You know that expression: “You can please some of the people some of the time, all of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time, but you can never please all of the people all of the time?” Well, Kashi should just stop making pizzas, because they are pleasing none of the people none of the time. Seriously, I really wanted to like this pizza. I’m normally a fan of everything Kashi – their frozen meals, crackers, granola bars, cereals, etcetera, etcetera. But in the past I have been let down by Kashi pizzas. Yet, I decided to give them one more chance to make amends when I saw the new delicious-sounding “Caribbean Carnival” Kashi pizza.
Spoiler alert: While I expected Kashi’s “Caribbean Carnival” pizza to invoke delightful imagery like friendly anthropomorphic parrots and jovial dark-skinned men wearing brightly colored beads in their hair; this pizza was neither “Caribbean” nor a carnival in my mouth. (Discuss!) Being a healthful eater, I normally resent when others disparage health food as tasting like cardboard – however, tasting like wonderful, delicious cardboard would probably be a lofty goal for this pizza.
Its promise of plantains, kale, fire-roasted red onions, mangoes and a “sweet and spicy Guava-infused jerk seasoned sauce” yielded a smattering of toppings lumped all in one corner of the pizza, which I meticulously picked apart and spread about before putting the pizza in the oven. Below all of that was some of the nastiest pizza crust known to mankind. I would like to know what think tank thought it would be a good idea to make a pizza crust out of ingredients like buckwheat and brown rice. Poor Antonio Pizzarelli, the inventor of the pizza pie*, would be spinning in his grave if he only knew. Normally the crust is one of my favorite parts of the pizza, and I couldn’t even get it down. Even the dog gave me the stinkface when I tried to pass it off, as if to say, “I’ll eat this because it’s technically contraband people food; but only begrudgingly so.”

The “toppings” provided little relief to the gritty taste bud-assault that was the crust. The pizza was covered mostly in kale and diced tomatoes, and I think I saw a few specs of yellow that was supposed to be mango. The best part of the pizza was undoubtedly the plantains — as I have expressed my enthusiasm for Kashi products featuring plantains in the past. But unfortunately the pizza only contained four slices of plantains and two bits of something that were probably the bodily remains of brave, fallen plantains who likely fought to the death against being put on this terrible pizza. And as for this alleged sweet and spicy Guava-infused jerk sauce…Well, I did detect some kind of flavor between the cheese and the crust, but I don’t think it tasted so much like jerk sauce as it did like “a funk.”
What separates Kashi’s Caribbean Carnival Pizza from your garden variety “fail” to an “epic fail,” is that it’s not even particularly healthy. One pizza, which is a reasonable-sized meal for most people, clocks in at over 800 whopping calories. You could probably eat two slices of real pizza for that and not feel let down like a kid who gets socks for Christmas.
* Look it up!
(Nutrition Facts – 1/3 pizza (120 grams) – 280 calories, 8 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 590 milligrams of sodium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, 14 grams of protein and 10% iron.)
(NOTE: Here’s another take on this pizza.)
Item: Kashi Caribbean Carnival Pizza
Price: $6.99 [sale price, reg. $7.99]
Size: 12.7 ounces
Purchased at: Shop Rite
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: The bites with plantain on them were almost not terrible. Pleasing all of the people all of the time. Friendly anthropomorphic parrots.
Cons: Pizza crust tasted like puppies crying. No mango. Not enough plantains. Eating this instead of real pizza. Horrible taste plus not great nutritional value plus outlandish price like getting raped in three orifices. Getting socks for Christmas.

If you don’t skip past the commercials in your DVR recordings, you probably know DiGiorno’s (or if you’re Canadian, Delissio’s) slogan is, “It’s not delivery. It’s DiGiorno.”
I’ve had many DiGiorno frozen pizzas over the years and pizza from either Pizza Hut, Domino’s, Papa John’s and I’ll just throw in Little Caesars for the hell of it, and I’m pretty sure no one will confuse a DiGiorno pizza with one of those other restaurant pizzas. I’m sure with one look, most people can easily tell the difference.
Besides, why would they want to be confused with a delivery pizza because there are way too many negative connotations with being a delivery pizza.
For example, delivered pizzas have a tendency to be greasier than a Wall Street financial analyst and can provide enough oil to power a biofuel car. Do they really want stigma of being confused with delivery pizza and all the porn references that go along with it? Those references involve pizza being delivered by a strapping young lad to a house that contains either a sexy cougar, teen babysitter, sorority girls, horny housewife or, in certain European countries, sheep.
Not even the new DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza could be confused with a pizza delivered by someone with an insulated pizza case.

