REVIEW: Little Caesars Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers

Little Caesars Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers

It’s baaaaack!

Like Pennywise the Clown in Stephen King’s “It” or the McDonald’s McRib (which one is truly scarier?), Little Caesar Soft Pretzel Crust Pizza made a big scene last year before stealthily going into hibernation shortly after. But now it’s back. And unlike the periodic resurrections of King’s killer clown and McD’s mysterious meat, the cult-favorite pizza’s return is much more “glory” than it is “gory.”

But it didn’t come alone. Looking like the illegitimate child from a Pretzel Crust Pizza/Crazy Bread love affair, Lil C’s also debuted their new Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers, which come with a cute little tub of “Aged Cheddar Cheese” (oh jeez, I just described a cheese tub as cute; are you proud of me now, Mom?).

Little Caesars Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers 2

I opened my bag and marveled at the doughy chaos within. Unlike the neat rows of Crazy Bread, the 16 or so Dippers are unceremoniously dumped into a pile. They say the pretzel was invented by a monk who shaped dough into the shape of children’s crossed arms during prayer. If that’s true, then he must have shaped these after Sister Agnes was finished “disciplining” the children’s arms with a yardstick.

Other than that, they do look like Crazy Bread, just firmer, browner, and dotted with translucent salt granules rather than parmesan. And the buttery-ness of my pretzels made the bag as translucent as the salt: even before opening it, the Dippers were tunneling through the paper like Andy Dufresne behind a poster of Rita Hayworth.

Little Caesars Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers 3

Evaluating these Dippers is tricky, because their quality is very much dependent on their temperature. Eaten hot, the experience is largely pleasant. The rich, golden-baked pretzel shell has enough structural integrity to resist tearing (it’s denser than the pizza’s pretzel crust), but the uneven butter coating makes it lighter, softer, and more oily-tasting in select clusters. Biting through gives way to the same fluffy, aerated center in Crazy Bread.

It’s a recognizable “pretzel flavor” that is reminiscent of those microwaveable Super Pretzels, just with a more hearty chew. This is because the thin Dippers have a “crust to bread” ratio that highly favors the former.

Unfortunately, the haphazard salt sprinkling dampens the experience, as some bites are purely bland butter-dough, while others are overwhelmingly salty enough that’ll you’ll be channeling your inner George Costanza: “These pretzels are making me thirsty!” The few bites that are well balanced, though, make me smile contently and whisper, “That’ll do, Dipper. That’ll do.”

Little Caesars Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers 4

And the cheese. Oh, the cheese. The only thing aged about this cheddar is how it tastes like the orange goo on boardwalk nachos that a carny left out too long. Overwhelmingly oily and slightly too coagulated, it takes away from the pretzel goodness by plastering a tangy, slightly zippy taste in the back of your mouth.

But that’s when it’s all hot. If left too long (and it reached this point even after my short ride home from Little Caesars), room temperature or cold Dippers turn into insanely chewy lengths of flavorless rope as the salt begins to fall off. Biting into any remaining salt clusters tastes like you’re munching on a pirate’s doormat. And room temperature cheese? Like a repulsive cube of Cheez Whiz someone tried passing off as post-modern art.

Little Caesars’ new Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers are certainly an enjoyable alternative pizza side dish, but only under two stipulations: eat them immediately (or keep a microwave on hand), and send the cheese dip directly to Hell, where it belongs the trash.

(Nutrition Facts – Not available.)

Item: Little Caesars Cheese-N-Pretzel Dippers
Purchased Price: $3.49
Size: 16 pieces
Purchased at: Little Caesars
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Dippers)
Rating: 2 out of 10 (Cheese)
Pros: Authentic pretzel taste when salt and butter are balanced. Charming patchwork of crispy and light sections. Adorable cheese receptacles. Seinfeld reruns.
Cons: Rare balanced sections. Temperature-based devolution into cardboard. Semisolid satanic cheese. Sister Agnes’ painful wrath.

REVIEW: Little Caesars Bacon Wrapped Crust DEEP! DEEP! Dish Pizza

Little Caesars Bacon Wrapped Crust DEEP! DEEP! Dish Pizza

That mascot dude can only say one word, right? All these years and Little Caesars just propped this guy up—handicap and all—and let him be the clown prince face of the company.

