Some Genius in LA Is Selling Weed Pizzas

Weed and pizza, man. Two great tastes that taste great together. Both symbiotically improve the other, so why has it taken this long to combine them? That is, at least, what I assume led the good people at Stoned Oven Gourmet Edibles to create their handmade frozen medicinal pizzas. I say assume because after a call to a number that went straight to a message about a full voicemail box, one-sided Facebook correspondence, and even an attempt at a Google+ hangout, I never heard back from them. This may mean that they aren’t looking for any more press (they did an interview with LA Weekly in which the creator of the pies actually said, "We want to be able to get a deal with hospitals… We can [treat] cancer with pizzas!"). The other option, which I gather is true based on the previous quote, is that their product simply works too well for them to be able to use a phone.

Undeterred, my friend Cornell and I went to one of the many dispensaries in Los Angeles that stock the personal pizzas to try one for ourselves. Since my weed card is expired, Cornell had to make the buy. While he chilled watching Pain & Gain in an air-conditioned lounge and bought legal drugs, I fucking sweated it out in the LA heat-wave nightmare.

When he inquired about the pizza, the lady behind the counter perked up and asked him if he had heard about it on the news. Cornell was already a little high, so he just said yes. She then asked the dreaded follow-up question: “What news station?” To which he flatly stated that he had heard it from me. They stopped talking, but not before the lady at the counter implored him to “never eat the whole thing.”

Ominous warning behind us, we went back to my sweat lodge of a home. Our mission? To oven-bake and eat a dairy-based drug food on one of the hottest days on record. Why? To inform and enlighten, and because the editors at VICE are goddamn animals.

After about 15 minutes in the oven, the pizza was ready. It sort of looked like it was smiling, but maybe that was wishful hallucinating. Cornell asked me if the green herbs dotting the buttery ("bud-ery" LOL) crust were oregano or weed. This may be the only time I was expecting weed but would’ve been glad to see my ol’ pal oregano.

Upon first bite, we quickly realized that we were just eating a fucking frozen pizza. This wasn’t a scenario where we were combining the best pizza from the Bronx with the dankest shit from Humboldt. To be fair, it was way better than DiGornio, which is pretty impressive. I’ve never said that any edible tasted better than something that was just trying to taste good and not get you high. It just didn’t bombard your mouth with weed flavor. It looked good, too. Big ol’ tomato slice staring you in the face, ooey-gooey kushy cheese, and it also had a crust. The crust—it was pretty bud-ery, but it tasted like halfway-decent festival food. No matter how much weed you stuff in it, you’re just not supposed to freeze a pizza. Also, Cornell said his slice had a slight citronella aftertaste.

Here’s the big problem with the pizza: It is insanely strong. One personal pizza has 250 mg of weed. For those of you who have never combined eating narcotics and math before, High Times recommends about 25 mgs per dose of edibles to have a safe, good time. To put that into layman’s terms, that means that even cutting this tiny pizza into eighths might lead you to pass out in the nearest bed, too afraid to even watch The Simpsons, because what if they’re real?

They recommend cutting it into quarters, but I had shit to do that day, so I stuck with the eighth. Luckily, Cornell was there to be my Weedvel Knievel, so he ate a full fourth, taking over double the pseudo-scientifically suggested dose.

We waited about 45 minutes, and then we just got hungry—y’know, for fucking pizza. There, my friends, is the rub. You get so little pizza that you’re immediately just in the mood for pizza that you cannot eat without giving yourself a drug-fueled existential crisis. It is definitely not meant for two boys to eat on a Tuesday afternoon in a non-air conditioned house by themselves. It’s either for people who love weed and can eat an entire 250 mg of it, or for people who hate pizza and want to get high but cannot smoke or eat chocolate.

We started to feel a little loopy, and we knew it was kicking in because we realized we’d been talking about outer space for ten minutes. It’s a really chill high, very silly, and not too intense. I felt no sign of all the edible-related bad times I’ve had, or stories of people wanting to go to the hospital and puking. Of all the edibles I’ve eaten, these have a great everyday practicality. Like someone turned up the contrast in your brain, everything is just a little more colorful.

Good vibes aside, we still felt unsatisfied. We were now high, smelling pizza, and unable to eat any more pizza. We finally acquiesced and went to Garage Pizza, a great local spot, for a slice. It was perfect.

Basically, Stoned Oven Gourmet’s weed pizza is the perfect thing to eat if you wanna be high in an hour and go get some pizza.

Follow Josh Androsky and Cornell Reid on Twitter.