. Finally getting that first kiss.
Cons: Not enough larger chunks of artichoke. Being a slave to certain foods. Expensive for a convenience food. Internet quizzes. T.G.I. Friday’s.

Somewhere out there someone is warming up the Red Baron Supreme Pizza by the Slice in the microwave and while watching it rotate to pass the time they think to themselves that the product is a metaphor for their forlorn life. And that person could possibly be the loneliest person in the world.

Who is the loneliest person in the world?

The loneliest person in the world wants a cat. Or maybe two cats. Or three. Or whatever the number of cats the Humane Society allows them to adopt. Or whatever the loneliest person in the world can fit in their studio apartment. However, the loneliest person in the world doesn’t want to be known in their apartment complex as “the cat person” who has a machine gun bunker’s worth of kitty litter bags stacked in their apartment. Fortunately for the loneliest person in the world, their landlord has prevented “the cat person” label from being affixed to them by neighbors because pets aren’t allowed in the building.

The loneliest person in the world chooses to work in the exciting 10-keyed realm of data entry because it’s the Solitare of the employment world. It’s one of the few things the loneliest person in the world excels at. The loneliest person in the world is amazingly accurate and has never made a mistake, but double checks their work because the company’s standard operating procedures say so. Even more impressive is the fact that the loneliest person in the world is ambidextrous when in comes to punching numeric keys in a robotic fashion. The loneliest person in the world wonders why there is so much interest surrounding the world’s fastest phone texter. The loneliest person in the world believes they would type circles around the world’s fastest texter, if the loneliest person in the world had a cell phone, which they have no need for since no one calls them.

You would think the loneliest person in the world would have some friends at work, but due to poor social skills caused by an extremely sheltered childhood, the loneliest person in the world doesn’t interact with co-workers, but does acknowledge their greetings with smiles and nods. The loneliest person in the world doesn’t have anything in common with fellow employees. The loneliest person in the world doesn’t think anyone in the office is into hobbies that the loneliest person in the world enjoys, like medieval horseback archery, duct tape art and egg shell carving.

So the loneliest person in the world sits alone in the corner of the office’s break room, eating the Red Baron Supreme Pizza by the Slice, which is perfect for the loneliest person in the world since they have no friends to share the other slices with if they had a whole pizza. The loneliest person in the world wishes that it didn’t take so long to prepare, which included microwaving it for 60 seconds on the edge of the microwave oven’s turntable, then 70-85 seconds in the middle of the turntable and then, if the cheese isn’t completely melted, continue cooking in 15 second intervals. The loneliest person in the world has to microwave it an extra 90 seconds to get the cheese completely melted. Although it’s no problem for a data entry expert to press the numbers one and five repeatedly on any kind of keypad, the loneliest person in the world wishes they didn’t have to do so during a lunch break.

Although the life of the loneliest person in the world isn’t very exciting, it’s much more exciting than the flavor of the Red Baron Supreme Pizza by the Slice. While the packaging brags about the fact that the two pizza slices included were “fire baked,” I wonder why that matters much since it’s going to be put through a microwave for more than two minutes. Sadly, during those two minutes, the “special crisping tray” doesn’t do a good job of crisping the crust. The amount of toppings on each slice was sad compared with what’s on the front of the box. Perhaps if each pizza slice had a decent amount of sausage, pepperoni, bell peppers and onions, it would’ve tasted better because it’s not a very flavorful pizza. Not even the sauce could save it because it was neither spicy or sweet.

If I were the loneliest person in the world, I’d avoid the Red Baron Supreme Pizza by the Slice. Although, since the pizza is kind of sad and pathetic, perhaps it would make the loneliest person in the world feel better.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 slice – 350 calories, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat*, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 910 milligrams of sodium, 200 milligrams of potassium, 41 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 15 grams of protein, 8% vitamin A, 25% calcium 4% vitamin C and 15% iron.)

*made with fully hydrogenated oil

Item: Red Baron Supreme Pizza By The Slice
Price: $3.49 (on sale)
Size: 2 slices
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Microwaveable. Comes with two slices. Being really good a data entry. Made with real cheese. Good source of calcium.
Cons: Tolerable pizza. Not very flavorful. Difficult to make cheese melt completely. Not a lot of toppings. Special crisping tray kind of sucks. Awesome source of sodium. Not being able to have pets.

The Kellogg’s Eggo Real Fruit Pizza Mixed Berry Granola was inevitable, which is unfortunate. If you break it down, you’ve got two food innovations (I use the term semi-sarcastically) that came together in a perfect storm of potential horror.

