McPizza Me Perfect

The other day, I read about these three dudes who drove 1,000 miles to try the only McDonald's pizza in America. The title of the article itself was a bit misleading, only because there are actually three locations still serving a version of the fabled and faded McPizza, including two factions in West Virginia and one in Southern Ohio. No matter. Three 20-somethings from Ontario, Canada set out to road trip eight hours on a mission to grab a slice of this rare find, wherever the roads led them (the driver even wore a star-spangled t-shirt appropriately splayed with an American eagle to further bolster the validity of his American mission).

The mission, of course, was not about the quality of the pizza and that less-than-perfecto pepperoni they would go onto consume, but rather the journey. After all, the journey of McPizza has been one of starts and stops, ever since the burger giant baked up the idea back in 1986. At the time, McDonald's dominated nearly 40% of America's $48 billion burger market, according to a historic account of the McPizza published on Mental Floss. In its first prototype, the McPizza materialized as a calzone-like creation with a shape that resembled an eyeglass pouch. It wasn't until 1989 that the product morphed into a picture of pizza as we know it, albeit with waxy meat toppings, (fresh?) veggies and often less-than-ooey-gooey cheese. It endured spotty popularity throughout the early '90s, but it was mainly customer wait times that killed the pizza dream for McDonald's. Loyalists simply didn't want to wait 10 minutes for made-to-order pizzas while their sacks of burgers and fries caught a chill in the back seats of Pontiac Sunbirds. By the middle of the decade, the burger giant's push for national pizza dominance had all but fizzled out, with all but a few lone franchisees holding onto the take-out dream.

Which brings us to 2017, where the lore of McPizza remains strong, particularly in Canada it seems. Its official name, in fact, is not McPizza, but it's forever burned in my memory as such ever since my first encounter with it back in the '80s. We were on our annual family trip in Wisconsin Dells with my mom, brother and grandma and grandpa, of course, and it being 1986 or '87 we were all McDonald's-ing hardcore, regardless of our locale. Our locale on this day happened to be Wisconsin Dells and, yes, we had gone there to eat dinner that evening. I stood in line with my grandpa, gazing up at the maroon menu marquee lined with real, movable white-tile letters and next them, there glowed a beacon of McDonald's newness—a picture perfect advertisement for McPizza.

It was my grandpa who suggested we order it first. I only remember being distracted by the white and green and red color scheme the ad sported, as if it was actually a semi-authentic Italian dish. Years later I would discover that pictorial plug was actually quite similar to the MCD.L.T ads that had made the rounds on menu boards a few years earlier. Perhaps they simply swapped out a stylized burger for a stylized pizza? Mysteries.

This should have been a moment of foreshadowing. We all know the fate of the McD.L.T. and McPizza would soon travel down a similar path. I honestly don't remember much about how the pizza itself tasted after my grandpa ordered it. I don't remember him lovin' it or me lovin' it or even ordering it again. In fact, maybe the only reason I remember my only encounter with McPizza is because we were on vacation and when you're on vacation as a kid, everything is special and magical and full of McPizza potential—even a weekday dinner at McDonald's. But alias, it was the '80s and dinner at McDonald's was pretty special too.

There's no current movement to resurrect the McPizza at franchises nationally. With the rise of fast casual chains in the past decade, perhaps people would be willing wait longer for a pizza. Then again, people today are less willing to wait for anything. For our purposes, it's best to file away the McPizza as nostalgic gold. I think it's much tastier as fodder for fast food lore and off-kilter Canadian road trips.

After all, that stuff's a true slice of life.

** At the time of publishing, The Lost Boys soundtrack (1987) was playing in its entirety at this coffee shop and I had absolutely nothing to do with it. But I'll take those piping hot saxophones any day.