Traditional recipes

Pizza Hut Rolls Out Its Most Patriotic Pizza Promotion Ever

Pizza Hut Rolls Out Its Most Patriotic Pizza Promotion Ever

Available for limited time this summer, Pizza Hut's giant pizza is almost two feet of crust

The most patriotic pizza ever?

The Fourth of July has come and gone, but when it comes to food, some brands may just be getting started when it comes to celebrating America.

With the Olympic games just around the corner, Pizza Hut has released a bold new pie that only hot dog champ Joey "Jaw" Chestnut would be able to take down in one sitting-- the Big Flavor Dipper Pizza.

Available for limited time this summer, Pizza Hut's giant pizza is almost two feet of crust, sauce and cheese fully loaded with any of your favorite toppings. The pie also comes with a choice of dipping sauces including offers Classic Marinara, California Ranch, Texas Honey BBQ, and New York Buffalo.

The pizza isn't just America-super-sized-- it comes in a red, white and blue box emblazoned with "Go USA!" so you can chow down while cheering on your favorite athletes.

Pizza Hut isn't the only company to declare it's love for the United States this summer.

Most notably, Budweiser changed its brand name to “America” on its beer cans and bottles. The name swap will last through election season in November.

And if you really want to amp up your star spangled spirit, you can always just whip up a red, white and blue cocktail.

Are Budweiser and Pizza Hut vying to become the ultimate symbols of American culinary prowess?

Pizza and beer is a pretty classic combo any way you slice it.

The Big Flavor Dipper pizza comes with 22 slices and starts at $12.99.

This article was originally published on July 20, 2016

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We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


We sell our pizzas for $16.50. Here's how the costs break down.

The day my boyfriend put giardiniera on a pizza changed my life forever. That boyfriend, now my husband, is a third-generation pizza maker, and his suburban Chicago family pizzeria has served tavern-style pies and other Chicago-style Italian fare since the 1950s. As much as I’d love to shout out the pizzeria’s name, you’ll soon see why I’m going to keep that detail to myself.

Being married to pizza has many perks, undeniably. But as a pizza aficionado since I could eat solid food, it’s eye-opening to experience owning a pizza restaurant. I’m now immersed in the world of independent restaurants, for all its joys and heartaches. My husband grew up in an entire family that ran pizzerias, so treating a Tuesday afternoon (the slowest business day of the week) like most people’s Saturday is his norm. But for me, the responsibilities of owning a small business have been a huge adjustment.

There are certainly bright sides to owning a pizzeria—yes, I mean free pizza. But, there are downsides, too. Many. My family doesn’t get many holidays we work Christmas Eve, Mother’s Day, New Year’s Eve and/or Day, Valentine’s Day. Those are big business occasions for the catering side of our mom-and-pop, and those are the days that the regular, already intense hustle goes into overdrive.

Restaurant owners like my husband are always working. Even if he has a day or evening off, something can come up—an employee not showing up to work or the pizza oven breaking in the middle of the Saturday-night rush. It’s a life of early mornings and late nights, whether to meet a contractor to repair an appliance or to organize and deep clean the restaurant.

But one of the more frustrating economic aspects of owning a pizzeria is competing with fast-food pizza chains. Fast-food pizza franchises have Super Bowl-sized advertising budgets, the support of a corporate force behind them, and national name recognition. When their pizza ovens break, there’s protocol. They also notoriously sell cheap pies made with mass-produced ingredients, whereas independent pizzerias like ours stake our reputations on high-quality, homemade pies at higher—but fair—prices.


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