Apparently there was to be some sort of competition between nine local pizza makers: Tenuta’s, Marchese’s Olive Pit, Classic Slice, Marco’s, Steny’s, Times Square, Vinchi’s, Mama DeMarini’s, and Moct (which apparently serves food now).

From what we could tell, it was supposed to start at 7. We didn’t get there until almost 8 PM, and there wasn’t a sight or smell of za in the place. Instead of ditching out, we grabbed a few $2 bottles of High Life and decided to wait it out.

Sure enough, the pizzas started rolling in about 8:30 and this complete clusterfuck of an event was getting under way. Some guy mumbled something into a microphone and people started lining up to sample some slices.

Of course there wasn’t enough pizza to go around and it was gone in about five minutes, but we did manage to snag samples from four of the nine varieties. Here are some shitty haikus to explain:

Moct
Seriously, dude
Can I get some fucking ‘za
With all this onion?

Marco’s
Toppings are freshest
Spit out a whole olive pit
What the fuck is that?

Steny’s
Looks like a fetus
Dried out in the summer sun
Tasted delicious

(T. Mario busts in and throws Ronnie’s poetry book to the ground)

“Moct” is a Serbian word for bridge. In Milwaukee, it means over-hyped bar I’ll probably only go to when there’s free pizza and $2 Miller bottles. Ronnie — even in his sick and cough syrup addled state — was majorly balls deep in this idea, so I was glad to accompany him to Moct’s first (and probably last) annual Iron Pizza Competition.

As he said, the event had worse organization and more gaps than Hands Across America meets an anorexia clinic bake sale, but I managed to snag four slices to review.

Moct
Unlike Ronnie, I actually liked Moct’s cheese, sausage and onion pizza. I was surprised to how, unlike the bar bearing the pizza’s namesake, I didn’t die a little while in this Moct. It tasted like there was cream cheese in the sauce. For a bar (with no food menu), Moct wasn’t the “Leact” tasty pizza available.

Vinchi’s
Before everything oh-so-predictably ran out, I got my mits on a square of Vinchi’s works pizza. It was greasy and aggressive… like a pizza Andrew W.K. or something. But they lost points for using canned mushrooms. Canned mushrooms?!? I thought we were at Moct in Milwaukee – a bar named after a Serbian word for bridge. I didn’t know we were actually eating pizza under a Serbian bridge. Not bad, Vinchi’s, but freshen those shrooms up.

Classic Slice

Just fucking with you. Classic Slice, like most of the others, was gone within five minutes of the contest. Read my full review of Classic Slice if you’re really interested.

Steny’s
I don’t know what Ronnie was talking about with his Steny’s haiku. It didn’t look like any of the half dozen sun-dried fetuses (feti?) I’ve ever seen. Sure 20 minutes of solitude left the pizza dry and cold, but it was a colorful blend of bright red from the roasted red peppers, to flowery light green of the artichoke hearts, to the dove white cheese. Overall: Pretty good under its time-dried state of being eaten while standing up in a loud bar with hundreds of people up in my shit.

Marco’s
At the end of the night, I placed my Iron Pizza vote in favor of Marco’s.

My reasoning:
• Largest slices
• Most toppings
• Seem to hold up the best in the lukewarm state such a competition brings about.
• Tasted good.
• Made Ronnie spit out an olive pit and yell “What the fuck was that?” Classic.

We have no idea who actually won this thing. When the pizza was gone, so were we. But no matter who officially won this poorly-organized contest , I think the real winners were the people who got to try less-than-glowing representations of local za for free. And Moct for thinking of a good reason for people to come to Moct.

Beyond baseball’s opening day, open bars at weddings, and things I’ve put off until my thirties like marriage and kids (rhythm method forbid), nothing I do really evokes that sense of passion, longing and anticipation I routinely felt when I was younger. Maybe I’ve learned not to expect much from the world, or maybe I’m just a realist.

I’m not sure exactly why, but I looked forward to eating at Classic Slice.

I was first exposed to this Bay View restaurant when I stumbled on their MySpace page. I can’t recall exactly when that was, but taking the “MySpace page” aspect of the memory into account, it was probably around two years ago. What sparked my interest was the shear enormity of the slices, and the near infinite onslaught of available toppings didn’t hurt either.

After a seemingly endless ride down KK into the heart of Bay View, an even longer wait to shove a hot Classic Slice slice in my mouth was about to end. Walking into the near empty eatery was like the scene in Jurassic Park when they first see the island from the helicopter. I was into it.

The words on the chalkboard left of the counter were that of significant scripture. Toppings like: Fresh mushrooms, spinach, vegan sausage, peperoni, tomato pieces, bacon, feta cheese, peppers — and so many more made my knees weak and my inseam tight. I didn’t know what to get, but figuring I’d make Classic Slice an integral part of my Cactus Club speed-sobriety plan, I decided to listen to my heart on this, my virgin experience.

Turns out my heart is an asshole.

I went with fresh mushrooms and tomatoes on my slice. The massive slice lived up to its billing, big enough to serve as a makeshift blanket for a premature baby. But I wasn’t impressed with the portions of either topping. If I knew I’d be getting four mushroom pieces and a third of a gimp Roma tomato, I would’ve just gone with extra cheese or ordered two slices.

THE GOOD: The sauce. Holy shit, I liked the sauce. It’s a thick, magically zesty and flavorful combination. It was the sauce equal of what I imagine getting a blumpkin to be like. The cheese was slightly greasy, but in a good way. For those not into grease, Ronnie’s spinach and feta slice didn’t look too bad, so maybe not being topping raped by mushroom and tomato is the way to go.

THE BAD: Beyond the scant toppings, it’s a bit pricey. Each topping is 55 cents, so two slices with two toppings apiece comes in around $11. Again, if you got 55 cents worth of your preferred topping, it’s well worth it. But $11 for $8.50 worth of pizza (and no drinks) is like what I imagine giving a blumpkin to be like.

TRY: Vegan sausage. I’m no longer a vegetarian, but I’m always interested in trying vegan alternatives. That’s on my radar for next time, along with the feta – which seemed to be adequately portioned.

I liked Classic Slice, but just like your birthday, that highly-anticipated follow-up to your favorite band’s best album, and most anything else, its not worth getting worked up over. Is it Opening Day yet?

Rating: 91.7