“Pizza! Pizza!”

Translation: “Please pick up my kids after school. I have to work late tonight.”

“Pizza! Pizza!”

Translation: “Please. I don’t want any more pizza.”

Well, say hello hello to the new Bacon Wrapped Crust Deep! Deep! Dish Pizza. And judging from the amount of pork on this thing, they taught Caesar to say another word. “Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!” That’s eight times, said by four Little Caesar guys, which is enough fellas to be pallbearers at my funeral after I die from bacon-itis (a.k.a. heart disease).

Little Caesars Bacon Wrapped Crust DEEP! DEEP! Dish Pizza Corner

The pizza is a “Detroit style” deep dish with bacon wrapped around the corners and with bacon bits sprinkled on top. I’m not completely sure what Detroit style deep dish is, but if this is any representation, it originated from a Detroit elementary school lunch program.

It’s crazy (like their bread!) that a pizza can be so greasy yet so dry and bready in the middle. But we’re here for the bacon. And the bacon presents a dichotomy. At first bite, the bacon on the crust is not as salty as expected, thus less tasty. It is fairly crispy and adds a slight textural curveball, although it overshadows the existing deep dish crust instead of amplifying it. A few slices in, however, it’s better that the saltiness is turned down a bit as pizza eating is a marathon and not a sprint. It’s so much of a marathon, in fact, that they’re adding it to the Olympics. But the Winter Olympics. Cross country ski a while, shoot a rifle, and then scarf down a personal pan pizza.

Little Caesars Bacon Wrapped Crust DEEP! DEEP! Dish Pizza Top

The bacon bits are similarly bland-ish and while the bacon that lines the crust adds a small amount of smoky flavor, the bits just add grease and a tiny bit of sweetness. To be fair, I’ve seen pictures of other people’s orders and it seems like they spilled way more on my pizza and decided I look like some sort of pork beast that wouldn’t mind. They half-pegged me. I am a pork beast, but I did mind a little bit. The pepperoni did its job fine but frankly it was out-smoked by its meat cousin. A different ingredient could have expanded the flavor dynamics a bit more. This pork beast disapproves.

The difference between this one and the regular non-bacon deep dish pizza is four bucks. You’re probably better off frying some up and placing it on top of the pie yourself for that price. I don’t think the bacon they use is great quality and the promise of a bacon wrapped crust does not enhance the flavors any more than just eating some bacon alongside some cheap pizza. That’s where we’re at, people. I just wrote “a bacon wrapped crust does not enhance…” You bastards. You broke bacon.

The aforementioned elementary school quality does tick off some sort of nostalgia box, though. The spongy dough punctuated with a greasy slick finish of lubricated cheese. Takes me back to pogs, algebra, and reading out loud in class.

Oh, gorsh. Imagine Little Caesar reading out loud in class.

“Kids, turn to page 67 of Animal Farm. Caesar, can you read for us?”

“Pizza! Pizza! Pizza… Pizza? Pizza. Pizza.”

“You can tell Orwell is paralleling the Bolshevik Revolution because of the tone in which Caesar said ‘pizza.’”

Welp, that mascot dude found a job and made a decent living after all. I hope he gets to date Wendy from Wendy’s (the older one, not the little kid). God bless America, America.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 slice – 450 calories, 23 grams of fat, 40 milligrams of cholesterol, and 830 milligrams of sodium.)

Item: Little Caesars Bacon Wrapped Crust DEEP! DEEP! Dish Pizza
Purchased Price: $12
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Little Caesars
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Smoky flavor from bacon comes through a bit. Not prohibitively salty. Comforting as bready pizza.
Cons: Greasy. Bready ass crust. Bacon on pizza is just that, nothing more.

REVIEW: Little Caesars Soft Pretzel Crust Pepperoni Pizza

Little Caesars Soft Pretzel Crust Pepperoni Pizza

Little Caesars’ Soft Pretzel Crust Pepperoni Pizza is a pepperoni pizza with a soft pretzel crust. It’s that simple.

