You won't meet Joe but you should go home Happy

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Unless you grew up in Iowa, Crookston, New Ulm or maybe one or two other Minnesota outposts, you probably have no idea what Happy Joe's means to residents of those locations.

For the uninitiated, Happy Joe's is a chain of pizza-and-ice cream joints based in Iowa whose reach extended well into Minnesota. I feel safe in saying its peak came sometime in the late 80s or early 90s, before Americans decided we'd hit Peak Pizza and could start dialing back our obsession with Italian flatbreads. Unfortunately, instead of shuttering various Pizza Huts and Papa John's locations, the smaller chains and mom-and-pop joints began dying off.

Today, there remain 15 Happy Joe's locations in Iowa (down from a high-water mark of 325,491, give or take a couple) and nine in Illinois, though they are mostly clustered in the Quad Cities and thus are frequented by people who are more East Iowans than true Illinoisians.

And, as of last month, there are now three locations in Minnesota. Longtime holdouts in Crookston and New Ulm remain stalwarts in the Happy Joe's portfolio. A third location just opened in Mendota Heights, much to the delight of metro-area residents who grew up in those locations previously mentioned. (The original announcement in 2024 referenced "up to six" new franchises being spawned mostly in the south metro area, but so far Mendota Heights is the only one to come to fruition.)

If you're a kid, the allure of Happy Joe's was not the pizza. HJ's (sorry, I will try to avoid that abbreviation in the future) leaned heavily into its dessert function, specifically massive ice cream sundaes the size of which would earn you a free T-shirt for finishing at other restaurants who underestimate the power of American gluttony. They also featured plenty of games – mostly pinball and Pac-Man, as I recall from the Ancient Times. And naturally, the combination of ice cream, pizza and games made it the perfect spot to host birthday parties for kids of a certain age.

The other way Happy Joe's differentiated itself from its competitors was its insanely popular taco pizza. Now, I know many people consider taco pizza an abomination before the Lord. I even asked Mrs. Generalist who would be more offended by its existence, Italians or Mexicans? (We didn't reach a consensus.)

All I can say is, if that's your opinion, you've never had Happy Joe's taco pizza. This isn't some lame-ass sausage pizza with a little cumin and a few jalapeño slices scattered about. How best to describe it for the uninitiated? Well, it starts with a crust that is perfectly balanced between crunchy and chewy. The sauce is a proprietary blend of three ingredients – tomato sauce, refried beans and taco sauce (not salsa, but rather the condiment most associated with Ortega in your local grocery store's Ethnic Foods aisle).

Atop that layer of sauce is a light layer of cheese (seriously, for once cheese is not the main character in a pizza – probably why it never caught on in Wisconsin, where there are currently two locations) and seasoned ground beef. My best guess is that the blend is similar to what you'd find in an envelope of taco seasoning in your aforementioned Ethnic Foods aisle. But I'm pretty sure there's just a hint of Italian in there as well – more oregano, maybe a dash of fennel? Regardless, it's just there to add a little zing.

Then you get to the main event. After the pizza is baked, it's topped with chopped lettuce (ice-iceberg baby – save your arugula and spring greens mix for Punch and its many imitators) and taco chips. And this is very important – they cannot be your basic tortilla chips. They have to be taco flavored tortilla chips. For those of you too young to remember, there was a time when Doritos existed in just three forms – corn (yellow bag), nacho cheese (red bag) and taco (0range bag). Then cool ranch (blue bag) came along and everything went to hell. The taco version even went off the market for a long time, though Old Dutch and a few others bravely tried to recreate them. Now Doritos has brought back taco flavored chips, and all is right with the world. The pizza is served with more taco sauce in packet form, plus sour cream if you so choose.

Over the years, other versions of taco pizza have sprung up on Happy Joe's menus – one with olives and onions, one with a nacho cheese sauce, one with chicken (talk about your abominations before the Lord) – but the original Taco Joe's is the gold standard. And it was the one that brought Mr. and Mrs. Generalist out to Mendota Heights on Friday night for our first test of the new location.

As you can see, the new location has a miniature midway of sorts where players can earn tickets that can be exchanged for toys and other trinkets your mom will throw out in three months. But you can't call this a poor man's Chuck E Cheese because the pizza is on another level. And the ice cream comes from Bridgeman's so you know it's good.

As for the taco pizza? It was almost an exact replica of versions I've eaten in the past. I say almost because we agreed the spicing of the ground beef was just a bit different. Hard to put a finger on it, and it wasn't different in an unpleasant way. We eventually decided it didn't have that hint of Italian we've come to expect. But again, it didn't detract from the overall enjoyment of the pizza.

A note on size: Pictured is a medium pizza. Two grown-ass adults can usually polish off a medium together, but I wouldn't go any larger than that unless you have a big party, because like a new car, this baby depreciates the second it leaves the lot. When you pop it in the fridge, the chips get stale and sad, and the lettuce grows limp overnight. You can heat it up the next day and still have a 6 of 10 lunch experience, but it won't match that fresh-fr0m-the-oven quality of the night before.

Also, if you're not digging the idea of an Italo-Mex mashup, their pepperoni is great, and of course New Ulm's Happy Joe's has perfected a sausage-and-sauerkraut pie that is out of this world.

And though we didn't partake, the dessert menu certainly contained many tempting options. We also witnessed two birthday parties, with the celebrants being feted by Happy Joe's staff in song, accompanied by a wacky rubber-bulb horn. The kids seemed thrilled but I know that's not everyone's cup of tea.

All in all, we agreed the meal and ambiance met our expectations and we will be returning. If you're from Iowa and live in the south metro, join us, won't you?