The infamous Toppers Pizza that I never had the honor of eating before coming to Eau Claire has finally made its way into my life. I cannot say that this was a blessing in disguise, because that would be a lie. 

The crust was dry and hard to bite through — quite an interesting issue to have when it is doused in grease. It reminded me of any other gas station pizza slice that sat under the heater for a little too long and became too stale before consumption. 

The sauce was unrecognizable. When I eat pizza, I typically expect a nice tomato spread, alfredo or maybe even pesto. But for some reason, Toppers replaced most of their sauce with more cheese.  

The noodles were crusty, undercooked and wet all at the same time. I am unsure if this is supposed to be al dente, but I am sure that any Italian would be disappointed. I don’t know how a noodle can be crusty and wet at the same time, but Toppers accomplished it. 

The cheese seemed to be the main goal, but somehow, I can still barely taste it. It all started to blend into one flavor, and I would’ve rather eaten my microwaveable Kraft mac and cheese than this sad imitation. Somehow, the flavors are more elevated in that cup of Kraft, and although it could be plastic, at least there’s some interest while consuming it. 

Now that the pizza was made, I had to sit back and figure out where it all went wrong. But I couldn’t. This pizza was wrong in every aspect, and there was no defining issue within it. 

One would think that combining noodles and pizza would help—as they are good on their own—but it didn’t. Somehow, pizza and mac and cheese, a child’s favorite meals, are ruined when put together. 

There may be some bias here that should be accounted for. I am lactose intolerant. But even if I wasn’t, I don’t think I would be able to make it through this pizza without suffering from immense pain in my stomach. 

The sweating, nausea, tears and cold communal bathroom floor I genuinely considered lying on were almost a worse combination than the pizza. 

I have not felt this amount of pain, suffering or regret since I had a cheesecake on a stick at the state fair when I was eight years old. And I took a Lactaid this time, too. 

The amount of grease, cheese and noodles on this pizza made me wish the recession had impacted their supply a little bit more. 

I could say I’m disappointed, but I am not even surprised by this outcome. Toppers doesn’t exist in Minnesota, and I have never been so happy to have a lack of variety. I am thankful every day that I didn’t have to eat this pizza at any birthday parties when I was growing up. 

I will not be purchasing this pizza again, nor will I be eating this pizza again unless force-fed to me as a punishment for having a lack of lactase enzymes. 

I couldn’t even finish the rest of the pie as it sat in my mini fridge, which did not really have the space for a large pizza. I tried to offer it up to other people, but even they were a little disgusted by it. 

Luckily, the pizza was composted. I do wonder if a pizza that best resembles plastic and rubber could even be thrown in the compost, but I tried anyway.  

Trnka can be reached at [email protected].