Sbarro: Bastion of Grease, Lard

AppId is over the quota
AppId is over the quota
Yeahhh...So I just discovered Instagram...

A little while ago, Sbarro filed for bankruptcy and seemed to be on its way out. It made sense–I mean, come on, when you’re up against the big boys like Pizza Hut and Dominos, Little Caesers and Papa Johns and Godfather’s, what hope does a little pizza chain from Huntington have?

But as of late November, Sbarro is back in the game. And this Christmas, when my LaGuardia terminal only offered Auntie Anne’s and Sbarro as fast food options for the on-the-go traveller, I decided to partake.

I should begin my review with the caveat that my head was not in the game. I was en route to South Carolina, mere hours away from real sweet tea and Zaxby’s. I wasn’t planning to savor anything I ate until the spicy frieds made their way to my plate. In fact, immediately after eating at Sbarro, I ordered a small cone from TCBY and then used a napkin to wipe half the ice cream into the trash. I was just that over it.

I chose Sbarro over Auntie Anne’s because, let’s face it: although the smell of pretzels wafting through the terminal has got to be in the top five smells OF ALL TIME, a pretzel is just not a substantive meal. Even if that pretzel is covering a cheese-infused hot dog, I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that I’m supposed to let a pretzel fill me up. Sbarro, with its strangely harsh lighting and sparse cafeteria-style options, seemed the logical choice for a hungry traveller such as myself.

Woop. There it is.

I placed a fairly tame order of a pepperoni slice and a breadstick. The one word I would use to describe  my meal is: “grease.” Ho-LY CRAP.

Now, I’m no stranger to the world of greasy pizza–I spent many a high school lunch enjoying everyone’s favorite vegetable, individual Tony’s pizzas, the contents of which were about 80% grease to 20% pizza-like substance. My classmates and I knew to accompany our meal with a hearty helping of paper towels, used to sop up the veritable lakes of grease that pooled in the center of our pizza. However, in terms of grease content, Sbarro makes Domino’s taste like that Amy’s organic pizza crap.

Observe dat sheen.

Foodies, I will advocate for an abundance of salt and cheese and fat until the day I die (or am stricken with diabetes or heart problems*). But grease is something else entirely. Don’t get me wrong: I love the post-Papaya-Dog-corndog glow of grease on my fingertips as much as anything else in this world. But there is a difference between a light mist of overabundance and a freaking torrential downpour of the stuff.

Yes, I ate my pizza, though even as I enjoyed the bursts of spice in the pepperoni, the gooeyness of the cheese, I regretted what I was doing. I regretted it more later, as I struggled to read my book on the plane amidst moments of strong self-loathing, hot flashes and stomach cramps. However, I didn’t regret the pizza itself as much as I regretted…the butter stick.

No...I don't mean "bread stick." I mean "butter stick."

Depending on the time of day/your level of sobriety, the above picture will make you feel very strongly in one way or another. To me, completely sober at 11AM on a Wednesday morning, the above picture makes me shudder. The butter stick was adorned with bread, soft and vaguely painful to the teeth in a way I’m not quite sure I can describe. The butter/oil made my lips glisten, and I’m fairly certain I developed three pimples from one bite alone.

Some might assume that due to the level of grease and fat, Sbarro would make a perfect hangover cure. In fact, I would argue the opposite. Although SOME grease/fat/carbs is good for nursing your body after a night of three glasses of wine (WELCOME TO MY WORLD, MAN), too much can be…horrifying.

In conclusion: the next time I’m in LaGuardia’s Terminal C, I’ll try to swallow my strange aversion and go for the pretzel instead. And for the sake of your stomach, your sense of self-worth and your fellow passengers on whatever flight you’re taking / the other shoppers at the mall (srsly, where else do you find Sbarro?)…I’d suggest you do the same.

Related posts:

BREAKING: Sbarro – Go Gentle Into that Good NightSpinach & Feta Pizza | Domino’sAll I Want for Christmas is a Domino’s Watch

Briana Severson is a fast food aficionado and graduate of NYU with a degree in Abnormal Psychology & Creative Writing. A South Carolina native, Severson spends her days pining for Zaxby's spicy fried mushrooms and her nights sleeping.

Care Remedies