The Pentagon Pizza Index: Prophecy by the Slice

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Monologue

Every empire leaves crumbs. Rome had its bread and circuses, and America—well, we have pizza. A simple food, round, greasy, convenient, and loved by almost everyone. But in the shadows of Washington D.C., pizza has become more than dinner. It has become a signal. A sign. A strange and almost laughable oracle that has followed wars and crises for over forty years. They call it the Pentagon Pizza Index.

The story goes back to the Cold War, when Soviet intelligence noticed something odd. Whenever the lights burned late at the Pentagon, whenever generals and analysts stayed at their desks, stacks of pizza boxes followed them in. Delivery men carried the evidence of crisis, and the Soviets gave it a name—“Pizzint,” short for pizza intelligence. It was simple: late-night orders meant America was preparing for war. And the pattern proved true. Before the invasion of Grenada in 1983, Pentagon-area pizza orders doubled. Before the Panama strike in 1989, they tripled. On the night of August 1, 1990, the CIA ordered 21 pizzas in one night. Hours later, Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, and the Gulf War began.

It sounds absurd, but it became legend. TIME magazine reported it. Wolf Blitzer himself said: “Always monitor the pizzas.” And the legend has lived on. In December 1998, when Bill Clinton faced impeachment hearings and the bombs fell on Kosovo, White House pizza deliveries surged again.

Then the story went quiet—until the digital age. With Google Maps showing “live busyness,” online sleuths began to track Pentagon-area pizzerias in real time. A spike at Domino’s or We, The Pizza became the new watchtower. On April 13, 2024, Iran launched drones at Israel—at the same moment Papa Johns was “busier than usual.” And on June 12, 2025, at 6:59 PM, nearly every Pentagon pizzeria surged at once. An hour later, Israel struck Iran in one of the most dramatic escalations of our time.

The Pentagon laughs. Analysts call it pseudoscience. They point out there are food courts and cafeterias inside the building. They warn of confirmation bias, of myths gone viral, of memes distorting markets and eroding trust. And maybe they’re right. Maybe the pizza index is nonsense. Or maybe it’s the perfect parable for our times—that in the smallest, most ordinary appetites, the truth leaks out.

I’m not here to tell you that pepperoni predicts the future. I’m here to tell you that in a world of secrecy and spin, God has a way of letting truth slip through the cracks. A slice of pizza, a careless delivery, a late-night order—just enough to remind us that nothing is hidden that will not be revealed. Jesus said there would be wars and rumors of wars. Tonight, we ask: are even the pizzas crying out the warning?

Part 1: Cold War Origins — Pizzint

To understand the Pentagon Pizza Index, we have to go back to the 1970s and 80s, when Washington was the chessboard of the Cold War. The Soviets, locked in their silent duel with the United States, were always searching for clues—little cracks in the wall of secrecy that might reveal what America was planning. They had satellites, spies, double agents. But sometimes the most effective intelligence is also the simplest.

And so, Soviet analysts began tracking pizza delivery vans. That’s right—Domino’s cars, local drivers, little red and white boxes going in and out of the Pentagon and CIA headquarters at odd hours of the night. The KGB gave it a name: Pizzint, short for Pizza Intelligence. The logic was straightforward: when Pentagon staff worked overtime, they weren’t going home for dinner. They were ordering food in. And because pizza is fast, cheap, and easy to share, it became the food of choice. A sudden surge in late-night deliveries could mean a crisis was unfolding inside.

Think about the beauty of it. No satellites, no wiretaps, no high-tech gadgets—just watching where the food was going. If the lights were on late, and if drivers were hauling stacks of pizzas through guarded doors, it meant something was happening. Decisions were being made. Orders were being drafted. Possibly war was being prepared.

This wasn’t just a theory. Local drivers themselves began to notice the patterns. They could tell when something was about to break in the news, sometimes days in advance, simply by the unusual flow of deliveries. To them, pizza wasn’t just food—it was a forecast.

It’s almost poetic: the great empires of the world, trying to hide their strategies, undone by hunger and a late-night craving. And behind it all, a prophetic reminder that God makes even the foolish things of the world confound the wise.

Part 2: Early Confirmations — Grenada and Panama

If the Cold War Soviets had only guessed, the story might have ended as nothing more than rumor. But the first real tests of the Pizza Index came in the 1980s, and the results made believers out of more than just delivery drivers.

