Pie in the Sky

When Kraft and California Pizza Kitchen meet to design a new frozen pizza, the negotiations can get subtle and intense: Cut down the oregano, bring up the Parmesan, add zingy kalamata olives, think up a snappy slogan—give the public what it wants next

By Jonathan Black

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Such concerns are not on the minds of the Kraft team gathered bright and early this morning for another tasting, this one at the CPK restaurant at the Westfield Old Orchard mall. It's 8 a.m., hours before the restaurant opens, but the CPK chefs have been toiling since dawn. Flax has not made the trip, but CPK is represented again by Brian Sullivan, the vice president of culinary development. The Kraft team includes Mulder, naturally, and the senior research chef, Pszybylski, who introduces the first offering, a cheese bubbler that's laden with thin- and thick-sliced pepperoni.

Sullivan shakes his head. He hasn't even tasted it yet. "The thick pepperoni's too fat. It looks like sausage. Consumers can't relate to fat pepperoni."

He's happier with the next offering, a "four-cheese platform" with thin pepperoni atop a blend of mozzarella, Fontina, Parmesan, and smoked Gouda.

"It's got depth," offers Mulder.

"I like the flavor," Sullivan says. "Maybe pump up the Gouda."

Nobody likes the Three Cheese with Fat Pepperoni. The Premium Pepperoni gets

a thumbs-up.

"Definitely some back heat," says Sullivan. "It's the onion I'm pulling out. I'm not sure about the raw white. Maybe grill or roast it first."

"Can we review the sauce?" Mulder asks.

"Good point," says Sullivan. "The bigger vegetable units are more CPK. You get the quality clues."

It takes 40 minutes to declare a winner. The favorite is a mix of the "artisan" pepperoni and the "all-American" pepperoni.

"So the Double Pepperoni," sums up Pszybylski.

Sullivan thinks. "Pepperoni Duo?"

"I like it," says Mulder.

Late in the summer, my curiosity bursting, I return to Kraft's Glenview headquarters. This time Mulder and I meet in the atrium just outside the company store, where employees get discounts of up to 50 percent on a staggering variety of Kraft products. Who knew that Kraft owned Belgian Chocolate and Tazo Tea?

Mulder is buoyant. He shows me the big yellow CPK box with the words mediterranean style across the top. Turns out that Flax prevailed; they took down the olives and dropped the seasoning a notch.

"We think it's great," says Mulder.

"Of course."

CPK is all about ingredients, which Mulder demonstrates by pointing to the new CPK box for the Mediterranean. "Amazingly detailed" is how he describes the picture: the sliced olive perfectly positioned to show the wound where the pit was extracted; the tiny chunk of eggplant embedded to reveal both skin and interior. Lean close and you can even spot the atomic flecks of seasoning.

"And this isn't even high-resolution yet," says Mulder.

The Kraft marketers had also produced a set of "clings"—the 3-D promo cardboards that are stuck on freezer doors. There are three possible tag lines: "Shout ‘Oopah!' for Mediterranean Flavor"; "No Passport Required"; and "Flavor That Might Just Inspire a Belly Dance." Mulder admits that the "No Passport" option doesn't work; it says nothing about ingredients. I volunteer that "Belly Dance," to me, evokes the Middle East—not the Mediterranean. Which leaves "Oopah!" which I always thought was spelled "O-pah!" and makes me think of Greece, where they don't eat much pizza. Apparently, Kraft thought the same thing and ended up going a different route: "The Flavor That's All Greek to You."

I'm being picky, of course. Like Mulder, I'm excited about the Mediterranean. So what if my kids don't like it? If it's a hit in the freezer, then CPK will likely introduce it in its restaurants, and then Mulder and his team will have plenty to please their CEO, Rosenfeld.

But what of the "in-and-out"? Cooler heads, thankfully, have prevailed. The pizza is in, but the "fat pepperoni" is out. It was actually a sausage—linguiça, by name—and was tossed because, as Mulder puts it, nobody knew what it was. A new pepperoni, different from the "base pepperoni," is on track to replace it.

I leave Kraft with a renewed faith in the individual. Here in Glenview, merchandising is more than a bunch of anonymous focus groups. It's the personal palate that can make a difference. Harry Balzer could be dead right about the new. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll even see a CPK box with the polarizing artichoke. Then my kids will really have something to gripe about.