Celebrity Intern and I sampled their wares on a lazy Sunday evening when we didn’t quite feel like cooking. We called up, ordered a Chicken Bacon Bleu pizza (large), but were flummoxed by the fact that our phone order-taker informed us that they could only do a thin crust for medium sizes and smaller. Jigga-what? What diff does it make what size the pie? Serious. In NYC, this shit would be no probs, bobs.

Anyhoozle, we said “OK, whatevs,” and had them send out a large pie. We got it within the 40 minute predicted period, and the delivery dude was sweaty, but nice. Granted, he did have to climb 3 flights of stairs to reach us. And called to ask where the eff we were, in relation to the tennis courts (ed note: we ARE way hidden in our complex, and expect these types of frantic phone calls). We tipped generously, and then commenced to chow down!

The nomming was tasty, though not quite the Chicken Bacon Bleu of our dreams. Celebrity Intern complained about the lack of bleu cheese in every bite, and I felt it was somehow too much, yet not enough simultaneously. Perhaps it was the salt content? Rich, but ultimately not satisfying. Celebrity Intern pointed out that the chicken chunks were uniformly rectangular, a suspicious strike against them.

They are no Austin’s Pizza. No offense: the toppings that are there are plentiful, no doubt, but sub-par in quality. The bleu cheese was probably just some moldy cheese they had lying around. It was “clearly out of a can, or perhaps a sack,” according to Celebrity Intern. The bacon was tasty, though super salty.

We would like to see Pizza Paradise go whole-hog with their claims of greatness. Paradise = heaven! Let’s see some hustle, Pizza Paradise.

Overall grade: C-, or 3.2 out of 5 stars.

"Home Slice of My Heart" (photo by Flickr user FilmNut)

I’ve tried my share of the U.S. chains over the years, and while I seemed to recall Papa John’s being pretty good back in the days when I lived at my parents’ place and we actually had to pull a Seinfeld-esque scam to get them to deliver to us (the cut-off for delivery to our area was literally the house next door; we would give their address and sit in the driveway with the cash), it seems their wares haven’t withstood the test of time. Either that or I’m getting picky in my old age, but I’d like to think a cardboard-like crust has never qualified as a pizza.

Still, Papa’s got locations everywhere and you can order online, which is something a phone-phobic weirdo like me can appreciate. As some say, bad pizza’s like sex: even when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.

I don’t typically share that opinion, however—not outside of NYC, anyway—so I’ve been on the hunt for a more satisfying pie. I gave Gatti’s a try, but was similarly disappointed in their thin crust. Their toppings, however, delighted me more than Papa John’s, and you can also order online. (Seems to be a trend here in town, which I applaud. Now if they’d just take Paypal…) Smoked provolone cheese on a pizza? Nice touch, boys. You’ve got goombatz.

After I got a hot tip from my banker, I hit up Austin’s Pizza. Of the thin-crust pizzerias in town, so far I’ve enjoyed Austin’s the most. Now, you can order online here, but it seems my credit card has expired (this after my fuggin’ bank just sent me a replacement card a month ago; nice job, maroons!), so I had to do it the old-fashioned way and call. The gal I spoke to was friendly and polite and gave me the same price they quoted me online, which includes a $2 delivery fee. I’ve noticed most of the joints around here have this fee, which ranges from about two to four bucks a pie, and it makes me wonder: does this mean I should leave out the tip for the delivery guy? Or is this just another way to jack up the price?

Anyway, Austin’s was smooth. You can get a small or a large (10 or 14″), build your own or pick from some of their tried-and-true selections. The Californian with grilled chicken, spinach, Roma tomatoes, red onions, garlic and cheddar cheese was calling my name, but I ultimately opted for a DIY mushroom + “breakfast bacon” (as opposed to “Canadian bacon”—which Canadians actually refer to as “back bacon”) + Jack cheddar cheese/mozzarella concoction that hit the spot. Nice thin crust, not at all cardboard-y (score!), plenty of cheese, salty bacon, and decent mushroom spread. Could’ve used a bit more from the topping distribution (I find Austin pizzerias to be a bit chintzy on the toppings in general), but it was definitely the tastiest thin-crust pie I’ve had thus far.

Oh: I was also terribly tempted to throw in one of their Butter’s Brownies, described as “A locally-made chocolate chip square of heaven, with a portion of the proceeds benefitting the Donna Hicken Foundation for women living with breast cancer, and the Mayo Clinic.” I mean, chocolate heaven AND donating to breast cancer? That’s hot! Alas, I did not give into this temptation, but perhaps next time. I do love me some brownies.

Giordano's: the One True Chicago Deep-Dish pizza!

I should add that I’ve also tried Conan’s Pizza, but I’m waiting on another suggestion from the Foodie Banker to compare and contrast their “Chicago style” with another in town. As a born-’n'-raised Chicagoan (okay, okay: I’m really from the western suburbs, but eff off, willya?), I’ve got hometown pride about the proper way to build an authentic Chicago deep-dish pizza. And obviously, Giordano’s is the One True Chicago Deep-Dish, but since they have yet to set up shop here in Austin, I’m giving the locals a chance to prove themselves.

So, any suggestions for a worthy pie—deep-dish or thin-crust? Knock my socks off!