J.B.: Pizza seems to be ubiquitous at Lawrence these days. There is the pizza bar at New Downer, which I seem to visit on a more frequent basis day-to-day than I remember to wear deodorant. Sal’s down on college serves pizza by the slice with less racial tension than its namesake from “Do the Right Thing.” Muncheez and Toppers carry the same household name status as the Beatles and The Rolling Stones did for our parents and the ensuing debate over who’s who.
Mac: Debate? I thought everyone knows that Muncheez is the Beatles.
J.B.: Maybe in terms of popularity, but then that makes corporate Toppers the Rolling Stones … Anyway, there is more pizza on campus than there are comparisons of Obama to Stalin on a half hour of Fox News programming.
Mac: And although other pizza shops have the delivery game locked down, it is still a little surprising that not many people know about Frank’s Pizza.
J.B.: The walk down College is not too far, and the tasteful Italian-style pillars and flashing red sign make the palace – umm I mean, place – hard to miss.
Mac.: You and your puns … J.B and I chose to sit next to the turtle aquarium, even though the one cute girl in the place was sitting up front.
J.B.: The prices were a little higher than we’re used to paying for pizza, but this makes it a great place to bring a date – you get your pizza and beer, and she thinks you’re taking her somewhere special just because of the prices listed on the menu! It is a palace!
Mac: A pizza palace that is …
JB: Mac and I went on Sunday night, hoping to catch a little gridiron action, but there were no televisions, only murals of hard-cooking Italians to distract you from your potential date’s certainly beautiful face and horribly engaging conversation.
Mac: The pizza arrived, and the thin crust was one of the crispier I’ve tasted for a long time. The homemade sausage almost melted in my mouth, making me sad for J.B., my deprived vegetarian friend.
J.B.: My cheese and onion pizza was also delicious – we weren’t quite adventurous enough to try the vegetarian that contained a wide variety of veggies. We washed down our pizza with soda that our disconcertingly hospitable waitress poured down on us like November rain.
Mac: It’s the beard, J.B. – women love the beard.
J.B.: Aw, Mac, you’re making me blush …
Mac: I’ve also tried the Frank’s special, and if you have a little extra dough, it is definitely worth it. The sausage and mushrooms are heaped onto such a thin crust that you feel as if you are defying the laws of physics as you heft it to your mouth.
J.B.: I sprung for the cannoli, in an effort to prolong my one on one time with Mac …
Mac: And how can you go wrong with chocolate and crme de menthe? We gobbled it down in no time.
J.B.: You mean you gobbled it down – hopefully if you bring a date, they will have better table manners and will have been raised with a greater understanding of the concept of sharing than Mac.
Mac: Next time we’ll have to branch out a little; I have the sense that Frank’s other options, even just in pizza, which include a thick crust and a double-crusted number that is almost like a sort of pizza sandwich with toppings in the middle and on top, are as tasty as they are original.
To return to your brilliantly put metaphor at the beginning of this brilliantly written review, Toppers is what you bring home after ten old-fashioneds, Muncheez is who you call when … well, I think the title is self-explanatory …
J.B.: But when you are looking for something a little more meaningful, Frank’s is the spot.
Insider Tip of the Week: Sit by the turtle aquarium. Seriously, they’re really cool.
Domestic gourmands:
