One month ago, the weekend of June 16-18, I was in Chicago for CAKE, the city’s first alternative comics expo. On the last day, we dined at Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria (805 South State Street Chicago, IL 60605)
Here’s the skinny. Malnati’s offers the “authentic” Chicago style pizza experience, that is to say, carbs oozing fat.
The eating crew consisted mainly of guys from the East Coast (Philadelphia and New York). As we were accustomed to the thin crust variety we stepped up and requested two pizzas, one regular and one personal for the table. I’ve been to Chicago before and experienced the madness that is deep dish. I warned my friends that might be too much, even for five full grown men with appetites.
Sure enough, the heap was unconquerable. Somewhere I heard that at his lowest Chris Farley would consume one personal pie every evening he was in town. Incredible.
As the oil and dough assimilated our DNA and swelled in our stomachs, my table mates could only helplessly stare at what remained on their plates and wonder what happened. With my travel funds evaporated, I stepped up and took the leftovers which were to sustain me until my departure the next day.
Lately during my travels I have become to experience stomach discomfort. Perhaps its old age, or the road finally taking its toll, but my guts simply can not handle foods outside my immediate habitat anymore. I’m talking about bowels and their movements here. Shitting. Towards the end of this trip, I made a concerted effort to fix this by consuming plenty of water and ruffage like nuts and leafy greens.
Malnati’s leftovers undid all this. The pizza sits like a foreign body within you and waits, perhaps evolving, maybe growing until it bursts from your gut as some fully formed pizza creature that will kill everyone around you.
In summation, eat Malnati’s once in your lifetime, maybe twice if you have stomach acid like magma and a GI tract with a militant bacterial defense force. Otherwise, you’ll die. Delicious.
illustrations and gif by cody pickrodt