It’s Sunday, and that can only mean one thing: Omali is leaving work and hungry at midnight. And what do you do at midnight for food in a town where everything except grocery stores and McDonald’s close at nine pm? You go to a grocery store. Tonight I decided to take a trip down Wegmans lane, a store I consider as the place with a cheese selection about as large and pale as most of its shoppers. Sorry, Wegmans, I know it isn’t your fault. This is Orchard Park, and when the demographics lean 95% white with Asian coming in a close second at 1.8%, the only person of Japanese ethnicity who will enter the store is likely the guy you hired to roll the sushi.
As you can tell from the photo and title, today is PP Sunday, because I am a mature adult and I have an appropriate diet. First I will start out with the spicy pepperoni pizza which you may have been duped by the picture into thinking that it is a whole lot of bread and not much sauce or cheese. You couldn’t be further from the truth, you uncultured swine (with all due respect). Actually the pizza was surprisingly tasty considering I not only bought it from the prepared-then-refrigerated rack, but cooked it in the not-recommended microwave. I wouldn’t say it is anything to write home about (which is why I’ve blocked my family from reading this page), but the cheese was very thick, as was the sauce, all of which melted together without the pizza itself getting soggy. Unsurprisingly, the pepperoni was spicy on the level of someone accidentally dropping a pepper into a pot of soup, only to fish it out and then when it is finally served the customer says “this tastes spicy.” I suppose it is spicy to someone, perhaps a five year old with a capsicum allergy.
This is one of the few times I get to say that I consider something worth the price if only because of availability. The pizza was $4.99, but measured about a pound and a half. You can get a large pizza for $5 at Tops Markets, but not at half past midnight. And again, this is a place where 90% of the restaurants and pizzerias are closed by 10pm. There is nowhere else to choose from for pizza after midnight.
The pie you may assume was destroyed during transit. Sadly, that is exactly how they all looked when I picked it up off the shelf, and that is how they always look. Wegman’s pies taste great, but they have no structure and once they leave the confines of that pie dish, they fall apart into nothing. Also Wegman’s is either too lazy or too cheap to print two different labels. The apple pies are labeled “apple pie.” The tripleberry pies are labeled “apple pie” with apple pie scribbled out and the real name written in Sharpie. Like the pie consistency, this could be put off as a one time event if it hadn’t been the case for well over six months.
It is a system that flies in the face of everything Wegmans seems to strive for otherwise, which is providing fancy looking food with ingredients even I can pronounce, at a price somewhat higher than their local competitors. Higher priced food for a higher quality shopping experience, as they say in the bizz. I’m not in the bizz, so I don’t call it that.
The pie was very sweet, and despite its complexity resembling that of a mudslide, the crust held together rather well. In lieu of crust on top, the tripleberry pie uses a crumble made primarily of brown sugar. There isn’t much to comment on the pie, other than the fact that it was sweet enough that I felt compelled to get a diabetes test. What I’m trying to say is that there is a lot of sugar in this slice of pie, more than any pie should conceivably have, with the exception of that pie being baked in order to assassinate a politician with diabetes.
Ultimately the pizza was the more satisfying of the duo, granting me more faith in the pre-cooked and refrigerated food market. If someone can find the recipe that my old high school used to make pizza, that would be great. That and their spaghetti. It was fantastic, and for just $1.75 too.