In October 1983, the United States prepared to invade Grenada in Operation Urgent Fury. The official story was that Washington was concerned about American medical students trapped on the island and the growing influence of Cuban forces. But long before the headlines broke, the clues were already in the hands of the pizza men. Pentagon orders doubled the night before the invasion. Drivers carried stacks of boxes into the building past midnight. They knew something unusual was happening. The very next day, U.S. forces landed on Grenadian soil.

Then it happened again in December 1989. This time it was Panama, and the mission was Operation Just Cause—the removal of General Manuel Noriega. Once again, the night before the first strikes, the phones at Pentagon-area pizzerias rang off the hook. One delivery runner remembered it clearly: “We knew. Absolutely. Pentagon orders doubled up the night before the Panama attack; same thing happened before the Grenada invasion.”

It was so obvious that by the late 1980s, delivery drivers themselves—ordinary workers, not intelligence analysts—could predict when something big was coming. They couldn’t have told you the code name of the operation, or the geopolitical strategy behind it. But they could tell you the timing. And in the world of intelligence, timing is everything.

These weren’t coincidences. They were patterns, visible in plain sight, written not in codebooks or secret cables, but in pizza boxes carried under fluorescent lights. And if the pattern had only happened once, perhaps it could be dismissed. Twice, maybe called luck. But when it began repeating, a legend was born.

The Soviets had been right—pizza was a tell. And soon, even the American press would take notice.

Part 3: The Gulf War and Desert Storm

By the early 1990s, the Pizza Index had moved from rumor to legend. And it was the Gulf War that cemented its place in history.

Frank Meeks, the owner of forty-three Domino’s franchises in the Washington D.C. area, had kept close watch on his delivery numbers. For years, he noticed the unusual surges that always seemed to precede a crisis. But nothing compared to what happened in the buildup to Operation Desert Storm in 1990 and 1991.

On August 1st, 1990, just hours before Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, the CIA ordered a record twenty-one pizzas in a single night. It was an astonishing volume for one office, and the drivers knew immediately that something was happening. Within hours, the Middle East was on fire, and the United States was being pulled into another war.

As tensions escalated, the Pentagon itself lit up with late-night orders. Drivers who normally brought three or four pizzas to the building suddenly found themselves carrying stacks of boxes, over and over again. In less than eight days, Pentagon deliveries skyrocketed from a handful each night to well over a hundred. Then came the most famous figure of all—101 pizzas delivered to the Pentagon on January 15, 1991—the very night before the bombing campaign of Desert Storm began.

The phenomenon became so well-known that it was openly reported. TIME magazine wrote about it. Domino’s drivers spoke of it openly. And CNN’s Pentagon correspondent at the time, Wolf Blitzer, summed it up with a line that still echoes today: “Bottom line for journalists: always monitor the pizzas.”

Here was the strange reality. Journalists with their press passes, politicians with their speeches, and generals with their war rooms were often the last to know when history was about to shift. But the pizza men knew. The delivery logs told the story. And no one could stop it from being seen.

In that moment, the Pizza Index became something more than a curiosity. It became Washington lore—a symbol of how even the mightiest empire can’t hide its movements from the simplest human appetite. And for those watching closely, it was a reminder that prophecy often arrives in the form of the ordinary, not the extraordinary.

Part 4: The Clinton Years

The 1990s were supposed to be the calm after the storm. The Soviet Union had fallen, the Cold War was over, and America stood alone as the global superpower. But even in this so-called peace, the Pentagon Pizza Index didn’t vanish. It showed itself again in the late years of the decade, during a season when Washington was embroiled in scandal abroad and at home.

In December 1998, President Bill Clinton faced impeachment hearings in the House of Representatives. At the very same time, U.S. forces were launching Operation Desert Fox, a bombing campaign against Iraq, and gearing up for military action in Kosovo. The capital was under enormous political and military pressure, and once again, the evidence came sliding across the counters of D.C. pizza parlors.

Local franchise managers and delivery drivers reported massive spikes in orders heading to the White House district. One shop saw deliveries jump by as much as 250 percent above normal on the night of December 15th, as the impeachment debate heated up and the airstrikes began. The Washington Post couldn’t resist comparing the surge to the Gulf War years. It was as if pizza had become a silent, greasy barometer of America’s most critical nights.

What makes this chapter so telling is that the Pizza Index wasn’t just tied to foreign wars anymore—it was now tethered to the domestic crises of the nation itself. When the leadership was cornered, when scandal and conflict collided, the signs appeared in the simplest of places: late-night food orders.

