The Quest For McDonald's Pizza
Have you ever seen “Crossroads” with Britney Spears (and Dan Aykroyd, apparently)?
Me neither, but I did peruse the plot on Wikipedia before writing this. The movie centers around three young characters who take off across the country on a road trip, driving after their dreams.
I did that once too…
…but I wasn’t heading off in search of my long lost mother, a career in the music industry, or true love. No, I was looking for a savory piece of history, the last vestiges of a little-known delicacy that could only be found along the banks of the Ohio River. Like Britney’s character “Lucy,” I gathered some of my closest friends and hit the road for an adventure that would hopefully one day inspire the production of a commercially and critically unsuccessful motion picture.
We went on a quest for McDonald’s Pizza.
McDonald’s once served pizza. It’s the stuff of fast food legend. Had it really happened? Was it any good? Could you still find it?
Well, dear reader, yes—it still existed in the heart of Appalachia—available to the taste buds of those brave enough to make the journey in a 1973 bright yellow Buick Skylark Convertible Matt’s Honda Civic. A road trip afforded to those who viewed the world with a whimsical embrace and youthful innocence had the day off work.
If my friends and I had buried a “wish box” as kids—one filled with our deepest desires in the vein of the Crossroads characters—I’m about 85% sure my wish would’ve been “eat pizza at a McDonalds.” It’s a concept I found curious when I was both 6 and 26. However—Nick, Matt, Caitlin, and I didn’t know each other as kids. Nor in high school. We became friends as adults who all shared a common employer, an affection for hanging out at the local diner, and an eagerness to sample the most prized of the forgotten McDonald’s menu items. These friends were the kind of people who you could approach and say “hey, I read this thing on Reddit, wanna go look for it?” and they wouldn’t even question you. They’d just say: “sure.”
Crossroads, like so many other movies and television shows, paints this romanticized picture of road trips. I’ve spent a good amount of time on the road and have found that idealized notion to be less than common. That’s not to say road trips can’t be insightful or fulfilling, but they’re rarely these life affirming experiences that help us realize who we truly are. My friends and I had no preconceived notions on this day. We knew that this trip would probably be fun, a chance for us to hang out and do something different, but nothing that would challenge our self identity or cause us to grow as human beings. At the very best, it might curb our midday appetites.
We planned to stop multiple times along the way, keeping an eye out for anything interesting we came across. We started at our Waffle House in Kings Mills, Ohio, and purposefully avoided the interstate system, taking back roads and “blue highways” only (although without the emotional conviction of William Least Heat-Moon). There was an abandoned bridge in Morrow, a junk yard in Blanchester, the Paint Creek Dam in Bainbridge, derelict vintage cars in Jackson, a bathroom break at a McDonalds (that did not sell pizza) in Chilicothe, and the Mothman Statue in Point Pleasant:
Eventually, we came to the light at the end of our four hour marinara sauce seasoned tunnel: THE McDonalds in Pomeroy, Ohio.
One of the last two that still sold the enigmatic pizza pies.
I realize that there may be lingering questions (assuming you’ve made it this far):
Why did McDonald’s sell pizza?
When did McDonald’s sell pizza?
and
Why did McDonald’s stop selling pizza?
No matter how you feel about the clown-clad, artery clogging empire—there’s no denying that McDonald’s has been historically innovative. For better or worse, the organization has come to shape culture, dietary habits, consumerism, and economics with more influence than any of its competitors could ever hope to muster. The deep fried dynasty proliferated drive-thrus and brought breakfast into the fast food fold by carefully researching and re-shaping their menu over the ages. Dinnertime was a key market they sought to capture, though. As Jake Rosen wrote in his 2015 McDonald’s Pizza retrospective for Mental Floss:
“Sacks of burgers were perceived as a lunchtime treat, something to be grabbed while speeding to or from the responsibilities of the day. When families got together in the evenings, they preferred to sit down, relax, and eat at a table rather than slumped over a steering wheel.”