On the one hand, you’ve got the gourmet pizza movement, which cropped up a few decades ago. Based entirely on shit someone told me with no empirical evidence, Wolfgang Puck made the first gourmet pizza, so you can blame him for shit like cream cheese smoked salmon pizza and foie gras pizza and god knows what else. I also blame, again, with very little evidence, California Pizza Kitchen for bringing gourmet pizza to the masses, with creations like cheeseburger pizza and Pear & Gorgonzola pizza. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some gourmet pizza and non-traditional toppings. One of the little local pizza joints in my town has a $10 large unlimited topping offer that I abuse on a regular basis to create my own monstrosities. White pizza with a butter parmesan crust with double green olives, feta, onion, tomatoes and artichoke hearts, anyone? I wouldn’t be surprised if they take that deal off the table because I’m single-handedly putting them out of business.

The other part of this equation is the recent explosion of breakfast frozen food products. I don’t know when this started – maybe it’s been around for quite a while and I just never noticed – but I seem to remember a time when, if you wanted a breakfast frozen food, you grabbed yourself a box of Eggo waffles and shut the fuck up about it. Now you’ve got crazy options, from sausage Mcmuffins to bowls with all your shit thrown together to…whatever in God’s name this is.

My point, quite obviously by now, is that Eggo took these two concepts, herded them into a small pen, watched them do the nasty, and what came out a couple minutes later (food gestates quickly) was the Eggo Real Fruit Pizza. They wiped off the amniotic maple syrup and disgusting globs of strawberry jam and said, “I think we’ve got something here.” Kind of like how my friends think their newborn babies are cute, and I think they look like horrible aliens.

I hadn’t noticed this before, but there’s a strange purple sauce-like substance underneath the toppings. Ugh, is that supposed to be yogurt? I am not looking forward to having hot yogurt in my mouth. I’m also not comfortable with that sentence.

The instructions are simple: unwrap the pizza, flip the box over that it was resting in, set it on the silver circle on the back of the container, and throw it in the microwave for a minute to 1 1/2 minutes. I split the difference, and stuck it in there for 1 1/4 minutes. It was still a little cold in the middle, so I stuck it in for the extra 15, but my microwave is also a piece of shit, so bare that in mind. Waiting a minute and a half for a quick breakfast when you’re on the go is a little impressive. It takes me longer to smear cream cheese on a bagel. I have some pretty strict rules about cream cheese.

It actually smells pretty good coming out of the microwave. It smells like a bowl of oatmeal that has berries and granola in it – warm and inviting, something you’d want to eat on a cold, snowy day. Unfortunately it’s 106 and humid right now where I live, but I’ll close my eyes and use my imagination.

There’s obviously blueberries going on, scattered about the top of the pizza, shriveled up as they tend to do when cooked. They’re distributed nicely, but I would have liked to have seen a few more of them.

I don’t see any other recognizable berries, but there’s some red glop haphazardly strewn over the top. I took some off and tasted it by itself, and it tastes like they took some raspberries and turned them into a puree. It’s definitely real raspberries; it’s got that delicious tartness of the berry and I even got some seeds stuck in my teeth, which is the one thing that annoys me about raspberries. But I welcome them here, since they offer proof of real berry, unless Eggo spent millions of dollars attempting to create a facsimile of raspberry seeds to fool consumers. Probably a lot easier just to throw some berries in a blender and hold true to their claims of “real fruit.”

The dreaded yogurt sauce was nothing to fear after all. It’s very thin, and when I tasted it on its own, it had the faint flavor of mixed berry yogurt, but it was very mild and inoffensive. The granola is spread generously on one side of the pizza, but tapers out until there’s barely any on the other side.

I was truly surprised to see that the crust wasn’t actually a waffle. If I’d look more closely at the box, I might have figured it out, but my mind associates “Eggo” with “waffles” so decisively that I just assumed that would be the case. Instead, the dough of this “pizza” seems to be made out of wheat. It looks like a thin crust pizza crust, except darker. Unfortunately, it’s tasteless, soggy and way too chewy. I’m not even really sure what to call it. Wheat…pizza crust…thing. Except it tastes more like a bland PowerBar than a pizza crust.

There seem to be two fundamental problems with the Eggo Real Fruit Pizza Mixed Berry Granola: sogginess and poor topping distribution. The crust and the granola were both way too soggy. Perhaps it would have turned out better if I’d cooked it in the oven, but if you’re eating fruit pizza for breakfast, you either don’t have time to wait for the oven to preheat, you’re a college student who doesn’t even own an oven or you’re young enough that you’re not allowed to use the oven.

As far as the toppings go, the mysterious purple sauce was thin to the point where in some places, you could see bare patches of crust. The raspberry puree, which I think is the best part of this item, is strewn halfheartedly across the pizza, globbed up in some places and simply nonexistent in others. The granola is piled high on one half the pizza, but peters out into scattered flakes.