For those who had followed the pattern since Grenada and Panama, the Clinton years confirmed that the Index was more than coincidence. It had survived into a new era, adapting to new conflicts, yet still revealing the truth in the most mundane way possible.

And then, as the new millennium dawned, the story of the Pizza Index began to fade. Not because the pattern had disappeared, but because the world’s attention shifted to bigger technologies—satellites, wiretaps, digital intercepts. For a time, the old legend of pizza predicting war slipped quietly into Washington lore. But it wasn’t gone forever. It was only waiting for the digital age to bring it back to life.

Part 5: Dormancy and Digital Resurrection

For a while, the Pizza Index went quiet. The new millennium was the age of high-tech surveillance and digital espionage. After the Clinton years, the old stories of Domino’s vans rolling into the Pentagon faded into the background. America had satellites scanning every corner of the globe, drones circling targets unseen, and vast electronic listening posts scooping up phone calls and emails. Who needed pizza boxes when you had wiretaps and spy planes?

But legends never truly die. They wait, like embers, for the right wind to stir them back to flame. And in the 2020s, that wind came through the strange marriage of social media and open-source data.

Google had quietly given the public something the Soviets never dreamed of—real-time foot traffic metrics. With the tap of a screen, anyone could see if a restaurant was “busier than usual.” It was meant as a convenience for hungry customers. But in the hands of digital sleuths, it became a new form of Pizzint. People realized they could track Pentagon-area pizza parlors in real time.

In 2023, as the Israel–Gaza war reignited, this digital resurrection came alive. Online researchers began posting charts of spikes at Pentagon pizza shops. And then, almost overnight, a new voice emerged: the Pentagon Pizza Report account on X. This anonymous feed began scraping Google Maps data, flagging when multiple shops within a mile of the Pentagon surged beyond their usual traffic.

To some, it was a joke—a clever meme in a world already drowning in conspiracy theories. But others began to take it seriously, especially when the spikes aligned with breaking headlines. The Pizza Index was back, reborn in the digital age, with algorithms replacing delivery logs, and Twitter threads replacing whispered legends.

It was proof of a timeless truth: the old signs never disappear. They simply adapt to the new tools of the age. And just as it had in the Cold War, the Pizza Index was once again ready to announce that history was about to shift.

Part 6: Modern “Hits”

The digital rebirth of the Pentagon Pizza Index didn’t stay in the realm of memes for long. By 2024 and 2025, the pattern began to reassert itself with eerie precision, giving skeptics pause and fueling believers who saw the hand of history moving again.

On April 13, 2024, as Iran launched swarms of drones toward Israel in retaliation for the bombing of its consulate in Syria, something strange appeared online. Papa Johns near the Pentagon showed as “busier than usual” on Google Maps. Screenshots of the spike spread across X within minutes, and when the drone attack hit the headlines, the old pizza theory was suddenly alive again.

But the most striking case came on June 12, 2025. At 6:59 PM Eastern Time, nearly every Pentagon-area pizzeria lit up red on Google’s “live busyness” charts. District Pizza Palace, Domino’s, Extreme Pizza, and We, The Pizza all surged at once. The Pentagon Pizza Report flagged it immediately. Just an hour later, explosions rocked Tehran as Israel launched a massive strike against Iran’s nuclear facilities. It was the Gulf War all over again, except this time the evidence wasn’t hidden in delivery logs—it was flashing live on millions of phones around the world.

And then, only days later, on June 21, 2025, it happened again. Pentagon Pizza Report noted unusual spikes at both a Papa Johns and a local shop near Joint Base Myer–Henderson Hall. Less than two hours later, NATO confirmed U.S. precision strikes against Iranian enrichment sites in Esfahan Province. Two hits, within nine days, and the Index was back in the headlines.

Even beyond the Middle East, the signs appeared. On June 1, 2025, Pentagon Pizza Report noted traffic at Domino’s “busier than usual,” coinciding with Ukraine’s largest strike yet against Russian territory. The timing was so tight that Armstrong Economics noted it alongside his war cycle forecasts.

For those who had watched the Pizza Index since the 1980s, these weren’t coincidences. They were proof that the pattern had survived into the digital era. For skeptics, they were anomalies, easily explained away by confirmation bias. But one thing was certain—once again, pizza was being linked to war.

And this time, the whole world was watching in real time.

Part 7: Mainstream Recognition

By the summer of 2025, the Pentagon Pizza Index had crossed a line. What had once been Cold War rumor and internet folklore was now headline material in mainstream outlets. The story was too strange, too consistent, and too entertaining for the media to ignore.