This flatbread pizza is made with grilled white meat chicken, spinach, oven-roasted tomatoes, garlic and a creamy red sauce. It smells nice, but the pizza is 11 inches in diameter, which is kind of small. The flatbread turned out crispy, but thankfully not like a cracker. Its flavor is bland and it tastes like diet Cheez-Its, which is surprising because I’ve enjoyed all of the DiGiorno pizzas I’ve tried in the past. Also, it seems like there isn’t much sauce on the pizza. I guess the saying “pizza is like sex, because it’s never bad” isn’t true because eating this pizza is like having drunk sex with a sheep — you thought it would be fun at the time, but later you’ll regret it.
If that’s not considered bad, I don’t know what is.
The only positive item I found with the DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza wasn’t the pizza itself, but the plastic wrapping around it, which is extremely easy to open. Just grab the tab and pull it apart. The folks who work on the plastic packaging at DiGiorno really need to focus their attention on women’s bras.
(Nutrition Facts – 1/3 pizza – 14 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 1 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 680 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 14 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 25% calcium and 6% iron.)
(Note: Here’s a user submitted review of the DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza on Freezer Burns.)
Item: DiGiorno Tuscan Style Chicken Crispy Flatbread Pizza
Price: $6.49 (on sale)
Size: 14 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Plastic wrapping is super easy to open. Flatbread was crispy. Pizza porn. DVRs. Being able to skip through commercials.
Cons: Bland tasting. It’s like a diet Cheez-Its. At 11 inches, it doesn’t seem too big. European sheep pizza porn. Unhooking bras in the dark. Drunk sheep sex.

I’m no party planning expert, but I do know a fancy toothpick though a Vienna sausage does not make it a classy hors d’oeuvre you can serve your hoity-toity friends. The bite-sized Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings may have the light, elegant croissant exterior that would appeal to your pretentious pals, but when stuffed with pepperoni, mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce the flaky crust instantly becomes this product’s fancy toothpick. Actually, I don’t think any flavor that you can also find in a Hot Pocket can be stuffed into a croissant without causing a French pastry chef somewhere to weep in disgust.
The outside of each Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings was flakier than a crack addict responsible for turning in the rent check. It was delicious and its taste reminded Totino’s pepperoni party pizzas, which after some research shouldn’t have been surprising since Totino’s is a Pillsbury product. I also found out during my investigation that Totino’s also has cheap pepperoni Pizza Rolls, which probably tastes like these Savorings. So basically this product tries to be sophisticated, but despite the flaky pastry exterior it’s just a simple pizza roll. It’s just like the contestants on Rock of Love: Charm School; as hard as they try to be refined, deep down they’re still strippers and whores.

The only characteristic that makes the Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings seem fancy it its price, which is much more than its lowbrow cousin, Totino’s Pizza Rolls. With a high price tag, it was even more disappointing that the box contained only 12 measly pieces. Not only are these Savorings pricey, they’re also a pain in the ass to make because, according to the box, they can’t be microwaved. Instead I was forced to kick it old school by doing some preheating and baking them in an oven or toaster oven for 17-22 minutes. I would understand doing this for a meal, but not for a snack.
The Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings may be small, but they’re big in saturated fat and sodium. Eat four of them and you’ll get 35 percent of your daily recommended allowance of saturated fat and 20 percent of your daily recommended allowance of sodium, which is somewhat salty, but not as salty as your hoity-toity friends.
(Nutrition Facts – 4 pastry bites – 250 calories, 16 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 450 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 6 grams of protein, 10% Vitamin A, 4% Calcium, and 8% Iron.)
(Editor’s Note: Thanks to TIB reader tobikiriakujin for suggesting the Pillsbury Savorings via Twitter. Speaking of Twitter, if you have a Twitter account, you can follow me here. Also, here’s a link to a review of the Buffalo Style Chicken version.)
Item: Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings
Price: $4.99 (on sale)
Size: 12 count
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Delicious. Nice crunchy, flaky exterior. Reminds me of Totino’s Pepperoni Pizza. A product of Canada and not China.
Cons: Damn expensive. Can’t microwave. Number of pieces seem low for something so expensive. For something so small, it’s high in saturated fat. Flaky crumbs. Giving the rent check with your crack addict roommate. Your hoity-toity friends. Making French pastry chefs cry.

