Posts Tagged ‘mozzarella’

Bride of Wonderboy; Simply Disgust-a-licous!

      The trouble with eating Italian food is that five or six days later you’re hungry again.  ~George Miller

So, what would you name a pizza with a crust stuffed with hot dogs and mustard, then slather mac and cheese all over as a sauce, then add cheddar, mozzarella, provolone, beef, bacon, onion, tomato, dill pickles, french fries and ketchup. I found that “Bride of Wonderboy” fit the bill nicely. The original “Wonderboy” just got a little old without the mac and cheese sauce. (I must give credit to Mark Mizer, the President of RDP Foodservice for first turning me on to a mac and cheese sauce.)

 When I first pulled a prototype of this monster pizza out of my oven, it smelled like every fast food joint I’ve ever been to. I smiled and said to my General Manager “This is disgustingly…attractive, but I don’t think anyone is sick enough to order this.”   I was wrong; not just a little wrong. I was as wrong as  Napoleon at Waterloo, or Davey Crockett at the Alamo, or anyone who thought Beta Max tapes were the wave of the future.                          


So, It’s been almost 2 years now since the first culinary abomination appeared at my store. My General Manager, Joel Fair has become the Bride of Wonderboy expert, (especially after midnight-where a lot of the Wonderboy volume occurs.)


                                     Corey, Elliott and Levi tried to devour the Bride here. Who do you think won?

It was with this in mind that we hosted a small Bride of Wonderboy eating contest with three employees to gauge what time anyone could eat this monster in. Elliot, Levi and Cory really slammed a lot of food but only one was victorious.


Do you trust this man to disgust you and your family properly with a four pound pizza? Joel Fair is the master of the ‘Bride.’


 Here is the Video:                                  

Anyone squeemish about people eating massive amounts of nitrates, cheese, corporate meats and potatoes should NOT watch this video.
Levi Meyer won at a World Record time of 59 minutes and 47 seconds, (No kidding…Oh yea, you think you can do better? We’ll supply the bucket.) Levi will now get his picture on our wall of Wonderboy for all his efforts.

The World Pizza Championships, Italy

Long ago, conquering Roman generals would arrive home in a golden chariot after battling the Visagoths or Lilliputians or Sythians. This triumphant parade included all the booty aquired from these vanquished enemies including gold, silver, slaves and pizza. Also riding on this chariot with the victorious general were two slaves, one to steer and one, to hold a golden crown and whisper in the general’s ear: “All glory is fleeting.” “All glory is fleeting.”

As I got on the flight from Milan to New York after the World Pizza Championships, I had a vision of that same slave whispering in my ear.  “Bruno’s pizza was better, you lost, he won.” “Bruno beat you, your pizza sucked, you lost…”

The Goon’s “Pizza Metro al Gilda,” with marinated fresh anchovy, Parmesano Reggiano, fresh buffalo mozzarella, cherry tomato, Amalfi Coast asparagus and crushed roasted almonds. A Fabulolus pizza but not a winner.

Yes, my supposed friend, Bruno di Fabio, won “Best pizza in the U.S.A.” for the second time in 2 years. This title is bestowed upon the highest score entered for the Pizza Classico segment of the contest. I must admit that my pizza Classico was terrible compared to his. (I made a fatal error the morning before the contest by re-balling my dough, thinking I had enough time for the dough to bounce back to workable form. I was wrong.)  Bruno cooked his pizza early on and had momentum on his side. His dough was popping at the perfect time, which made pizza spectacular.

Bruno finishing his Pizza Teglio or pan pizza, with spicy salami, Cherignola olives, crushed tomato, Grande cheese and fresh Burrata cheese, then basking in the glow of European television.

Tony Gemignani’s pizza classico was also really rockin’ as well, as were all the other Americans on our team.

Now, I could never be described as a sore loser, (My massive amount of experience at losing has elevated my loser’s persona to doctoral heights.) I gotta tell you that it just hurts. You travel with a guy for a whole week, give him help, advice, prop up his ego constantly, answer his stupid questions about food and life, and what do you get?  Beaten by him. Never again Bruno, I’m never gonna do dough late into the night with you like some zombie-baker. Never again am I going to be your fall guy and sneak into snobby Italian hotel kitchens to saute your stinkin’ garlic at 4 a.m. or take those freakin’ seeds out of your San Marzano tomatoes. I’m never gonna cut your fresh mozzarella into cubes again, or grate your Parmesan into little paper-thin curlies the way you like it . It’s over Holmes. Next time YOU are gonna be the slave whispering in my ear.

O.K., enough about me and that backstabbing friend of mine. This morning, I cut my finger really bad, slicing through napa cabbage with my 1920’s era high-carbon steel Dexter. I am lucky to even have that digit. So, I can’t type well and do not have the time mess around with more stories.

Here are some pictures from the championship. They really do speak louder than words. I will have some great video of acrobatics as soon as I can figure out how to edit from my new video camera.

Pizza on Earth! (I stole that from Pizza Therapy)