Newsweek ran with it after the June 12 Israel–Iran strikes, openly asking whether the Pentagon Pizza Report had spotted the attack before any official announcement. Bitcoin.com called it “the unlikely oracle of war,” noting that it had been right too many times to be dismissed entirely. The Economic Times of India went even further, tallying up “21 crises” that the Index had supposedly predicted and asking whether it might even foreshadow World War III.

Even publications that pride themselves on skepticism couldn’t resist. Fast Company wrote a feature titled “The theory that surging pizza orders signal global crises,” recounting everything from Grenada to Desert Storm to the Iran strikes. They quoted Wolf Blitzer’s old line from 1990: “Always monitor the pizzas.” Yahoo News called it “half myth, half OSINT folklore,” lumping it in with the Waffle House Index for natural disasters.

And then came the analysts. Martin Armstrong, whose economic war cycles are studied around the globe, gave the Pizza Index his blessing as another example of “unintended indicators of history.” In his view, pizza was just another form of capital flow—a quirky but reliable sign that resources were moving and decisions were being made behind closed doors.

Finally, the academic world joined the discussion. Modern Diplomacy published a lengthy analysis of the Pizza Index as a case study in low-tech OSINT. They called it a teaching tool, showing students how to spot patterns in everyday behavior while warning them not to confuse coincidence with causation. For intelligence educators, pizza wasn’t prophecy—it was pedagogy.

What began as Soviet spycraft and Domino’s deliveries had become a global conversation, covered by newspapers, debated by economists, and analyzed by scholars. The Pentagon Pizza Index was no longer just a joke—it was an idea too powerful, too strange, and too symbolic to ignore.

And yet, as the Index gained fame, so too did its critics. Because for every story of a pizza surge before a crisis, there were voices insisting that it was all smoke and grease, nothing more than a meme spun into myth.

Part 8: The Pushback and Debunkers

As the Pentagon Pizza Index grew from Cold War lore into a mainstream talking point, the pushback was inevitable. For every believer who saw patterns in the deliveries, there were skeptics and officials calling it nonsense—or worse, dangerous.

The Pentagon itself has repeatedly dismissed the theory. Spokespeople point out that the Pentagon has entire food courts inside its walls—pizza, sandwiches, sushi, donuts, you name it. Why would staff rush out for Domino’s when they can grab a slice inside the building? In response to reports that Google Maps traffic spikes coincided with Israeli strikes on Iran, the Department of Defense told Newsweek the claims “did not align with events” and had “nothing to offer” on the matter.

The Washington Post portrayed the Index as a quirky urban legend that survives because it’s funny, not because it’s reliable. They warned of confirmation bias: people remember the “hits,” like Grenada or Kuwait, but they forget all the times pizza shops were busy and nothing happened.

Other critics went further. Mohan Kanishka Perera, writing on LinkedIn, called the Pizza Index a viral meme-conspiracy that corrodes trust in institutions. In his view, it’s not just a silly story—it’s an example of how memes can distort markets and society. People might order pizza near the Pentagon just to “test the theory,” artificially fueling the numbers. And in the process, narratives like this erode civic trust, empower foreign actors to spread misinformation, and distract citizens from real debates.

Academic skeptics added their own blows. Researchers like Zenobia Homan at King’s College London warned that without hard data, the Index was little more than “confirmation bias dressed up as OSINT.” Former U.S. analysts like Marcel Plichta argued that the assumptions behind the Index don’t hold water. Google’s “Popular Times” data is based on phone location pings—it doesn’t measure pizza orders. To believe the Index, we’d have to assume Pentagon staff leave secure facilities in the middle of crises, drive to strip-mall pizza shops, and pile inside. That picture, critics argue, is absurd.

And then there are the ethical critics. Modern Diplomacy raised an uncomfortable point: do businesses and their employees really want to become unwilling players in global surveillance? Pizzerias never asked to be treated as indicators of war. Yet once the Index went viral, their data was dragged into the spotlight, raising questions about privacy and unintended consequences.

To the skeptics, the Pizza Index is a joke that has gone too far. To the Pentagon, it’s an annoyance. To academics, it’s a teaching tool, but a flawed one. And yet, even with all these debunkings, the legend persists. Because no matter how hard critics try to bury it, the smell of pizza keeps rising whenever the drums of war begin to beat.

