Pizza Hut Classic: “Wholesome” Nostalgia vs. “Newstalgia”

Today wasn’t the first time I’d ventured out in search of a specific pizza. Back in 2015, some friends and I trekked to one of the last McDonald’s still serving “McPizza.” This time, however, the pie I was looking for wasn’t as rare. Pizza Hut’s menu options can be found in ubiquitous locations across the world. From where I’m sitting right now, there’s over a dozen within driving and delivery distance. What I wanted to find today was something more…sentimental. Something that the global pizza conglomerate is happy to play up in their marketing efforts, but doesn’t really offer in any tangible sense. Unless you know where to look. So, stick with me for a bit, because this story goes beyond just the simple joy of stuffed crust.

In early 2021, comedian Craig Robinson began appearing in a series of Pizza Hut commercials. The campaign, created by Austin based agency GSD&M, was dubbed “newstalgia.” In various television spots, Robinson breaks the fourth wall and appeals directly to the viewer’s pizza pangs of the past. Per GSD&M’s description, the commercials were just one aspect of a larger strategy: 

“GSD&M and Pizza Hut got to work by bringing back everything that people loved about Pizza Hut in the first place—their logo, their font and package design, red cups, Tiffany lamps, videogames, music—all the things in their classic-brand DNA.”

“It was about honoring what made Pizza Hut famous in the first place. We put a new spin on Stuffed Crust, created merch that strategically tied into their iconic pizzas and even reimagined the Pizza Hut gaming experience of the ’80s by taking PAC-MAN out of their restaurants and delivering it to millions of customers with playable augmented reality.”

The set dressing of Robinson’s commercials is familiar to anyone who ever dined within a Pizza Hut during what was arguably the chain’s most prolific era of the late 70s to late 90s. The Pizza Hut that I (and so many others) grew up with was one of buffets, birthday parties, and end of season sports banquets (the kinds where participation trophies were handed out by the same adults who’d later bemoan them). These were the brick-and-mortar locations with trapezoid windows, slanted roofs, checkered table clothes, red vinyl booths, and stained glass lamps that illuminated the pipping hot pizza being served in a hot skillet. 

Boomer, Gen-X, Millenial, or any other demographic between those—it doesn’t matter. Odds are, you at least knew of this era of Pizza Hut even if you never ate at one. The corporate directive to construct franchise locations in a defined, physically specific manner created a brand identity that went well beyond just a logo or wordmark. Even after Pizza Hut began abandoning the buildings of their heyday, it was easy to look at a structure and just know what its past life had been. The “used to be a Pizza Hut” notion spawned a popular (and wonderful) website of the same name, but even before that, The Onion had a classic May 2000 “News in Photos” headline: “You Can Tell Area Bank Used To Be A Pizza Hut.” Even in one of my own photographic series, Suburbia Lost, abandoned “huts” have made multiple appearances.

Our world became dotted with the company’s once iconic, now mostly forgotten, pizza parlors due to a shift in strategy. As delivery and take-out became more of a priority, Pizza Hut franchises moved to locations that were geared towards the consumer who’d be bringing their food home. Newer locations usually offer little to no seating, serving simply as small storefronts with less overhead. With this strategic shift came an updated emblem that saw the erasure of the classic “red roof” logo. The dozen or so locations that I mentioned earlier: they’re all located within strip malls or grocery stores, many labeled as the new age “Pizza Hut Express” brand. This is by far the most common variant found these days.

Nostalgia always has been, and always will be, something we hold dear as both consumers and human beings. When popular musical acts grow older and stop touring constantly, they take up residencies in Vegas. Whether it’s been Sinatra, Elvis, Britney, or Blink-182—the nostalgia factor grows as generations age. Often, we view the past through rose-colored glasses. Yesteryear usually seems better than the present. The 10th birthday I celebrated at a Pizza Hut is definitely fonder in my mind than the the 32nd I commemorated by going about life like it was any other day. The all powerful “brand” knows we’re susceptible to this. They’ve always relied on it. Always preyed on it. Like politicians, but with pepperoni and mozzarella. 

During the commercial breaks that pop up as you binge reruns of your favorite childhood sitcom, Craig Robinson will repeatedly appear within the confines of a classic Pizza Hut to warn you: “no one out pizza’s the hut.” For me personally, though, the nostalgia-laden advertisements don’t inspire me to call up my closest location. Rather, they make me think of the old Pizza Hut. That’s what I’d rather experience—a return to that, not mediocre delivery pizza.

Enter: “Underunderstood” and the saga of the “Pizza Hut Classic.”

Travis had tipped me off to this wonderful podcast. Whether he and I are rolling around the city we live in or off on some West Coast bender, he’s the kind of friend and fellow photographer who understands why it’s worth pulling over to document fast food relics. He knew that the show’s Season 5 finale would be the kind of thing I’d dig.

In “Pursuit and Pizza,” hosts Billy, Adrianne, Regina, and John attempt to answer a question: “why is it so hard to find a Pizza Hut Classic?” They also explain exactly what that is. I won’t spoil the whole episode, because it’s well worth your listening time, but some context is needed for the photographs that follow. 