The meeting at Little Caesars for this pizza had one visual aid. It was a photo of a soft pretzel and a plus sign and then a photo of a pepperoni pizza and then an equals sign, and then a soft pretzel pizza.

Q: “But, Marshall, do you think we need to somehow optimize the flavors to each other?”

A: “Larry, do you or do you not want to go eat lunch?”

The meeting was six minutes long and they definitely did not eat Little Caesars for their meal.

Eating a slice of this pizza is like rummaging through boardwalk garbage. It’s a straight up soft pretzel stretched out into pizza form and had pepperoni and cheese put on it. It’s what the pawn seagulls probably bring to the queen seagull. Pretty sure Templeton from Charlotte’s Web has a slice of one of these things during his smorgasbord. I wouldn’t describe the pizza as “terrific” and probably not “humble,” but it absolutely had “some pig” in it.

Little Caesars Soft Pretzel Crust Pepperoni Pizza Crust Closeup

Yo, Little Caesars, have you ever tried your own Hot-N-Ready pizzas? Thems salty. So what did you do? You added a pretzel bread, which is saltier, and then on top of that you sprinkled that rock salt that clears New England sidewalks in the winter.

After the first few bites, I had a salt wince duck face like it was selfie time. The pepperoni was not bad. But in the context of the entire pie, it was a little much having meat discs of sodium to surf on the waves of high blood pressure. Quiz: “I’m really looking forward to more Salt.” Is that a quote from me eating this pizza or Kurt Wimmer, writer of the Angelina Jolie film Salt? Find the answer hidden in this review somewhere! (It’s Kurt Wimmer)

Of course, our taste buds adapt to change, but it was disconcerting when a couple slices in I started to get used to it. Could I ever eat anything without salt again? What if this was my new normal? I looked up from my thoughts and realized I had eaten the entire pie.

I spent weeks wandering the street as a salt junkie until I went through the twelve step salt program. I’m now a salt-free, productive member of society but every once in a while when I’m at a mid-low caliber restaurant, the shaker with the white rocks calls my name. I ignore her pleas but she knows one day I’ll crumble. She knows.

Moreover, Lil’ Caesar, I like the way you run your store. I was in and out in about four minutes and there were two people in front of me in line. Handed over payment and received my product. Someone get the guy who thought that system up to help out with hospital emergency room triage. In and out. In and out. Easy. Everybody leaving the ER has a slice of pizza in their hand. Beautiful.

Since LiCa did such a good job with replicating a pretzel for the bread, there are a couple things to consider here. First is the texture. The soft pretzel bread was very similar to what we all know as soft pretzel bread, but the question is: Do we want that chewy, chewy texture for pizza? The answer for me is that it’s fine, but ultimately I like a crispy exterior and a chewy interior. It works for the novelty, but I don’t want it for my every day pizza.

Little Caesars Soft Pretzel Crust Pepperoni Pizza Slice

Second is the cheese. There is some “real” cheese sprinkled on top but I noticed a cheddar cheese sauce that is also present, more the consistency of a thick nacho cheese. This was a cheese that tasted and felt like a dipping sauce that you might stick a soft pretzel into. It had a bit of zest and all the smoothness of Cheez Wiz. Again, fine for the novelty, but the more I think about it, it’s kind of gross. Like kissing!

It’s all a bit of an unbalanced affair and I’m not sure my hypertension can take another one, but the Soft Pretzel Crust Pizza is an interesting novelty, and a cheap one at that. If you’re ever pressed for time like those executives who thought up this pizza, and you really, really need to eat a soft pretzel and a pizza at once, the Little C got your back. Pizza pizza? Salty salty.

(Disclosure: We received a $10 Little Caesars gift card from Little Caesars to purchase the pizza.)

(Nutrition Facts – 1/8 of a pizza – 270 calories, 11 grams fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams trans fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 570 milligrams of sodium, 31 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 11 grams of protein.)

Item: Little Caesars Soft Pretzel Crust Pepperoni Pizza
Purchased Price: $5.99
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Little Caesars
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Fun to eat two food items at once. Cheap.
Cons: Extremely salty. Texture of bread is not pizza bread

Scroll to Top