- The Tritan, a three-wheeled contraption, was cutting-edge pizza delivery technology in the 1980s.
- Only 10 were ever made, each with a slippery drag coefficient and an aerospace-engineering origin story.
- This non-running example will need a powertrain if it’s to achieve its pizza-delivering dream, however.
Pizza as a foodstuff dates back to something like the sixth century B.C., and it is today a nearly $50 billion industry in the United States. But the apogee of pizza technology came in the 1980s, when megachain Domino’s Pizza created the 30 Minutes or It’s Free guarantee and then set about marketing that promise. That effort produced the bizarre, rabbit-suited “Noid” character and an odd ad campaign called “Avoid the Noid.” The car we nearly got out of Domino’s campaign was even weirder.
One of those pizza delivery vehicles has surfaced on Bring a Trailer—which, like Car and Driver, is part of Hearst Autos. It’s called the Tritan A2, and at the time it was a low-drag, ultra-efficient moonshot at avoiding the Noid. Ten were built, several are lost, so this is a very rare machine.
The Tritan was the brainchild of father-and-son inventors James and Douglas Amick, the latter trained as an aeronautical engineer. The Amicks just so happened to live in Ann Arbor, Michigan, the very same place where Domino’s Pizza was then headquartered.
Back in November 1982, Car and Driver tested the Tritan 135, and concluded that it was “an answer to a question that nobody’s asking.” Seems a bit of a harsh conclusion, but we did note that the Tritan boasted an excellent coefficient of drag at 0.135 and a thrifty 75 mpg at 50 mph. It’s just that the braking, turning, and acceleration weren’t up to snuff: reaching 60 mph took 63.2 seconds.
By 1984, the Amicks had ditched the 135’s measly garden-tractor engine, replacing it with an Israel-sourced 30-hp 440-cc rotary engine. Suddenly, the A2 was relatively nippy, boasting a tight turning circle with its three-wheel layout. A proposal was put to the Domino’s Pizza board, and a deal was struck. Ten A2s were fitted with warming ovens and sold at a cost of $15,000 each.
Looking at the A2 today, you can easily see why Domino’s Pizza coughed up the—ahem—dough. Even in its slightly faded livery, it’s easy to imagine the impact the A2 had when the company unveiled it in its marketing campaign. The Jetsons was still in syndication then, and people would have been lining up to have their pepperoni and cheese pies delivered by such a futuristic machine, a pizza-delivery vehicle that must have seemed positively heroic next to the rusty Chevy Cavaliers and Ford Escorts then popular.
This example is claimed to be number nine of the 10 delivered. As Domino’s didn’t take the effort past the marketing-gimmick phase, those are the only A2s built. Its engine has been removed, so it’s not a runner, but a display model currently sitting on wheeled dollies.
There are two options here. One is to add this to your display of 1980s icons, slotted between a life-size model of Alf and the miniature Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles van. A little cosmetic touch-up, and it’d be a snapshot of a time when all things pizza-related were possible.
The other, perhaps more challenging route forward, is to build the pizza delivery vehicle Tritan should have made in the first place. Call up your local Mazda rotary specialist, fit some shifter go-kart pieces, and create something that’s part The Last Starfighter, part delivery vehicle.
Whatever its fate, this Tritan A2 is currently offered with no reserve, and the auction ends on December 13. You have more than 30 minutes to make you bid, but don’t let the Noid get there first if you want a nearly forgotten slice of pizza history.
Contributing Editor
Brendan McAleer is a freelance writer and photographer based in North Vancouver, B.C., Canada. He grew up splitting his knuckles on British automobiles, came of age in the golden era of Japanese sport-compact performance, and began writing about cars and people in 2008. His particular interest is the intersection between humanity and machinery, whether it is the racing career of Walter Cronkite or Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki’s half-century obsession with the Citroën 2CV. He has taught both of his young daughters how to shift a manual transmission and is grateful for the excuse they provide to be perpetually buying Hot Wheels.