Aloyicious Deep Dishes
On a quiet turnoff on a lonely road a shed stands alone...and it is stocked with frozen deep dish pizzas.



This is a food review site: why are we reviewing a shed in the middle of a nice residential area of Manchester, Vermont?
There’s a story. And an oddly Vermont-y story it is.
In 2021 Andy Comeau and his wife Dawn were driving eastward from California. In their car were 4 cats and an aging 95 pound pitbull. Having sold their home, they were confident that they could find a place in the Hudson Valley. After being outbid several times, they realized that confidence was misplaced.
One afternoon, Andy and Dawn were driving northward on Route 7 and Dawn, well, needed to pee. They took the Arlington/Sunderland exit, found a convenient spot (thank you Stewart’s!) and drove north on 7a when--whoa!--there was the Equinox Hotel. What was this place? Having seen many villages languishing during COVID, they were struck with Manchester’s vibrancy and stateliness.
They found a home--the only one on the market, one needing some repairs. They bought it and settled in.
And their beloved pitbull died.
Andy used to sing to their dog as he made food, especially his speciality, deep dish pizza. (Andy is a musician..and their dog’s name rhymes with “delicious.” Singing makes sense.) So amidst his sadness and grief, an idea “fell out of the sky,” as Andy puts it: Why not sell pizzas out of a shed, and name them after Clyde Aloyicious?
And so Aloyicious Deep Dishes was born in January, 2023.
Where outside of Vermont could this situation flourish? You’re hungry for a pizza--or more precisely you know you will be hungry for it. You get in your truck. You drive along the old toll road and turn at the railway tracks. Drive a short distance. Stop at this shed. Pop inside and open the freezer, stuffed with deep dish pizzas. Choose plain, Fun Guy (mushroom), Vicious (vegetarian sausage), gluten-free (ordered ahead. When possible Aloyicious also features local, seasonal ingredients such as ramps, fiddleheads, and morels). Pay--Venmo or cash. It’s on the Honor system. Prices range from $20-$25.
Take your pizza home and bake it at 450 degrees for an hour.
Finally--how does Aloyicious taste?
No, I’m not going for the easy rhyme.
If you love meatloaf or pot pies, you’re going to love these deep dish pizzas. And you don’t have to drive to Chicago to get them. If you’re not a Chicagoan, the deep dish style may throw you. Imagine thin crust--and then imagine the crust of an apple pie: Aloyicious’s is over toward the apple pie range. If you eat it right out of the oven, it’s not really finger food, unless you like a tomatoey face and fingers.
These pizzas are rich, satisfying comfort food.
The cheese pizza has a pleasing interplay of mozzarella, parmesan and a mysterious “cheese blend.” Provolone? Romano? The sauce has the depth of a satisfying saxophone solo--full and hearty. The simple plain pizza was my favorite.
The Fun Guy does not clobber you with mushrooms; they are subtle, stepping forward and easing the cheeses and onion a bit into the background. Still, it’s the same band playing. This one was Kendra’s favorite.
The Vicious is the Aloyicious vegetarian sausage pizza. Vegetarian sausage is an oxymoron (like jumbo shrimp), right? But try serving the Vicious as simply sausage pizza, and I suspect few carnivores will miss anything--except maybe the greasiness. Ok, true this sausage isn't as firm as its meaty cousin, but only if you’re hunting for it. The heat (from chili?) pleasingly lights up the pizza.
Eating the Vicious, Kendra and I stumbled on a strategy for these deep dishes: if you have the willpower, let them cool for fifteen minutes or so, easing the cheese into a soft firmness. Not only can you cut out a thick slice, you can taste the subtleties of the flavors. You can pick up a wedge and easily bite through the bottom crust. (This is the same reason quiches benefit from cooling, too, by the way.)
The shed honors Aloyicious, but asked why he plunged down this unexpected road, Andy had a surprising answer: he was in pursuit of the Lost American Dream.
As a musician, he has had success fronting his band Vaud and the Villains. But assembling a large band in Vermont has its own almost insurmountable challenges. (Still, the alliteration of Vaud, Villains and Vermont suggests a cosmic connection.) Gathering and bonding over good food has a parallel with concert-goers bonding over music.
Making pizza for folks is a small way of fulfilling the dream. For the full experience--at least a slice of it-- bake a deep dish, search out Vaud and the Villains on YouTube and settle in.