A “Pizza Hut Classic” is essentially a Pizza Hut franchise that has stayed somewhat true to its roots. Soda still comes in those red cups, the lamps still hang from the ceiling, and the salad bar is still there. From the outside, you’d assume that these locations might still be accepting any 90s era “Book-It” coupons your parents still have laying around. However, “classic” doesn’t necessarily always mean “original.” As Underunderstood came to understand: many of these franchise locations had once undergone “modern” upgrades. They’d received new decor, embraced the then-new logo of the early 2000’s, and many were cobranded with the pizza company’s chicken subsidiary: “Wing Street.” Several even received cosmetic face lifts that retained the iconic roof, but ditched other hallmarks such as the iconic windows. 

Then, at some point, a few were rebranded once more. Certain locations turned back the clock: the lamps returned, tables were set with those picnic-style cloths, and the old logo was affixed to street facing signs with one notable change: these locations were now billed as “Pizza Hut Classic.” Journalist Rolando Pujol aptly dubbed these location updates as “retro renovations” both as a guest on the podcast and in his own writing.

The episode delves into some great research surrounding the costs and financial advantages of turning an older location into the “Classic” model (again, you can listen here), but a definitive corporate strategy isn’t clear. Rather, Pizza Hut itself doesn’t really seem to acknowledge the existence of an official list of Pizza Hut Classics. It’s not even something they really promote. What’s more, the concept came into existence well before the Craig Robinson advertising campaign. At the time of the podcast’s publishing in December 2021, internet sleuths had identified only 16 “classic” locations throughout the United States. 

Well, here’s number 17…: 

Georgetown, Ohio, about an hour East of Cincinnati—

Travis and I had some other plans today, but they fell through. With our schedules clear, we did what I assume most people would do with free time on a Saturday: set out in search of a Pizza Hut Classic. It’s sunny, but freezing, and rural Ohio isn’t as exciting as that time we traveled through the Mojave Desert only for Travis to have his shoes sacrificed to the Salton Sea. We’re in a good mood, though, and so is our server when we arrive. She’s incredibly friendly, but if I had to guess: probably way too young to remember Pizza Hut in its prime. Or not. While talking, it becomes clear that this specific restaurant is the only version of the chain she’s ever really known.

As someone with a record of patronizing Little Caesar’s, I’m not a pizza snob by any means, but I am very particular about what toppings I will accept. Thankfully, Travis is willing to acquiesce to my firm stance against mushrooms and olives as we order dine-in at a Pizza Hut for the first time in decades. 

We’re not the only ones here for a late lunch. A family waltzes in with kids, an older couple is holding hands a few booths behind us, and I can overhear the two men splitting a meal nearby. They seem to be surprised to have come across a “traditional” Pizza Hut while traveling through the area today. 

This location is slightly different from the ones that used to be found all across the world, however. It’s a bit smaller, there’s no sunroom, and if they ever had the iconic buffet—I’m not sure where they would’ve placed it. There is a salad bar, though—fully stocked and fresh—but who needs that when you’ve got a large pizza on the way?

Even though I have to remind Travis of the “proper” way to eat stuffed crust (at least according to the late 90s commercials of my youth), the food is good. Really good. I don’t chalk that up simply to youthful memories or just being in a halfway decent mood on this day—we got our money’s worth.

Over a table of pizza scraps and cameras, we chat with our server about why we’d set out to drive an hour to this Pizza Hut. The conversation continues between Travis and I as we discuss nostalgia. There’s something “wholesome” about this particular location. His word choice describes it perfectly. 

In my career, I’ve worked on a lot of marketing projects for various ventures. “Mission statements” are often just fluff and while Pizza Hut’s website touts some community values (the Book-It program is still going), the company’s main goal is to make money. The Craig Robinson campaign may be disjointed from the Pizza Hut Classic initiative, but it still worked. I still fell for it. Even as a cynic who’s tired of seeing theoe commercials (and will probably only get fed more thanks to internet algorithms and my recent search history for this story), I still ended up giving Pizza Hut my money.

But if “Pizza Hut Classics” started popping up everywhere, if new “retro restaurants” were constructed, would that work? I’m sure it would make money, but they’d be lacking the underlying authenticity. True nostalgia, not newstalgia—that’s what makes the Georgetown location special. “Wholesome” as Travis put it. It seems to exist as local spot rather than a corporate chain. Its experience is unique amongst the often bland and boring face of fast food.

And I’d go back in a heartbeat. 

• • •

• If this post has you in a nostalgic mood, you might also enjoy this post about Blockbuster

• Underunderstood’s Pizza Hut Classic episode

• In 2015, some friends and I went in search of “McPIzza,” another trip seeking out the pizza of yesteryear

• While the Used to Be a Pizza Hut blog is awesome, Addison Del Mastro has a great story on a Pizza Hut that didn’t used to be a Pizza Hut

• My Suburbia Lost series features numerous abandoned Pizza Huts, as well as, tons of other fast food relics

• Check out Travis’ wonderful photo work on his Flickr page

Update | April 27, 2022

• If you’re into fast food places with iconic roofs, here’s a story about the kind McDonald’s used to sport.

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