Papa Murphy’s Is Literally Begging You To Bake Your Own Pizza (And It’s Not Working) 🍕💀
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Okay, besties, let’s talk about a national tragedy that isn’t the price of eggs.
You remember Papa Murphy’s, right? The spot where you go when you want pizza but also want to feel like a domestic god/goddess for 20 minutes? The one where you take home a raw disc of dough and a handful of shredded cheese bags and suddenly you’re a chef?
Yeah, that chain is in a full-blown crisis. And honestly? It’s kinda sad. It’s giving "ex-boyfriend texting you at 2 AM asking if you still think about him." 📉
**The Vibe Check: It’s Not Good.**
We’re not saying Papa Murphy’s is dead, but it’s definitely on life support, mainlining espresso, and refreshing its bank account like it’s waiting for a text back. The brand has been struggling harder than I did in AP Calculus. Sales are dipping faster than my motivation to go to the gym in January. They’re closing locations left and right—not like a chaotic "flee the building" energy, but more like a sad, quiet "we’re just gonna lock the doors and go home" energy.
For real, the numbers are rough. Same-store sales? Down. Traffic? Down. The hype? *Gone.* It’s like the whole world collectively decided, "Nah, I’m good, I’ll just order from DoorDash."
But here’s the thing: why? WHY are we abandoning the only pizza place that lets us play with our food before we eat it? Let’s unpack this mess. 🧵
**The "Work" Problem: We’re Lazy, Period.**
Look, I love the *idea* of Papa Murphy’s. The *idea* of me, a cute lil’ gremlin, casually throwing a pizza in the oven while my apartment smells like garlic butter? Iconic. But the *reality*? The reality is that by the time I get home from my 9-to-5 (or, let's be real, my 9-to-5 and my 6-to-10 side hustle), the last thing I want to do is *cook*. I want to sit on my couch, rot, and have a stranger’s delivery guy hand me sustenance through a crack in the door.
Papa Murphy’s is asking you to do the bare minimum—putting a pizza in the oven—and even that feels like too much work for the modern American consumer. We are a nation built on convenience. We want it hot, we want it now, and we want it to arrive with a side of ranch that I didn't have to ask for.
This is the "labor tax" problem. When I buy from Domino's or Pizza Hut, I'm paying for the service. When I buy from Papa Murphy's, I'm paying for the *ingredients* and then I have to provide the labor AND the electricity for my own oven. Why am I paying you to do half the job? That’s like paying a personal trainer to tell you to do pushups and then you have to do them yourself. Scam. 🚩
**The "Raw" Factor: We Don't Trust You.**
Another huge L for Papa Murphy’s? Delivery apps. In the year of our lord 2025, if I can’t get it delivered to my door in 30 minutes or less, is it even real? Papa Murphy’s built their entire business model on "Take and Bake." That means you have to physically go to the store, grab the pizza, drive home, and then bake it. That’s like three extra steps that require me to put on pants.
And sure, they tried to get on the delivery apps. But here’s the thing—when I order a Papa Murphy’s pizza on DoorDash, I’m not getting a hot, melty, ready-to-eat pizza. I’m getting a cold slab of dough that has been sitting in some Dasher’s hot bag next to a guy’s sweaty gym clothes for 20 minutes. Then *I* have to bake it? The audacity.
Plus, there’s a psychological barrier. When I pick up a raw pizza, my brain doesn’t register it as "food." It registers it as "a craft project." It’s giving Play-Doh. It’s giving "science experiment." I look at that raw dough and I think, "This is not dinner, this is a chore."
**The Competition is Eating Their Lunch (Literally).**
Let’s be real, the pizza game is STACKED. We have the Big Three (Domino’s, Pizza Hut, Papa Johns) who are fighting to the death over who can offer the best "Emergency Pizza" coupon. Then you have the bougie spots with the wood-fired ovens and the burrata. Then you have the Costco food court, which is basically a religious experience for $1.99.
Papa Murphy’s is stuck in the middle. They’re not cheap enough to be a "value" play, and they’re not fancy enough to be a "treat." They’re just... there. They’re the mid-tier of pizza, and in this economy, nobody has time for mid.
Also, their menu is kind of a bop? The "Chicken Bacon Artichoke" is actually fire. But nobody knows that because they’re too busy fighting for their lives against a $5 Hot-N-Ready (RIP Little Caesars, you king) or a $7.99 large pepperoni from Dominos.
**The "I Don't Own an Oven" Gen Z Problem.**
Here’s the tea: The core demographic for Papa Murphy’s is families. Moms who want to feed their kids without paying $40 for a delivery order. But Gen Z? We live in apartments with ovens that are either broken, used for storage (where do you think I keep my sneakers?), or
Final Thoughts
Look, Papa Murphy’s isn't dying because people stopped loving pizza—it's dying because the company bet its entire model on a "take-and-bake" convenience that lost its edge the moment DoorDash made a hot, ready-made pie as accessible as a drive-thru window. The real tragedy here is a classic case of strategic inertia: they saw the delivery revolution coming, but chose to double down on a cold, raw product while competitors pivoted to ghost kitchens and third-party logistics. Ultimately, this is a cautionary tale that in the modern food game, you don't just compete on taste—you compete on friction, and Papa Murphy's simply couldn't overcome the friction of asking a hungry customer to do the final 20 minutes of work themselves.