Is there a perfect pizza out there?

Redmond Bacon looks at whether the perfect pizza can be found in Leamington…

Is there such a thing as the platonic ideal of pizza? Pizza would surely be the platonic conception of the perfect meal, it is food in its simplest essence, the blank base a kind of tabula rasa upon which any ingredient goes. But is there a pizza so perfect, so undeniably incredible that all the other pizzas are forgotten forever? In the infamous How I Met Your Mother episode, “The Best Burger in New York”, Marshall Erikson goes on a journey to rediscover that perfect burger he once found by accident eight years ago. A couple of weeks ago I caught this episode on E4 and, inspired by my surrogate friends, I decided to find the perfect pizza in Leamington Spa, the kind of pizza that tops off the ultimate lad dream of having a couple of beers and watching the game.

Due to my extremely high metabolism and my seeming inability to get full, the perfect pizza for me is one extremely high in fat, sodium and calories. This rules out any pizza under at least 1,500 calories. On the other hand, the price must be reasonable. Pizza Hut, those pioneers in obesity, have recently released a 2880 calorie double pepperoni pizza with cheeseburger crust. Does this sound like the dream? No, its £17.25. Unless you’re loaded, or that accumulator has finally come off, this pizza is entirely ruled out. Also, you can’t watch the game in Pizza Hut. This also rules out Domino’s, that stoner phantasm with its obscene pricing only viable on a Tuesday. Domino’s is criminally overrated, and you can get pizzas with the same taste for a lot cheaper. Also being written off is Papa Johns, because my flat-mate said he saw a guy cooking in there picking a human hair off an olive.

Beginning my quest around Leamington, I first visited Simply Fresh, which brands itself as a local convenience store, but is secretly a dressed up Cost-Cutters. Discounting the bland-as-fuck-no-crust-two-for-three-pounds pepperoni pizza, their main deal is a two-for-five-pounds “Heritage Pizza”. The selection is pitiful; pepperoni, meat feast, extra cheese and chicken. However, upon having gorged myself on two of these pizzas I was still hungry, and the crust was unbelievably bland. I’m not writing Simply Fresh off entirely, they have the best selection of liquor in Leamington, the mince is pretty cheap, and there’s some good banter with the people behind the till, but for pizzas, the choices are woeful.

Down the street, Co-op appears to be not much better and it’s even more expensive. Similar to Cost-Cutter there is a two-for-six pound deal on pepperoni and Hawaiian pizza, but given they are as poorly calorific and more expensive I gave them a miss. However, a deep pan American hot pizza caught my eye. Usually costing over £3, but today reduced to £2.25, I decided to take it home. The first bites were promising, and I thought this might be the one. But upon finishing, I was still hungry; this wasn’t really a pizza, but the mere simulacrum of one. What it had in terms of toppings, with a liberal amount of chilies and peppers, it lacked in ability to sate my appetite.

Unperturbed, I decided to return to Co-op and try my luck in the frozen section. Among cheap £1 pizzas which were ridiculously light on calories, were the non-supermarket brands: Goodfellas and ChicagoTown. My interest was piqued. Here was a world beyond the Midlands, the world of Italian-America, the home of the modern pizza, where 13% of males eat pizza every day. Chicago must be the answer I thought, Ted and Marshall (for the fellow HIMYM fans) went there. I took the ChicagoTown extra-thick-crust pepperoni pizza out of the frozen section and checked the back – a grand total of 1784 calories. This was the dream. Despite the price of £3.29, I didn’t care. I had to let the money go. This could be the one. Due to the extra-thick-crust characteristic of the Chicago pizza, it takes some 18 minutes to cook. I timed it to the Man United – Olympiakos game. Eighteen minutes in, one beer and two packets of crisps later, I opened the oven, and steam clouded my glasses. I put it on a plate, sat down, and took my first bite. This was it. Here was the pizza I had been waiting for. Relatively cheap and completely filling, simple yet elegant, this was the pinnacle of pizza. I washed it down with beer and all felt right with the world. I had found the one.