Part 9: The Symbolic and Prophetic Layer

If the Pentagon Pizza Index were only about food deliveries, it would be nothing more than a curiosity. But there’s something deeper here, something almost prophetic. Because history has always spoken through the simplest of signs. Rome distracted its people with bread and circuses; America does the same with pizza and entertainment. And in both cases, food becomes a mask to hide the machinery of empire.

Think about it. At the very moment leaders plot war, they are feeding themselves with the same food that feeds the common man. Pizza is ordinary, universal, shared in homes, schools, and offices. Yet in these critical moments, it becomes a token of extraordinary decisions—decisions of life and death, of nations rising and falling. It is the banquet of war disguised as a midnight snack.

And there is irony here. What is communion but bread broken and shared, a sign of sacrifice and salvation? Yet what is the Pentagon’s communion but pizza slices shared under fluorescent lights while preparing to spill blood abroad? One meal points to life; the other, to death. One is the body given for the world; the other, the body of empire sustained by appetite.

This is why the Pizza Index lingers in the cultural imagination. It is not just data. It is a parable. That the most ordinary appetites of men expose the hidden plans of the powerful. That the smallest cracks in daily life can reveal the deepest currents of history. That the things meant to be kept secret cannot remain so forever.

And isn’t this what Jesus said? “There is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be brought into the open.” If even pizza boxes betray the secrets of generals, how much more will the truth of this age be revealed in the last day?

The Pentagon Pizza Index, whether real or myth, reminds us of a spiritual law: the world can never fully cover its tracks. Empires may cloak themselves in power and secrecy, but God leaves fingerprints in the ordinary, breadcrumbs scattered for those with eyes to see. Even something as trivial as a late-night pizza run can testify that the hour of trial is near.

Part 10: Where It Leads

If the Pentagon Pizza Index were only about the past, it would be nothing more than trivia. But what unsettles people today is the question of where it points next. The Economic Times tallied up twenty-one crises tied to pizza surges and asked openly: Is World War III next?

Martin Armstrong, with his war cycle models, has said it plainly—human behavior always leaks before history breaks. Whether it’s capital fleeing danger or pizzas flooding the Pentagon, the patterns are there. The Index may be low-tech, even laughable, but that’s what makes it so revealing. It reminds us that empires stumble over the ordinary.

Critics warn against reading too much into it. They say pizza orders don’t predict war. And yet the June 2025 strikes on Iran were preceded by such a clean, undeniable surge that even skeptics had to admit the timing was uncanny. If that’s a coincidence, then it’s a coincidence that keeps repeating itself.

So where does it lead? Possibly to nothing—maybe the Index will fade again, laughed off as a meme. Or possibly to everything—another sign, one more ripple in the waters, hinting that the world is being pulled toward a wider, darker conflict. When we see chatter about pizza surges tied to Pentagon nights, perhaps it is not the pizza itself but the larger message: the nations are restless, the powers are stirring, and war is never far from the table.

For us as believers, this is not a call to obsess over pizza shops. It is a reminder of Jesus’ words: there will be wars and rumors of wars, but the end is not yet. The pizza orders, strange as they are, echo this truth. They whisper that human secrecy is fragile, that even the smallest appetites betray the plans of men, and that the stage is being set for the final acts of history.

If God can speak through the foolishness of a donkey, if He can write on the wall of a pagan king’s banquet hall, then surely He can use pizza boxes to mock the pride of generals. Perhaps the Pentagon Pizza Index is not just a meme—it is a parable. A sign that nothing is hidden forever, and that the great wars of men will always leave crumbs behind.

Conclusion

So what do we make of the Pentagon Pizza Index? On the surface, it’s laughable. The fate of nations revealed in late-night pizza runs. A meme dressed up as intelligence. A joke that should have died with the Cold War. And yet—it hasn’t. From Grenada to Panama, from Desert Storm to Clinton’s impeachment, from Gaza to Iran, the same greasy trail has appeared again and again. Enough times that journalists, economists, and even intelligence trainers still whisper the same line: always monitor the pizzas.

The skeptics remind us that correlation is not causation, and they are right. A spike in orders might mean a football game, or a software glitch, or staff working late on a budget report. But the persistence of the pattern tells us something deeper. It tells us that the world is not as secret as it pretends to be. That empires cannot conceal their steps forever. That ordinary appetites betray extraordinary plans.

And for those with eyes of faith, it tells us something more. Jesus warned that there would be wars and rumors of wars. He said that nothing hidden would stay hidden, and that even the stones would cry out to bear witness. Perhaps, in our strange modern parable, even the pizzas are crying out. Not because they predict the future, but because they remind us that truth leaks through the cracks of the ordinary.

