One Final Review: The Mexican Pizza
One Final Review: The Mexican Pizza
[Post 142]
Note: “Happy birthday Beyonce” #spon #ad #parkwoodpartners #remyonce
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Our institutions are crumbling.
I got this news from my friend and colleague, in the middle of our workday. Admittedly, I didn’t click the link. I’d seen enough.
"TACO BELL REMOVES MEXICAN PIZZA”
I didn’t keep going. Never made it to “other items.” And had no clue about developments surrounding “pico de gallo” and “shredded chicken.” Because, again—
"TACO BELL REMOVES MEXICAN PIZZA”
The important thing here is the tense. This doesn’t say “will soon remove.”
“Removes” means it’s gone.
Mid-meeting, I went on Grubhub. Found the closest Taco Bell. Scrolled.
Scrolled a bit more.
And there it was.
I’d, somehow, snuck in under the wire. Maybe the store hadn’t gotten the news yet? Or maybe incompetence in the form of Grubhub’s lengthy history of getting my orders wrong has evolved into incompetence in the form of serving discontinued food.
The food was on its way.
While I waited, I listened to the community react.
I also decided to read one article. As a journali—
My sense of urgency was lost. And my fear of eating Taco Bell in the middle of the day was rising. And then, somehow — for the first time in history — Grubhub arrived early.
It was here.
I grabbed it and stared at it. What a familiar moment.
My favorite thing about the Mexican Pizza is that once it arrives, it’s your opportunity to turn it into an actual pizza. Just look at the way they put 90% of the tomatoes in the center. Why? Because this is clearly a pile for me to then spread throughout all four quadrants.
So I did that. And then took a bite.
It was everything I remembered. The foundation — as flimsy as a single sheet of paper. The tomatoes — like little balloons of acid. The cheese — multiple colors, indistinguishable in taste. The everything else in the middle — still tastes like everything else.
I couldn’t believe Taco Bell would ever take this dish away.
After the first bite, I took a six hour break (first mistake). Later, I took a second bite (second mistake). And then I put it in the microwave for a full minute (third mistake, because it got so exponentially flimsy, it made the fresh Mexican Pizza seem like proud tostada). And then I kept eating, until there was one slice left (fourth mistake).
I stared at it, beginning to not feel great. And then said “thank you.”
Thanks, Mexican Pizza, for all the memories.
And then took the last bite.
(Fifth mistake).
Still wondering how people were feeling about this sudden decision, the Internet guided me to Reddit.
(They saw something and said something, but sixth mistake).
There we go.