Our not-so-official, completely unscientific Domino's Taste Test

I gave Domino’s new pizza a shot.  Who am I to critique their new marketing campaign when I haven’t even tried the product?  I’d like to say it’s because I value credibility and fairness, but between you and me (and the Internets), the two medium two-topping pizzas for $5.99 + money-back guarantee was really the catalyst.

My friend Vikram from Twenty Dollars (who also wrote about the new pizza) and I ordered up a pepperoni/jalepeno and sausage/mushroom.  Toppings aside, my main focus was on the three big Domino’s changes: (1) garlic-seasoned crust, (2) sweeter, bolder tomato sauce, and (3) “It’s cheese!”

I’ll give them props on the crust, which is markedly chewier and has a slight sprinkle of garlic salt.  But let the pizza cool for 30 minutes and you’ll have the same “tastes like cardboard” issue as before.  This is true across the board with such chains like Pizza Hut, Round Table and the like, so I won’t single out Domino’s.  But it certainly makes me appreciate the ingeniousness of Papa John’s garlic butter, the perfect “make you forget you’re eating cardboard” dipping sauce that comes with every pizza.

The tomato sauce gets a solid “meh.”  I don’t remember what it tasted like before, and you can’t really taste the sauce over the MSG-like flavors of the toppings anyway.  It’s a shame, because it’s one of the few toppings on Domino’s pizza that doesn’t contain a ridiculous amount of chemicals in it.  According to the ingredients list, the tomato sauce contains water, tomato paste, tomato extract blend, salt, sugar, spices and herbs, garlic powder and citric acid (a preservative).

Compare that to the sausage, which has corn syrup solids (ew), disodium inosinate and disodium guanylate, and the pepperoni, which contains lactic acid starter culture and something curiously called an “oleoresin of paprika.”  As my boyfriend so bluntly puts it, “Domino’s sausage tastes like barf.”  Thanks honey, I just ate half of that pizza.

“It’s cheese!” falls flat on many accounts.  I suppose my expectations were a bit high — the pizza was $5.99 after all — but I thought Domino’s could do much better after pushing it so hard in the commercials.  First of all, it’s still not cheese.  Provolone-flavored mozzarella, no matter how you cut it, is not cheese.  In fact, Domino’s cheese contains modified food starch, cellulose, sodium citrate and propionate, and “flavors,” among many other non-cheese items.

Secondly, the Domino’s commercial teased us with pictures of gooey melted cheese, stretching seductively apart as a slice was picked up from the freshly baked pizza pie.  See this pic?  That is not seductive in the slightest.  That, my food porn-loving friends, is flaccid.  A limp, saggy, droopy old balls excuse for cheese.

*Shrug*

We demolished both pizzas with all the vigor of drunk college students.  Our bodies know the drill: when you’re hungry, you’re hungry.  And Domino’s can fulfill that need in 30 minutes.  And because Domino’s prides itself on customer service, the new pizzas come with a full money-back guarantee.

“So you’re saying that I can eat this whole pizza, then call up Domino’s and demand my money back?” my friend Wes asked.

Well, yes.  The theory of American customer service is that yes, Domino’s can make a bold money-back guarantee on national television, and yes, you can drive to Domino’s and say, “goshdarnit that was a completely unsatisfactory dining experience,” and yes, Domino’s will refund your money.  But the reality is that if you’re ordering $5.99 Domino’s pizzas for delivery, you probably aren’t going to get your lazy ass off the couch anyway.

And that right there is the essence of Domino’s: stuffing your face for the least of amount of money as possible with the least amount of effort as possible… in 30 minutes or less!