In the 70s and 80s, pizza was capturing the hearts, minds, and appetites of the American public at suppertime. Pizza Hut led the way, opening sit-down parlors across the nation that were seen not just as a quick way snag an affordable meal, but an “experience” for the entire family. McDonald’s wanted those customers to be sitting in their estaurants. And they believed pizza would be the way to lure them.
The Golden Arches first attempted to play God with pizza in the late 70s. Mainly in Wisconsin, the concept of personal pizzas was tested with consumers. “McPizza” was tested soon after, but that product was mainly a hybrid of the traditional calzone crossed with the shape of the company’s popular apple pie—something that could be enjoyed while driving.
The test results were revealing that pizza didn’t necessarily translate to the company’s traditional drive-thru and quick service format. To compete with the likes of Pizza Hut, the burger chain would need to re-think how they did business. They patented their own pizza ovens, developed operational policies, and ultimately put together an elaborate plan for this one specific offering that was a far cry from everything else on the menu. McDonald’s Pizza would be the only dish actually brought to a patron’s table and served. Not looking to isolate any of their car-ridden customers, though, the company actually designed new drive-thru windows that would be wide enough to pass a pizza box through. Drivers would be able to call ahead, pick up their pizza, and speed off. Many stores had renovations put in place to accommodate a menu item that was still in the testing phase, but sure to roll out nationwide eventually.
Still, McDonald’s wasn’t going to rush this product out in a hurry. They wanted to get it right (or as right as fast food pizza could be). By 1989, full size family pizzas were being tested in select markets. As news of the company’s plans spread over the years, Pizza Hut launched a preemptive propaganda blitz that questioned McDonald’s ability to create a quality pizza product (ironic, I know). The threat to their business was certainly real. If McDonald’s unleashed their pizza across the world, it wouldn’t be subtle. The locations and real-estate were already well established. Seemingly overnight, every Pizza Hut would be countered by the numerically superior forces of Mayor McCheese.
The test markets kept growing. Slowly, more stores across the US and Canada were being outfitted with the pizza ovens and drive-thru windows as shareholders monitored progress in anticipation of a chain-wide rollout. While a McDonald’s kitchen could crank out a pie faster than Pizza Hut, the prep time was still long in comparison to the traditional "McMenu." The price wasn’t sitting well with consumers either. Although relatively affordable, the pizza was priced quite a bit higher than everything else that the ‘arches’ offered. The early 90s were the peak of McDonald’s Pizza in the United States and Canada. By that point, many stores carried the product, but they were still defined as “testing” it out. Eventually, the company abandoned the idea completely and the menu item quietly disappeared as the ovens were shipped to the scrap heap.
Except in two* stores.
A 2015 story on Canada.com spread across the internet like wildfire when it revealed that a pair of McDonald’s locations were the only ones that still carried pizza. Owned by the same franchisee, the stores in Pomeroy, OH and Spencer, West Virginia sat just across the river from each other, still serving up personal and family sized pies.
There’s some debate as to whether or not it was the same product as the original McDonald’s Pizza, but it’s been reported that the ingredients and supplies still came from the initial third-party supplier, now delivered to just one franchisee who had found the product to be particularly popular with his customers. There was also the question of how these two locations could still offer a dish the company had claimed to kill. As McDonald’s sought to renovate and align its locations over the years, the two remaining pizza-hawking stores were noticeably from a different era. If you’ve ever seen the biopic of McDonald’s “founder” Ray Kroc, you’ll know that the company doesn’t think too highly of its restaurants not being consistent in appearance and operation.
No matter how these stores were getting away with it, the viral article drew a ton of attention to them. After I saw it posted on Reddit (and realized the locations weren’t that far away), I hatched the idea for a road trip and set off with my friends in March of 2015.
