Exists.
One of the benefits of owning this Web site — apart from remaining out of shape, and having the opportunity to write things that up to 30 people will see — is having the extra incentive to try places I’d never been before. Without this domain being in my possession, I’d probably just eat at Lisa’s a shitload… or drunkenly stumble over to Zayna’s to consume a greasy cheese Za I’d immediately forget eating until I noticed my tits jiggle when I walked to my car the following morning.
Fortunately, Doctors of Za allows me (well, all of us) an outlet to document travels to pizzerias in our new metropolitan homes, honor the provincial pies of our native townships, and even make note of some tucked away gems scattered around the state.
And sometimes I get to write about fledgling, out of the way semi-chains that specialize in BBQ, but still feature pizzas both tasty and fattening enough to kill customers 10 times over via explosions of both the ass and heart. Places like the department store-adjacent Charcoal Grill & Rotisserie in Grafton, WI — one of nine Badger State locations to offer reluctant patrons “your official backyard barbecue” in a log cabin meets sports bar meets Bennington’s abortion gone awry-type setting.
Of course, Charcoal Grill & Rotisserie in Grafton, WI is never one’s intended destination. I’m pretty sure Grafton’s motto is something along the lines of, “No, just keep on 43 for a bit longer … it’s not too much further.” Rather, one’s arrival at this restaurant takes equal parts navigational short-sight, national holiday (other) restaurant closure, and youthful wanderlust. On this fateful day, Grafton just so happened to be the halfway point for an impromptu meeting (er, meating) between Mozza-Fella and myself.
After our hostess thrice made the hilarious point of telling us she was taking us to the “VIP Booth” — I get it, because it’s just another meaningless place to sit in the basically empty restaurant?!? — we VIPs settled in for VIP meal. VIP is an accronym for “Very Into Protein”, right? We perrused the menu and, deciding the subtraction of 2-3 days off our lives was worth it, settled on The Charcoal Burger Pizza.
THE GOOD: This amalgamation of ground chuck, BBQ sauce, bacon, onions and cheddar cheese tasted like boobs feel. The sauce is sweet and tangy, but the salty and wood stone charred meat countered perfectly. There were two types of onions on the pizza too — grilled onions and those fried onion strands you find on that green bean casserole that’s sometimes served at Thanksgiving.
The portions were more than generous, as everything was heaped atop a submissive slat of pizza crust that buckled beneath the sheer weight (and greasiness) of the topping load. The two of us didn’t even attempt to finish the 14” pizza. For a specialty pizza of that size, the $15 price was as easy to swallow as our first bites. They have seven other surprisingly unique specialty pizzas too.
THE BAD: I have to say, it’s just too greasy. Don’t get me wrong, I envision one day pulling an Irv Favre (dying of a heart attack while driving) as much as the next Midwestern man does, but not at 25 years old. I feel like they went a tad overboard on the amount of fried onion strands as well as ground chuck. As we lifted slices of the pizza on to our plates, we could literally see the floor through both the pizza pan and our table. It’s a great pizza, but it’s the kind of Za you could (and for Christ’s sake, should) only have once every few months — if ever. Call me crazy, but I’d prefer to not need a shower after eating pizza.
The "VIP booth" ... I guess.
Beyond that, the restaurant is in the middle of nowhere, the atmosphere is dick, and that weird VIP booth joke got old really fucking fast… which is to say, on its first telling.
TRY: A specialty pizza. With pizza options like Spicy Thai Chicken, Chicken Cordon Bleu, The Picasso and the afore-mentioned Charcoal Burger, among others, why bother with ribs and steak? Though I suppose, if you end up at a place like this, your heart is probably set on ribs or steak… and is likely to collapse in the not-so-distant future.
RATING: Meh.
