Whenever I pick up a pizza, unless it’s from a major chain, there’s a good chance that it comes to me in a box that looks like this:
I have so much to say about this design I don’t know where to begin. Frankly, I’m not sure how an image this weird became the industry standard. Plus Noah Dunham tells me that he’s seen the boxes not just in Portland but in New York City: Pizza Capital of the USA!
When companies produce things for mass consumption that strike me as undeniably bizarre I become obsessive, meticulously listing everything that puts me off. Bear with me while I exorcise this train of thought out of my system (or scroll down to a blog post of substance).
Most of the problems here stem from the fact that these two chefs work in a kitchen where proportion and perspective hold no authority. We are apparently looking through a window with a bottom sill that doubles as a kitchen counter. I am assuming it’s a window because on the right the peppers and mushrooms disappear behind the wall, yet on the left planes collide MC Escher-style as the bricks abruptly transform into the side of an oven. Judging by the placement of the shelf, the bottom half of that oven is either disappearing into the floor or the shelf itself only begins at head-level.
We see the shelves themselves as if we were looking down at them, but only the enormous cans on the top shelf are seen from the same perspective. Because they’re lower, we should be able to see into the boxes of grapefruit-sized onions and tomatoes, but they’re head-on. Then there’s the bottle of olive oil that somehow retains the same proportions as the one on the counter.
The chefs themselves appear to be from two different worlds. The one in the foreground, eyes closed, blissfully enjoying a delicious moment with his rolling pin, has a relatively human face. The chef behind him has must have crawled out of a Popeye comic somewhere, boasting enormous ears, knife-holes for eyes, a wedge for a nose and a concave dent under his lizard mouth instead of a chin. Is this why his uniform only has three buttons on it and no awesome “Qualite” badge?
Proportion and perspective aside, it’s the little things that really bug me about this image. Why did the artist put so much care into the mouth of the oven, giving it a keystone and different-sized bricks, but draw two stumps for the chef’s legs and call it good? Why not draw one line to differentiate the floor from the wall instead of giving the chef’s jaunty scarves?
In short: what’s the fucking deal with this pizza box? Who designed it? Where can I see more of their work? Do they have these boxes everywhere? Are there other pizza boxes that even come close to being this weird?
Rocket Pizza on NE 42nd uses these boxes. I bet they would tell you where they buy them from, so you can begin your investigation.
Also, what kind of pizza has swiss cheese on it?
Why’s the persepective of the boxes on the shelves different from the shelves themselves? Are they boxes taller on one side than the other?
Those sausages have always made me uncomfortable.
You assholes are ruining my delicious moment!
Would somebody at the Mercury *please* send Dave out on an assignment? City council meeting, dog show, doesn’t matter, any assignment will do…
@Tommy
Just let me finish counting the lines in my hand first.
What that box and the pizza it contains does *not* offer is “Love for Women.” Unlike the redoubtable Mr. Pizza in Seoul, South Korea:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/toddmecklem/3…
This is probably my favorite article ever written on Blogtown. I want a clean one of these boxes to hang on my wall as art.
I used to live in Japan, and the phrase “enjoy your delicious moments” reads like bad Japanese ad copy. It consists of four words that anyone with middle-school level English would understand, uses the verb “enjoy” which Japanese media seems immoderately fond of, and reeks of being a pasted-on English slogan plastered there to Westernize a given product.
I find it highly, highly likely that this thing originated across the Pacific. If it didn’t, I’d be very surprised, and I’d enjoy a surprising moment.
Just moved to Davis, CA from Portland (so sad, so sad) and we have those boxes here. I hadn’t seen them before a month ago, so I thought maybe they were special to the Greek pizza joint we go to, but I’m excited they are a larger phenomenon. I have no problem with delicious moments, in fact, I would enjoy having every moment be a delicious moment.
Booyah, solved it!
Seth Stambaugh was the model for the pizza oven chef. (Look at his profile shot in the story below this one)
And you’re welcome.
Is it a coincidence that this post was made shortly after 4:20?
How long until that image shows up as an ironic scenester T-shirt?
I can’t help but think that if the text read: “Enjoy this deliciously surreal image !” we wouldn’t be reading this post.