REVIEW: Ragu Supreme Pizza

When I first stumbled upon the new Ragu Frozen Pizza at a local grocery store, my first thought was, “Oh, now why is this a thing?” A random couple standing nearby echoed my confusion. The guy said, “Honey, look— Ragu frozen pizza.” To which the lady replied, “Um, nasty. No.”

And, like, I get it. Though the idea of the world’s most popular (or second most popular? I don’t know how Ragu stacks up against Prego, sales-wise) jarred spaghetti sauce putting its pizza sauce on a frozen pizza shouldn’t be repulsive, it is a little — pardon the pun — jarring. But the thing is, this is actually a Palermo’s pizza product.

If you’re not familiar with Palermo’s Pizza, well, actually you are, I promise. You’ve probably seen — if not eaten — either a Screamin’ Sicilian, a Connie’s, an Urban Pie, a Surfer Boy (lo of the Stranger Things tie-in), or, god forbid, the recently released Cheez-It Pizza. I’ve had and enjoyed many Screamin’ Sicilian pizzas (they used to have some great specialty ones), and a couple of the Urban Pies and the Surfer Boy pies generally receive pretty favorable reviews. The point is there’s a decent track record.

But, so, what does the Ragu bring to the table in this engagement? Is whatever it adds any better (or worse) than standard frozen pizza sauce?

The new Ragu Pizzas come in four flavors — Cheese, Combination (Italian sausage and pepperoni), Pepperoni, and Supreme (Italian sausage, pepperoni, green, yellow and red peppers, onion, and black olives) — and all are served on “a flaky, pizzeria-style crust.” Weirdly enough, they make sure to call out that all use a “Ragu-inspired” sauce, and not just, you know, Ragu. Interesting distinction! For this review, I tried the Supreme.

This was one of the most boring, uninspired frozen pizzas I’ve ever had. It wasn’t bad; it wasn’t good. It was utterly unforgettable. The crust was bland, of medium thickness, and devoid of any real flavor. The cheese was the same. The toppings were standard, mid-tier frozen pizza fare; I didn’t notice any punch from the onions or peppers — they were mostly just mushy. The pepperoni and sausage chunks were salty and chewy. I think the whole thing had, like, five black olives on it. Ho-hum. But what about the star of the show, the Ragu-inspired sauce? It was… there. It tasted red. It was a little sweet, I guess, but not oppressively so. It was, in a word, generic.

And really, that’s the tale of this pie: the most generic-tasting frozen pizza I’ve had in quite some time. I wouldn’t buy one again; with 8,000 frozen pizza alternatives available — some of which are actually good — there’s no point in this one existing. Sorry, Palermo’s. Better luck next time. (PS. How about “next time” means bringing back the Screamin’ Sicilian that had jalapeños and bacon and chicken with a ranch sauce? That thing was worth buying.)

Purchased Price: $5.99
Size: 23.15 oz
Purchased at: Hy-Vee
Rating: 4 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1/5th pizza) 320 calories, 16 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 680 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 12 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Totino’s Pizza Ramen Noodles

I am no stranger to a good food mashup. After all, who doesn’t love a taco pizza or a pizza burger or any number of other things crossed with, topped with, or covering a pizza? But I’m just going to come right out and say it: Totino’s Buffalo Style Chicken Pizza Ramen Noodles is not a good food mashup, and I kind of wish I was a stranger to it.

I eat a good bit of instant ramen. I also eat a decent amount of frozen pizza, often of the buffalo chicken variety. So when I saw that Totino’s was coming out with a buffalo chicken pizza ramen, it’s fair to say my little heart skipped a beat. I wish I had better news to report.

Unfortunately, I don’t really think this counts as “ramen” per se. The noodles are shorter, thinner, and wider than any other instant ramen I’ve tasted. They were more reminiscent of one of the instant pasta varieties that come in a similar cup, like the ones made by Knorr or Pasta Roni. I might even go as far as to compare them to Kraft Easy Mac before I jump to calling this ramen.

The noodles aren’t the only thing keeping me from pinning a Ramen ribbon to this orangey-red concoction. The sauce (and yes, it’s sauce. This is NOT broth by any stretch) is thick and a little oily, with a vinegary aftertaste courtesy of the hot sauce flavoring. If you decide to try this for yourself, learn from my mistakes and stir it really, really well before microwaving. I stirred it initially as the instructions told me, but I wasn’t as thorough as I perhaps should have been. As a result, I had a thick, sticky paste-like substance at the bottom of my cup that required a lot of extra stirring to dissolve fully into the not-broth mixture. To be fair, I had been expecting a more “traditional” ramen-style outcome and not a thicker, saucier, sludge-type thing.

