The Beauty of D.P. Dough

I realize that my last entry was a little harsh. That being said, I’ve decided to take this one in a more positive direction. Naturally, I’ve decided to write about D.P. Dough, the ultimate college town eatery. You see, D.P. Dough’s dedication to making calzones and calzones alone reenforces their already clear commitment to quality cuisine (D.P. Dough does too qualify as cuisine, haters). With thirty plus variations and the option to create your own calzone, there’s something for everyone there. D.P. Dough is comfort food at its best. It’s warm, cheesy, and open late. Even the interior design of D.P. Dough is comforting, almost reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. From here, I’d like to direct your attention to the core of this fabulous establishment, the calzones themselves.

What impresses me most about D.P. Dough’s calzones is their consistency. Even when the place packed full of drunk frat bros and over zealous freshmen, every calzone is great. They understand the importance of not under or over stuffing the inside of the calzone at D.P. Dough. It’s always just right. Furthermore, compared to your typical college establishment, their ingredient selection is always commendable. And you know that all too familiar situation when your food is over cooked and the cheese isn’t gooey anymore? This doesn’t happen at the Dough...ever. What can I say? They’re great! They’re also probably not the best for you, but that’s a side note. I know how awesome D.P. Dough is, but if you feel like you can’t relate reading this, perhaps it’s because you weren’t introduced to D.P. Dough the same way I was. As pathetic as it sounds, I truly believe I’ll remember my first D.P. Dough experience for a long time. It was the first night I really “went out” here and it was an iconically freshman night. Without taking this entry to an inappropriate place, by the end of the night my older friend’s description of D.P. Dough was absolutely irresistible. “Cheesy calzones?! Of course I want one!” I ever so vaguely remember exclaiming. We walked into D.P. Dough between two and two thirty in the morning and the place was packed. It was loud and everyone was having fun. The smell of calzones and the sound of laughter filled the air. I placed my order and took a seat at an open table. I think it was then that I first appreciated the fact that I was in college. As I ate my calzone, I not only tasted the deliciousness of it, but also the bitter sweet flavor of freedom.