LaClair: Life, pizza, and other things

It was just before 4 p.m. on a typically busy holiday season day. I was in Cape Girardeau, and except for the coffee I had had that morning and a few glasses of water, my stomach hadn’t had anything in it all day. An article was due. I had waited too long once again, and I was closing in on maddeningly hungry, when the brain stops working correctly and the body is just incessantly demanding food. I flipped through my stash of foodie article ideas. Closed on Monday. Closed on Monday. Closed on Monday. Place after place of delectable food establishments closed on Mondays. It’s easy to get frustrated with this business practice, but I know darn good and well it’s my own fault. Poor time management, aka procrastination, is a character flaw that I accept and live with, but wow. Sometimes it gets me.

All that complaining aside, I ended up going to the new location of Papa John’s in Cape at 1707 North Mount Auburn Road to eat. The restaurant is nestled behind the newest McDonald’s on North Kingshighway.

I was expecting a couple of little tables inside, kind of like the old place, but I could see through the windows before I even walked in that I had miscalculated. I walked in anyway. The place was pristine and still smelled like new construction, that slightly cardboard and plaster hint of new drywall combined with the gentle sterile chemical sting of new paint. The new space was tiny, just enough to stand in and order, and there wasn’t even a menu hanging yet. I could tell right away that this was a pickup/delivery destination, mostly catering to online orders, but I didn’t have the patience to download and navigate the app right then, so I just ordered at the register. The gentleman who helped me was exceedingly nice, waiting for just a second while I looked at the menu online. I made a decision, ordered a variety of things, and went back to wait in my car while my order was cooking. I looked across the driveway at McDonald’s and seriously contemplated grabbing a sandwich. I was just about done waiting for food, but this was a situation of my own making, and I almost felt like I needed to suffer a little. Maybe I wouldn’t crowd in too much like this again, or maybe I just wouldn’t do it so extremely. So I waited.

Fifteen minutes later, the food was done, and I was driving home. I wanted a piece of pizza in my hand while I drove, I really did, but I waited. Fifteen minutes later again, I was home. I ripped a piece of pizza out of the box and took an embarrassingly big bite, and then had to set the food out for a picture. Satisfied with what I had, I grabbed a plate and a bit of everything, and finally, finally stopped waiting to eat.

I’d ordered Garlic Parmesan Wings, Chicken Parmesan Papa Bites, a ham pizza, and a sausage pizza. Let’s start with the wings. The sauce on the wings was flavorful, just a great combination of butter, garlic and Parmesan. The wings themselves were cooked just right, and honestly, I was pleasantly surprised at how good they were. My husband agreed, and he was not as ravenously hungry as I was. I would, however, respectfully ask Papa John’s to let their chickens grow just a little bit more before harvesting their wings.

The Chicken Parmesan Papa Bites were little rolls of pizza dough stuffed with cubed chicken, a little sauce, and Parmesan, and served with pizza sauce for dipping on the side. After the flavor of the wings, these little roll ups just didn’t hit the taste buds the same. I’d probably skip these and just get it on a pizza if I wanted those flavors again.

And the pizza, well, it was as dependable as it has always been. Papa John’s original crust is thick and doughy, very yeasty, and I rather enjoy it, especially with the complementary garlic butter dip. The sauce here has always been polarizing, with some people loving the sweet thick sauce, and some people hating it. I love it. If I could choose bits of a pizza from each place and make my perfect pizza, I’d take the sauce from here first.

Don’t forget to slow down, breathe and appreciate this season. We’ll be breathing together.

Rebecca LaClair travels to a new place every week to try food from a trendy restaurant or one she hasn’t been to ... yet.