The employees couldn’t have been nicer, but it was clear that they weren’t impressed. “You came from Cincinnati? That’s nothing, we had some folks drive down from Canada last month!" one said.
Note: McDonald’s Pizza was apparently incredibly popular in Canada, by the way.
The McDonald’s Pizza of Pomeroy was still such a source of local pride that the restaurant’s electronic sign continuously advertised it. We were told that it wasn’t at all uncommon for someone to come in and order pizza whether they lived down the street or across the state. It was a part of everyday life in this particular restaurant, a menu offering that wasn’t at all threatened by the Pizza Hut across the street.
We ordered, myself opting for pepperoni, and we took our seats. This McDonald’s had been spared the “modern upgrades” of so many others in the ubiquitous fast food chain over the last decade. It still looked like the place from our childhood: the Grimace, Hamburglar, and their clown overlord still adorning decorations on the walls. This store also featured a full-fledged ice cream parlor, serving up scoops alongside the traditional and simple soft-serve that the company was known for. A few moments later, our personal pizzas were delivered to the table. We each grabbed a slice, snapped a photograph, toasted, and dug in.
I tell you no lies solely for the sake of this story: the pizza was pretty good.
Look—it wasn't gourmet, artisanal, or anything really that special aside from the fact that you could only find it in select locations, but it did taste good. Better than you’d expect a fast food restaurant to make. If I lived nearby, I’d probably pick it up fairly often. $4.92 got us each a medium coke and a personal serving.
We were all a little in disbelief. We didn’t expect it to be bad pizza, but we also didn’t expect to enjoy it so much. We even had a conversation where we challenged each other to question whether or not it truly tasted good, or, if we were just in a good mood—caught up in the moment and road trip.
The objective-as-we-could-get consensus: it was good pizza.
Fast food pizza, but good pizza.
While the price is fair, the dish wasn’t all that filling. A serving size was pretty small (looking back after four years and now nearly 50 lb lighter, I can recognize that the portion was actually just fine), so we went back for more. For round two, we added a McDonald’s twist and adorned a few personal pizzas with McNuggets, french fries, and ranch dressing.
Judge all you want.
It was delicious.
Lunch consumed and mission accomplished, we thanked our hosts and jumped back on the road after purchasing several more pies to take home with us. In the time since I made these photographs (and finally got around to writing this story), I still haven't seen the Britney Spears road trip movie known as Crossroads. Maybe, though, I shouldn't be so quick to dismiss it or the stereotypical road trip themes it plays on. I have a fondness for this day in the back of my brain—not just because of the food, but because of the people I spent time with. This story hails from a different era in all of our lives. Like many things documented on this site (and now the pizza), it's a part of the past.
Then again, the pizza has more positive reviews than that film.
Like Crossroads, maybe searching out McDonald's Pizza wasn't on par with Kerouac, but I'll always appreciate that afternoon in Pomeroy.
Epilogue:
Life got in the way shortly after we took this trip and I never quite got around to sharing this story on QC/D. In the time since these photographs were made, both the Pomeroy, OH and Spencer, WV McDonald’s restaurants stopped offering pizza. I don’t know exactly why. Every statement made on behalf of the franchise owner was released via McDonald’s corporate offices. Perhaps the company finally got tired of the rebellious lack of compliance with the chain-wide menu. It’s a shame if so. McDonald’s Pizza truly is no more.
*The stores in Pomeroy, OH and Spencer, WV were the only two that I (and various internet sources) saw as offering the “traditional” McDonald’s Pizza (or at least the closest thing to the original menu item). A store in Orlando, as well as a few other destination/tourist locations, also offer various forms of pizza on the menu. It's pizza, but not THE pizza.
Update | April 27, 2022
The store in Pomeroy was renovated sometime between 2018 and 2021. The “traditional” look was done away with (along with the pizza) and it was replaced with the updated, modern McDonald’s model. If you have a fondness for the “Mansard roof” McDonald’s, though, you’ll appreciate this story.