Upon peeling back the lid, the hot sauce scent is overpowering. It’s not quite nostril-stinging, but it’s closer than I’d like. It smells spicy but doesn’t taste that spicy, making it doubly disappointing. It’s not as fiery as Totino’s Faze Clan Pizza Rolls (or the older Totino’s proper variety) of the same flavor, which I do happen to enjoy. I think maybe the hot sauce mixed directly in with the cheese cancels out the heat, leaving behind a vinegary tang and a kinda vaguely spicy-adjacent hot sauce flavor, but without a trace of chicken. The ingredients say there’s chicken stock in there, but if you were to tell me you’d dumped a few shakes of hot sauce into some off-brand instant mac and cheese, I’d believe you. The pasta is also much softer than I like my ramen, despite only letting it sit for about 15 seconds rather than the recommended 2-3 minutes post-microwave. (What? I was hungry!)

All in all, stick to the pizza rolls, Totino’s, and leave the ramen to the pros.

Purchased Price: $1.88
Size: 2.19 oz container
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 3 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 240 calories, 6 grams of total fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 gram of trans fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 1430 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of total carbs, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 2 grams of total sugar, and 7 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Little Caesars Stuffed Pretzel Crust Pizza

I was slightly confused when I heard all the hubbub about Little Caesars introducing a new limited edition Stuffed Pretzel Crust. “I could have sworn I’ve had that before…” I thought, but it turns out I remembered merely customizing a pretzel crust pizza to add stuffed crust to it. This is the first time that “Stuffed Pretzel Crust” itself has officially appeared on the menu, and as a marketing aficionado, I’m happy to accept that as a unique new product worthy of its own celebration.

In the promotional images, the pretzel crust is a rich brown, solid, and stout, shimmering with butter and salt, reminiscent of the iconic Bavarian pretzel. What was inside my pizza box looked so different that I was initially afraid I’d gotten the wrong order. My crust seemed perhaps a tad darker than usual, but it didn’t have the deep shade or sheen I expected.

When I bit in, though, I realized it was perfectly pretzel-y; it was just more like a different type of pretzel: Auntie Anne’s. While it didn’t have a Bavarian pretzel’s telltale hue, firm snap leading to a chewy bite, or malty taste, it did boast a buttery, subtle sweetness, so perfectly complemented by its tender, fluffy texture that it practically melted in my mouth. Though it wasn’t what I expected, it paired with the stuffed crust beautifully. While the doughy pretzel crust didn’t have an overwhelming flavor, it had a noticeable aftertaste. That was well-balanced by the simple, mild cheese inside, which was soft enough that it paired perfectly with the pillowy crust yet never became gooey.

There are a few options on the website for how to order your Pretzel Stuffed Crust; taking the first option as a subtle endorsement, I went with Cheese Sauce & Pepperoni. I must confess I imagined the cheese sauce would be a small cup for dipping the crust into, like how many restaurants offer soft pretzel sticks with cheese dip as an appetizer. It wasn’t until I was partway through a surprisingly mild-tasting slice that it hit me: the cheese sauce wasn’t on the side, it was replacing the tomato sauce on the pizza!

This may sound counterintuitive, but I think the fact that it took me so long to realize this shows how well it worked. The cheese sauce blended perfectly with the cheese topping, bringing a unique creaminess. While tomato sauce usually adds some savory depth, the pretzel crust means that this pizza is covered in a generous, tongue-tingling smattering of salt that already provides plenty of complex flavor, so I appreciated that the sauce was more mellow in comparison. Its color reminded me of Velveeta cheese, but the taste wasn’t so tangy, more like a bland nacho cheese. This plainness also allowed the pepperoni to particularly pop.

First, I was surprised by how my Stuffed Pretzel Crust looked, but by the end of my meal, I was only surprised by how much I enjoyed it. It would be nice if the promotional images were a bit more accurate, but the decadent feeling of combining stuffed crust pizza with my favorite airport treat was way worth the slightly mismatched expectations.

Purchased Price: $9.99
Rating: 9 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (Whole pizza) 2660 calories. No other nutritional information is available on the Little Caesars website.

REVIEW: Good & Gather Collabs Ann Kim Pickle Pie Pizza

The box for this Good & Gather Collabs Ann Kim Pickle Pie Pizza says it’s a “Product of Italy.” I’m a little skeptical about that because, as a country known for its fine cuisine, I’m not sure a pickle pizza is something folks in Italy would be proud of. Sure, consume enough bottles of Sangiovese, and that pride might go out the window. However, this product has another P surprise — potato chips.

