Pizza Hut was the best location for lunch at high school. It was virtually a cheap pizza party each week. We would always compete to see the person capable of downing 12 slices, pasta, bread sticks and as much Mountain Dew as possible in a very limited amount of time. Sure the pizza wasn't great, but it was the only joint offering a buffet of pizza... so it was more than good enough.
Since high school, I have frequented Pizza Hut less and less. Maybe it started with obnoxious menu item, "P'Zone". I think it had more to do with valuing my calorie intake with higher quality and better tasting heart attack inducing sustenance.
Yesterday, I jogged my way back to 1993... those wonderful school days of scarfing down food in a pizza trough. Pizza Hut!!
Gone are the days I could be carefree enough to gorge on 12+ slices of pie. When you're in your late 30's, moderation is regrettably key.
The restaurant is full sized (like the junk in my trunk following the feast). It was clean and well-maintained. I was seated immediately. The pleasant server came within a minute and smiled while she paved the way to rekindling my glutinous memories of the pizza days of yore.
The restaurant was very busy and the pizza was well-stocked with so many varieties. Off the top of my head there was a thin crust cheese and pan versions of; barbecue, supreme, sausage and 'shroom and many more. There was also some cheesy alfredo pasta dish, cheese bread and cinnamon and cherry dessert streusel pizza.
The flavor of the conveyor belt pizza was pretty much the same as it ever was. This location was better than most because the pies were hot, not rushed through the pizza assembly line (in other locations, I have been issues with goopy under-cooked dough).
The buffet was unbelievably cheap - $7 or so. I believe in 1993 it was $5.49 or
$5.99, so the price point is very friendly to their customers.
As far as my ability to eat vs. my former self... it was no contest. Yesterday, I ended up that I was only comfortable snagging water, six slices, a scoop of pasta and no cheesy bread or dessert. Of course the 17/18 year-old-me would have openly mocked and ridiculed me for being a wuss.