Pizza is a food that is typically shared, whether it be with your family while watching Brink reruns on the Disney Channel or with your friends watching Billy Madison after vaporizing a half pound of weed. It’s cheap, filling, and one of the few foods that you have to eat with your hands in order to not look like a douchebag. The folks at the Kraft Foods company, however, have turned eating pizza into a more fanciful singles affair.
They recently launched their “For One” pizzas for their DiGiorno and California Pizza Kitchen lines, individual-sized pies made for your hectic lifestyle. According to their PR release, “consumers now have a reason to look forward to eating alone.”
Seriously − what the fuck? Now, I don’t really think that the people at CPK want to turn Americans into a group of misanthropic zombies eating alone in a giant auditorium like some strange existentialist painting from soviet Russia, but you have to admit that it sounds a bit creepy.
I was thinking that if this pizza is good enough to make me not want to eat with my loved ones, it must taste like some divine combination of ambrosia and the first fifteen seconds of Fruit Stripe gum. The box certainly looks promising − with interesting ingredients such as fontina cheese and spicy ham. At a mere 5.5 ounces, however, I was worried that it would be the pizza equivalent of a cock-tease.
My fears were alleviated upon consumption. While it is on the small side, it is adequate for a substantial lunch if you have a side salad to go along with it. The crust is super thin and crispy, perfect for piling on the meat toppings that actually taste like quality Italian sausages. It shouldn’t be surprising that a meat product actually tastes like it’s supposed to, but my mind has been ruined by 19 years of emulsified chicken. The Italian herb and cheese seasoning is a tad bit strong, but separates the flavor from other boring pizzas.
The box says it’s microwaveable, but believe me: no pizza, no matter how many gray discs and grid-lined cartons they cram in the package, is anything other than crap from the microwave. Stick with a toaster oven and your patience will be rewarded.
At $3.29, it is a bit on the pricey side, but it is a nice treat for yourself after all of those years stocking up on Celeste and Jeno’s every time they go on sale for $.89. You know what I’m talking about. So if you enjoy a quality frozen pizza, go ahead and give this a try and look forward to eating alone for the rest of your life!
(Nutritional Facts – 1 pizza – 450 calories, 200 calories from fat, 22 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 35 mg of cholesterol, 820mg sodium, 42 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 21 grams of protein, 10% Vitamin A, 0% Vitamin C, 30% Calcium, and 8% Iron)
Item: California Pizza Kitchen For One Sicilian Pizza
Price: FREE (retails for $3.29)
Purchased at: From the nice CPK PR peeps
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Good quality meats compared to what you usually get in frozen pizzas. Thin crust is very crispy. Comes out perfectly after a few minutes in the toaster oven. You get to look forward to eating alone.
Cons: Pretty small, even for an individual pizza. Herb seasoning is a bit strong. Pricey for a frozen pizza. No pizza is ever microwaveable. Reruns of movies such as Brink and Smart House on the Disney Channel.

Phew. Thank goodness it’s over.
We decided to lift the self-imposed ban on food reviews here at the Impulsive Buy, because we would like to get rid of all these empty boxes and bottles of food products that we couldn’t review because of the stupid ban.
So that means food reviews up the wazoo for the next few weeks.
Also, sorry about yesterday’s “review.” We know it really wasn’t a “review.” We just wanted to be political like many other blogs, so we pretended to be interested in politics, like Ben Affleck does.
We know. We know. If all the other blogs jumped into a volcano, would we jump into the volcano too?
No we wouldn’t.
So we’re back to real reviews and the subject of today’s review was requested by Impulsive Buy groupie worshipper follower, Alisa.
She asked if we, in her own words, “review geniuses” could review the new DiGiorno Microwave Rising Crust Pizza. After consulting with each other to determine if she did an adequate amount of sucking up, we decided to go though with the review and picked up the Three Meat Pizza version.
Just to let you know, microwave foods aren’t our best friends. From the exploding TV dinners to burnt microwave popcorn, we haven’t been successful whenever using the microwave. Oh, and let’s not forget the microwave pork grinds. Man, that smell lingered for days.
Although, we have to admit we’ve had some recent successes, like this one, but 99 percent of the time we screw up somehow.
Included with the DiGiorno Microwave Rising Crust Pizza was a…Um…Crisping contraption, which we think is a black paint job and a few spikes away from being a S&M collar, but that might only be us.
After putting the pizza in the crisping contraption, we put all of that into the microwave and baked it for the recommended six minutes on HIGH. We wanted to watch it to see if the crust would rise, but we remembered what our moms said growing up, “If you stare into the microwave, your palms will grow hair.”
Or was that something else.
Anyway, we let the pizza sit for the few minutes after it was done baking. After tasting it, we have to say that this is the best microwave pizza we ever had that we didn’t screw up. It was like we baked it in a conventional oven and didn’t screw up.
The only major problem we had with it was the price. Spending $4.29 for a seven-inch pizza (don’t ask how we measured it) seemed a bit expensive. If they were on sale or cheaper, we would definitely buy them more often.
We wonder if Alisa will reimburse us.
Item: DiGiorno Microwave Rising Crust Pizza: Three Meat Pizza
Purchase Price: $4.29
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Crisping contraption worked well. Oven baked taste. No, really, it had an oven baked taste. We didn’t cause it to burn, melt, or explode.
Cons: Outer crust was kind of hard. Expensive.
Written by Stacey | February 17, 2010
Topics: 2 Rating, Kashi, Pizza