I’m not going to lie. The idea of a pickle and potato chip pizza sounds great. I did enjoy pickle-flavored ice cream, so I guess the chances of me enjoying this is not far-fetched. However, the pickles here are pretty poor. They don’t taste like the dill ones in a cheeseburger. Instead, they remind me of the pickled plum in the middle of my bento’s rice. Okay, 75 percent of you may not have experienced Japanese ume, but it’s the only way I can describe its sour flavor.

While the pickles mostly get lost in the ranch sauce, cheese, and potato chips, it’s still noticeable enough to bring down the bites with it. However, their flavor, thankfully, doesn’t get absorbed into the rest of the pizza, so simply removing them made things taste better. Without them, the combination of crust, potato chips, mozzarella cheese, and ranch sauce brings back tasty memories of dipping potato chips into French onion dip. I enjoyed the pizza at this point, and this really should’ve been the Good & Gather Collabs Ann Kim Potato Chip Pie Pizza.

While its flavor sans pickles was surprising, I was equally surprised about how pleasantly crispy the wood-fired crust’s exterior was at the ends.

However, what was 1,000,000 times more surprising than that was how crispy the potato chips were after being frozen and then heated on top of a layer of cheese and a sauce. They were like I pulled them straight out of the bag. How in food science did this happen? Is it because the instructions say to let the frozen pizza sit at room temperature for 15 minutes? Did the cheese’s oil deep fry the chips and revitalize their crispiness? Is this a “Product of Italy” because it’s the only country allowed to do this magic?

If you’re a dill pickle lover, this Good & Gather Collabs Ann Kim Pickle Pie won’t give you what your taste buds want. But if you’re willing to discard the pickles, you’ll still get a unique-tasting pizza thanks to the other P ingredient.

Purchased Price: $9.99
Size: 17.1 oz
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 6 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1/4 pizza) 290 calories, 13 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 690 milligrams of sodium, 30 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 11 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Domino’s Parmesan Stuffed Crust Pizza

I like Domino’s Pizza a lot but haven’t ordered it in years. That might seem counterintuitive, but there’s a good reason: I’m a stuffed crust fanatic, and Domino’s doesn’t offer stuffed crust. Or at least it hasn’t… until now. Cue the Parmesan Stuffed Crust!

It’s no exaggeration to say that I literally screamed when I heard the news. The name is a bit misleading, though: the crust is actually stuffed with mozzarella (as can also be found at Pizza Hut, Papa John’s, my grimy college dive with pizza so good I was willing to wait through multiple bar fights for it, etc.).

The parmesan element comes from a parmesan and garlic seasoning sprinkled across the crust. It’s the default for this pie but can be removed if desired… and honestly, I ended up wishing I’d done that. I prefer the simple, mild creaminess of mozzarella to parmesan’s funky saltiness, which was on full display here, so I would have liked to see the stuffed stuff stand on its own, even if that meant forsaking the namesake cheese. But I’m getting ahead of myself!

After surviving what felt like an endless wait for my delivery, I was rewarded with a pizza that was still as piping hot and pristine as if it’d just come out of the oven. My pie looked darker than I expected, but I didn’t mind since it didn’t taste overcooked. In fact, it reminded me why Domino’s is so beloved. The cheese was thick and consistently applied, neither too congealed nor too oozy; the sauce was impressively zesty, with a strong herbal taste that was way more interesting than the pizza I’m used to from other chains; the crust had the floppy, foldable texture I crave, firm enough to hold the weight of all of that goodness while still soft and supple enough not to literally crack under the pressure. But each bite, no matter how wonderful, was a mere appetizer leading up to the main course I came for.

And the stuffed crust was… nice.

Of course, since this pizza had been generating enough hype from me to power a small village, “nice” was not really the reaction I had hoped for. But ultimately, I wanted the cheese in my stuffed crust to be more solid, and this filling, though pleasingly abundant, was too gooey for me. In my opinion, the regular cheese on top of a pizza is already gooey enough, so the stuffed crust is an opportunity to bring something different to the table, and I was sad Domino’s didn’t take that opportunity! And as I mentioned, I found the parmesan unnecessary; it felt more like a marketing gimmick for extra uniqueness rather than an actual value add. Perhaps Domino’s should have considered that the reason other pizza places don’t liberally sprinkle their stuffed crusts with parmesan is because it tastes too overwhelming and distracts from the real star of the show.

But the bottom line is that stuffed crust is great! Domino’s is great! Stuffed crust Domino’s, therefore, is destined to be great! Sure, there are parts I could have enjoyed more, but this was still a dream come true—a pie in the sky, if you will, and even though it shot for the moon and missed for me, it still landed among the stars.

Purchased Price: $16.99
Size: Medium/12-inch (this is the only size available)
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: Not available at the time of the review’s publication.

Scroll to Top