I have to say, I expected this whole “fruit pizza” thing to be a horror show. Instead, it just left me disappointed. If done correctly, it would have been quite tasty. A less chewy, less soggy, more flavorful crust, coated thickly with the delicious raspberry puree, a generous layer of crispy granola, and piled high with blueberries, would have actually been something that I’d consider spending 1 1/2 minutes nuking in the morning for a quick breakfast. Unfortunately, that’s not what the Eggo Real Fruit Pizza Mixed Berry Granola really is, so I think I’ll just stick with real pizza for breakfast. That box of double green olives, feta, and everything else pizza that’s been sitting out on the counter all night looks pretty good right now.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 individual-size pizza (5.3 ounces) — 390 calories, 110 calories from fat, 13 grams of total fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 2.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 390 milligrams of sodium, , 62 grams of total carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 17 grams of sugars, 10 grams of protein, 0% vitamin A, 6% calcium, 0% vitamin C and 8% iron.)

Item: Kellogg’s Eggo Real Fruit Pizza Mixed Berry Granola
Price: $1.67 (on sale; normally $3.29)
Size: 1 individual-size pizza (5.3 ounces)
Purchased at: Albertson’s
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Raspberry puree was delicious. Taking advantage of unlimited topping deals. Quick and easy to make. Purple sauce was not scary.
Cons: Soggy, tasteless crust and soggy granola. “Hot yogurt in my mouth” making me uneasy. Uneven and sloppily applied toppings. Just the idea of fruit pizza making me shudder. 46 percent of total fat was saturated fat on what appears on the surface to be a healthy food item.

Chicago, I know you’re still celebrating your Blackhawks winning the Stanley Cup, but I want to bring something negative to your attention that would probably get lost if I mentioned it while your anger from the Cubs not winning a World Series for the 103rd straight year erupts.

I just want to let you know that DiGiorno has a new deep dish pepperoni pizza. Well, at least they’re calling it a “deep dish pizza” because if you saw it for yourself, you would boo it hard, just like you do every time Brett Favre steps on Soldier Field.

Chicago is the birthplace of the deep dish pizza and as someone who has had a Chicago-style deep dish pizza from Giordano’s Pizzeria (and thinks it’s frickin’ awesome), I believe the Windy City should be appalled at DiGiorno’s poor attempt to create a deep dish pizza. I also believe the Second City should use the most powerful person in the Free World that comes from the great state of Illinois to stop DiGiorno from tainting the greatness of the deep dish pizza.

No, I’m not talking about President Zombie Abraham Lincoln, I’m talking about Oprah.

For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing a deep dish pizza, it’s like a large bowl that’s made of crust that’s filled with tomato sauce, cheese, sausage and other ingredients. However, the DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza isn’t at all like that and is basically a Pizza Hut Pepperoni Personal Pan Pizza, except slightly smaller, with a less crispy crust, with a slightly better tasting sauce and would probably make the late Linda Lovelace say, “I know deep, and that’s not deep.”

While I believe the DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza isn’t a good deep dish pizza because there isn’t enough filling in it to be considered a deep dish pizza, I do think it’s a good microwaveable pizza. The cooking tray does a decent job of making the pizza’s bottom crust a little crispy. On top of that crust is a few pepperoni slices that are cut into fourths, not enough cheese and a decent amount of sauce, which I thought was quite tasty and had a slight spiciness.

Overall, the DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza is a fine microwaveable pizza, but calling itself a deep dish pizza is a stretch, just like it’s a stretch when anyone on a New Jersey-based reality show calls themself a celebrity or nicely tanned.

(Nutrition Facts – Whole Pizza – 590 calories, 33 grams of fat, 16 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 45 milligrams of cholesterol, 950 milligrams of sodium, 52 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, 24 grams of protein, 15% vitamin A, 2% vitamin C, 35% calcium and 20% iron.)

Item: DiGiorno Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 7.5 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: A good microwaveable pizza for one. Tasty sauce. My ability to learn about Chicago though Wikipedia. Nice source of calcium, iron, and protein. Cooking tray does a decent job of crisping the crust. Oprah. President Zombie Abraham Lincoln.
Cons: Not a true deep dish pizza. It’s basically a Pizza Hut Personal Pan Pizza. Not enough cheese. Awesome source of saturated fat and sodium. Contains trans fat. Linda Lovelace would probably not approve of its deepness. Spray on tans that make you look orange. The Chicago Cubs’ futility.

Here are a few product reviews posted this week from other blogs we like.

Sorry, no Japanese KitKat review this week, but how about a Japanese McDonald’s pork sandwich or a Japanese sex drink review. (via Brand Eating and Possessed by Caffeine)

Digiorno has 200 calorie portion pizzas. Each box has two portions, so it’s really a 400 calorie portion. (via Food In Real Life)

Did you forget to give your significant other something for Valentine’s Day? Well, these Vanilla Creme Heart Peeps won’t help your sorry ass. (via Gigi Reviews)

If I eat the mushroom-shaped Wonka Sour Puckerrooms Gummies, who will be in my hallucination? Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp. (via ZOMG, Candy!)