62. Godfather’s

Brooklyn Park, Minnesota

If you’ve had the misfortune of reading this blog long enough to start detecting trends, you may have noticed that I gravitate towards a thinner crust, allowing the cheese, sauce and toppings to play hero. It’s not that crust is unimportant; it’s actually the foundation of a good pizza and its role is vital, but it should never hog the spotlight. But as the photo attests, Godfather’s crust is the undisputed star of this show. That crust is every bit as impenetrable as the fortress of Helm’s Deep, and it might take 10,000 orcs to compromise its wall. And yet it has somehow inched toward the (lower) middle of these rankings. I suspect several readers know and share my complicated relationship with Godfather’s.

Even though Godfather’s is clearly below-average, I’ve probably consumed more from this franchise than any other place in the world. Which again begs the question: how can this be?

The answer is nostalgia. It was the unofficial home to the forefather of Polo Grounds Baseball, the Mayflower League. Every other Saturday night from April through October, our group of 6-8 gathered in the “backroom” and conducted league business. The pizza and beverages flowed freely, and for more than a decade, we were the orcs, devouring any pizza that had the misfortune of crossing our path. Some back-of-the-napkin math would suggest we dined there over 100 times, which even by my standards, seems ridiculous. I wasn’t present every single time, but…sheesh.

I went back to record a podcast several years ago, and only then did I realize that there’s not much need for Godfather’s any longer. We’ve discovered many superior options, but I suppose that for old time’s sake. I might drop in every decade or so, but I’ll need to bring along my orcs and grand-orcs.