I'm at the Pizza Hut. I'm at the Taco Bell. I'm at the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell and Panda Express and Olive Garden and Long John Silver's. I'm at Pizza Ultimania, yo, and my tummy, it doth ache. Actually, I'm not at Pizza Ultimania, because it does not offer a dine-in option. No, I am at home with approximately 10 pounds of P.U. leftovers and what feels a lot like a dime-sized tear in my heart growing larger by the second.
My heartburn ain't Ultimania's fault, though. Not really. Just because this tiny takeout joint next door to Plaid Pantry offers pizza and chicken wings and pad Thai and pork spring rolls does not mean I had to have all of them at once. Oh, but I did, friends, I did! Finally, I thought, my pipe dream that I might one day order from every Lloyd Center food-court establishment simultaneously, without using a bullhorn, is a reality! This, I thought, is the American goddamn way writ large in special sauce, and if you don't mind, I'd like extra cheddar on my taco pizza ($16.49-$25.49), thank you very much, and here's my next of kin's telephone number in case my skeleton buckles beneath the weight of this thing on my way out to my car.
So anyway, that's how I ended up here with three-fourths of a taco pizza, wondering just how much I hate my dog. Essentially a gargantuan Taco Bell tostada with a bland crust carrying the beans and cheese, this is Ultimania's only truly horrendous creation (and no, I don't dislike my dog quite that much). The rest of its stoner-friendly fare is shockingly decent for a place that is willing to deliver both giant tiger prawns ($16) and lasagna ($7.50) to any addled man in a bathrobe (I had a rough day) within reasonable driving distance and for no extra charge.
The orange brick of pad Thai ($9) with chicken, which by some impossible and possibly dangerous magic tastes just as fresh after three days in the fridge, is a bit on the dry side, but it is at least as good as the carbohydrate bombs dropped by the second-tier carts around town. Same goes for the stir-fry combination ($9), a sweet vegetable and grease medley that very nearly precludes chewing, which is rather convenient if you've been drinking—and if you're ordering an Asian stir-fry from a place called Pizza Ultimania, odds are good that you're one existential insult away from downing a fifth of cologne.
Hot and spicy chicken wings ($6.99) are neither hot nor spicy, but they are warm and ripped from what appears to have been morbidly obese diabetic hens, and with enough ranch dressing they taste like something they might serve in the Kevorkian wing of a wisecracking hospital. Delicious, in other words, if you are hooked to a morphine drip and contemplating the edge of the abyss. Again, you just ordered chicken wings from a place with the initials P.U., so come on, let's face it: What have you got to lose?
Pizza Ultimania, 3508 SE 52nd Ave., 774-9929, pizzaultimania.com. Lunch and dinner 11 am-11 pm Monday-Thursday, 11 am-midnight Friday and Saturday. Dinner 4-10 pm Sunday. Takeout and delivery only. $ Inexpensive.