Now, the best part: the metal topping bar. It’s like a medieval torture device redesigned for gluttony. You slide your pizza base under it, pull a lever, and a rain of shredded mozzarella falls like manna from heaven. Pull too hard, and you’ve created a cheese mountain that could enter the Olympics for “most likely to cause cardiac arrest.”
We tried pizza counters at Asda, Sainsbury's and Morrisons and one was
I once saw a toddler pull the lever so aggressively that his pizza got an avalanche. His mum just sighed, paid for it, and now that kid is in college, still chasing that high. That’s the power of Asda. It creates memories—and cholesterol.
Price? A joke that lands every time
Here’s the kicker: a fully loaded, borderline-abusive amount of toppings costs about the same as a sad sandwich from the meal deal aisle. You can load it with three kinds of cheese, olives, chicken, and enough red onion to make a vampire cry—and it’s still under a fiver. That’s not a pizza; that’s a financial loophole.
One time, I made a pizza with pepperoni, mushrooms, black olives, and extra pepperoni on top of the pepperoni. The cashier scanned it, looked at me with dead eyes, and said, “You need help.” Fair.
Asda Pizza Counter Gluten Free – BMTH