The Pentagon Pizza Index is not just about food. It is about the irony of empire. Rome had its bread and circuses; America has its pizza and Pentagon. What leaders plot in secret, God exposes in plain sight. What men try to hide, He lets slip in the most foolish of ways.

So the next time you hear that a Domino’s near the Pentagon is “busier than usual,” don’t panic. Don’t treat it as prophecy. But remember this: no matter how tightly the world’s powers try to grip control, they cannot hold back the hand of God. The kingdoms of this earth rise and fall, but the Kingdom of Christ endures forever.

Wars will come. Rumors will swirl. But our hope is not in the pizza index, or the Pentagon, or the headlines of the day. Our hope is in the One who broke bread, not for war, but for peace. The One who said, “Take, eat—this is my body, given for you.” In Him alone do we find the feast that does not end, and the Kingdom that cannot be shaken.

Bibliography & Endnotes

Primary Sources & Reporting

• TIME Magazine. “Signs of War in Pizza Boxes.” August 13, 1990. (Domino’s runner testimony before Grenada and Panama invasions).
• CNN. Wolf Blitzer, Pentagon Correspondence, 1990–1991. Quoted in multiple outlets: “Always monitor the pizzas.”
• Los Angeles Times. Frank Meeks interview, January 1991 (Domino’s franchise owner reporting surges before Desert Storm).
• Newsweek. “Pentagon Pizza Monitor Appeared to Predict Israel Attack.” June 2025.
• The Economic Times (India). “World War III Ahead? Pentagon’s Pizza Meter Has Accurately Predicted 21 Crises.” July 2025.
• Bitcoin.com. Munawa, Frederick. “The Curious Case of the Pentagon Pizza Index: It Accurately Predicts Wars.” June 2025.
• Fast Company. Upton-Clark, Eve. “Pentagon Pizza Index: The Theory That Surging Pizza Orders Signal Global Crises.” September 2025.
• Yahoo Creators. Nagy, Katalin. “Pentagon Pizza Index Investigated—Serious Intelligence or Just a Slice of Myth?” September 1, 2025.
• Washington Post. “Tracking Pentagon Pizza Orders as a Meme, Not a Method.” July 2025.
• LinkedIn. Perera, Mohan Kanishka. “Debunking the Washington D.C. Pizza Index.” June 16, 2025.
• Armstrong Economics. Armstrong, Martin. “The Pizza Index.” June 16, 2025.
• Modern Diplomacy. Isildak, Muratcan. “The Pentagon Pizza Index as a Case Study in Low-Tech OSINT.” July 23, 2025.
• ProleWiki. “Pizza Index.” 2025.

Key Historical Cases Referenced

• Grenada, 1983 — Pentagon-area pizza orders doubled the night before Operation Urgent Fury.
• Panama, 1989 — Delivery drivers reported triple the usual orders before Operation Just Cause.
• Kuwait, August 1, 1990 — CIA ordered 21 pizzas the night before Iraq invaded Kuwait.
• Desert Storm, January 15, 1991 — Pentagon received 101 pizzas on the eve of the air campaign.
• Clinton Impeachment & Kosovo, December 1998 — White House pizza surge 250% above normal.
• Israel–Gaza, April 13, 2024 — Pizza surge noted as Iran launched drones at Israel.
• Israel–Iran, June 12, 2025 — Pentagon Pizza Report flagged surges across four pizzerias one hour before Israeli strikes on Tehran.
• Israel–Iran, June 21, 2025 — Spikes detected before NATO confirmed U.S. precision strikes.
• Ukraine–Russia, June 1, 2025 — Pentagon Pizza Report flagged unusual traffic, coinciding with Ukraine’s largest strike on Russian territory.

Endnotes

1. The Pizza Index, or “Pizzint,” was first noted by Soviet intelligence in the late Cold War as a low-tech way to track U.S. activity.
2. Domino’s franchise owner Frank Meeks’ testimony remains one of the strongest anecdotal confirmations of the Index’s accuracy during the Gulf War.
3. Modern OSINT accounts such as @PenPizzaReport now track Google Maps “Popular Times” data, bringing the Index into the digital age.
4. Debate continues: mainstream outlets treat it as part folklore, part predictive tool; skeptics highlight confirmation bias and Google’s methodology (tracking foot traffic, not orders).
5. Regardless of causation, the Pizza Index endures as a parable of how ordinary appetites betray extraordinary events, and as a metaphor for the biblical truth that “nothing is hidden that will not be revealed.”