I Tried the Subway Flatizza. It Was Everything You'd Expect and More.

Due to overwhelming demand (and my own natural curiosity) I finally broke down and tried a product that’s made a lot of headlines lately—Subway’s new pizza concoction, the “Flatizza.”

In recent weeks, we’ve reported on an alarming rash of Flatizza-related crime and general human shittiness. My interest as a journalist was piqued. Also, my editor told me if I didn’t stop submitting articles called “Things That Burt Reynolds Would Look Cool Wearing” she would send me to work in the mail room for the rest of the year.

It’s interesting to me in just the short time this product has been available, it has inspired not one but TWO viral news stories. This is unprecedented in the blogging news business, at least not during such a short time span. Even Chicken McNugget related crime had a window of three years. So what’s up with the Flatizza? Why is it inspiring people to act like total assholes? I had to know more.

I wasn’t alone. For all the issues surrounding the two news stories I’ve written about this product so far, most of the people simply wanted to know “WTF IS A FLATIZZA OMG AHHHH KILL IT KILL IT WITH FIRE.” People were more terrified about the existence of this food item than when we reported on that horrifying tumor with teeth.

The first thing you should know about it is the people at Subway relentlessly insist on calling it a “Flatizza.” The re-purposed sandwich artist preparing it for you will absolutely not refer to it as anything other than a “Flatizza.” Which seems fine and normal for a company trying to brand a product the first few times you hear it. Then it kind of gets weird and turns all Manchurian Candidate.

“What meat would you like on your Flatizza?” “Would you like extra cheese on your Flatizza?” “What kind of veggies would you like on your Flatizza?” “Will you be having your Flatizza to go or dine-in?”

THE FLATIZZA IS YOUR FRIEND. EMBRACE THE FLATIZZA. DO NOT THINK NEGATIVE THOUGHTS ABOUT THE FLATIZZA. THE FLATIZZA CARES ABOUT YOU. DO NOT TRUST ANYONE BUT THE FLATIZZA.

When I went to pay, despite the fact that she was handed a mini-pizza box that literally reads “FLATIZZA” across the top, the cashier still asked me “and what did you order?” IT’S LIKE SUBWAY IS TRYING TO FORCE US TO SAY IT.

Look. I’m not calling this fucking thing a “Flatizza.” That word is never, ever coming out of my mouth. Ever. I don’t care what insidious torture Subway tries to subject me to—waterboarding, imprisoning me in a dungeon, releasing another marketing campaign centered around Jared. Doesn’t matter. It is not happening. I will gladly write the word here, but in my day to day life it’s just a mini pizza thing. I will maybe grant you “flatbread pizza.” But that’s it. That’s where I’m drawing the line, Subway.

I ordered the veggie one, prepared just the way they advertise it on their website. Below are my findings:

It’s basically the kind of pizza you would make if you were high and desperate for pizza but all you have is a leftover salad from McDonald’s, a jar of spaghetti sauce and a box of crackers. I’m not exaggerating for comedic effect.
The bread tastes OK.
The sauce is terrible. I now completely understand how a person would call the police over this product. I wanted to call the SWAT team and have a negotiator talk the flavor off of my tongue. A commenter told me to ask for Sriracha under the cheese, but I forgot. That may have made it better. I don’t know.
The toppings are fine—because you cannot go wrong with melting cheese and assorted veggies together. If you take an old album cover that’s been in a box in your moldy basement for 15 years, sprinkle some cheese and veggies on it and melt it all in oven that shit is going to taste delicious. Or at least part of it is.
It was fucking gross.
I immediately wanted to eat two or three more.

There you have it, the definitive Jezebel Flatizza report. Hopefully, this product won’t be at the center of anymore alarming news reports and I will never have to eat one again. Except I’m probably going to totally eat one again.