In the suburbs of Chicago, where Brittany and Brennan Grosvenor grew up, a Friday night dinner came down to a very simple family tradition. Ordering pizza meant answering a familiar local prompt: thin-crust, deep-dish, or double-dough. Today, the couple runs Proof in Portland, Oregon, where they serve the first of those three options. However, the language of "thin crust" has given way to a more nationally recognized moniker: tavern-style. Across the United States, this once-regional Midwestern staple has quietly swept from coast to coast, redefining what diners expect when they order a pie.
To outsiders, the culinary identity of Chicago is often inextricably linked to its famous, tourist-beckoning deep-dish pizza—the towering, casserole-like creation filled with chunky tomato sauce and rivers of mozzarella. But Brittany notes that this stereotype is simply not reflective of everyday reality. Deep dish, she explains, is reserved for much less frequent treats, visitors, or special occasions.
"The pizza you get every week, or if you go to a kid’s birthday party, it’s always tavern-style," she says.
This ubiquitous style is prevalent across the Midwest, with Chicago, Milwaukee, Minnesota, and St. Louis all touting their own variations of the pie. Tavern-style pizza is historically defined by its thin, cracker-like crust that bakes up to a rigid crispness. Instead of being cut into traditional triangular wedges, it is sliced into a grid of small squares, frequently referred to as a "party cut." Depending on the region and the specific nostalgia of the neighborhood pizzeria, the sauce might lean sweet or spicy, but lightness and crunch remain the core selling points.
Writing for Esquire in 2023, critic Omar Mamoon described the rising variant as a direct foil to the famously thick Detroit-style pizza, which had enjoyed its own massive moment in the spotlight during the late 2010s.
The true genius of the tavern-style pie lies in its inherent shareability. A circular pizza yields far more individual portions when cut into a grid than it does when sliced into triangles. Bradley Shorten, the creative force behind Kim’s Uncle Pizza in his hometown Chicago suburb of Westmont, Illinois, and the recently opened La Merna in Washington, D.C., points out that pizza cut into little squares makes for exceptional drinking food. Crucially, it fits easily on a cocktail napkin.

According to Shorten, the hallmark of a properly constructed tavern pie is that every single square features a balanced distribution of ingredients, with toppings extending all the way to the edge. And while the four small corner pieces—devoid of internal neighbors and heavy on charred crust—might technically not be the "best" slices from a purely structural standpoint, Shorten notes they are unfailingly the ones "everybody goes for," especially diners who grew up in the Chicago area.
Over the past few years, as neighborhood taverns have turned into major fixations for a new wave of restaurateurs, party-cut pizza and corner-pub aesthetics have become ubiquitous. Recent openings span the country, including Keepers in New York City; One Trick Pony in Fort Worth, Texas; Tillie’s Tavern Pizza in Wheat Ridge, Colorado; and spots like Zarella and Dimmi Dimmi Corner Italian in Chicago, where the style has always been a fundamental part of the culinary fabric. For displaced Chicagoans, these nationwide openings offer a long-awaited opportunity to correct the broader public record about their city’s actual pizza culture, while other Midwesterners proudly stake their own regional claims.
When Mike Fadem opened the second location of his popular New York City pizzeria Ops—an establishment renowned for its wood-fired, Neapolitan-esque pies featuring leopard-spotted crusts and pliant, airy dough—he felt an urge to offer something entirely different. Fadem originally hails from St. Louis, where the local style of pizza features an exceptionally paper-thin crust. Despite his deep personal affection for it, Fadem readily admits that it might not objectively be the best version of tavern pizza, acknowledging its vocal critics who take particular issue with its traditional topping of provel, a gooey, processed cheese blend.
Tracing the evolution of tavern-style pizza, Fadem compares the phenomenon to a game of telephone. St. Louis pizza is directly derived from thin-crust Chicago pizza, which itself traces its lineage back to the classic Neapolitan styles brought over by Italian immigrants. Noticeable divergence has accompanied every single geographic jump along the way.
Meanwhile, one of Fadem’s employees at Ops originated from New Jersey, a state with its own fiercely defended tradition of thin-crust, tavern- and bar-style pizza. Similar devoted followings exist around the distinct bar pies of the Boston area. Inspired by these overlapping traditions, Fadem began wondering if Ops could craft its own distinct interpretation. Known primarily for natural sourdough, Fadem wanted to highlight the complex, nutty flavor of whole grains while achieving an intense, shatteringly crisp texture that he knew would appeal to New Yorkers.
The resulting creation was added to the menu under the regionally agnostic name "tavernetta." Although St. Louis and New Jersey provided the initial spark of inspiration, Fadem notes that the best examples encountered during his deep research expeditions were actually found in Milwaukee. Rather than replacing the restaurant’s existing menu items, the tavernetta is typically ordered alongside them, with most dining groups opting to add at least one to their table.

The appeal of tavern pizza is also heavily intertwined with the modern revival of the neighborhood bar as a social, convivial sanctuary. When Los Angeles cocktail destination Bar Next Door celebrated its third anniversary, the establishment marked the milestone by expanding its operations to include a dedicated food menu. Previously, the bar had permitted patrons to bring in hot pies from Prince Street Pizza next door, largely because Prince Street co-owner Lawrence Longo is a partner in the bar project.
However, bar director and owner Brynn Smith recognized the limitations of heavier styles of pizza in a drinking environment. After consuming a heavy slice, guests often felt too full and ready to call it a night. The primary goal for Bar Next Door was to encourage patrons to linger a little longer and enjoy another round of drinks, making tavern-style pizza a natural fit. The fact that these pizzas—specifically listed on the menu as "bar pies" to better match the venue’s identity—are baked exclusively for the bar by Prince Street provides yet another compelling reason for locals to venture out.
The broader cultural idea of the tavern as a welcoming, unpretentious space is inseparable from the food it serves. Shorten’s goal with La Merna, which he operates alongside his wife Meg Schmitt—who grew up in St. Louis—was to recreate the authentic atmosphere of a classic Chicago dive bar or a traditional Wisconsin supper club. These are spaces defined by warm wood-paneled walls, checkered floors, and comfortable red leather booths where groups can settle in with pitchers of beer and share pizzas for hours.
As food writers have noted, the rising popularity of the cozy tavern aesthetic across restaurants nationwide is deeply rooted in a collective desire for spaces that feel lived-in, unpretentious, and reassuringly familiar. For millions of people, this comforting atmosphere is perfectly embodied by the archetypal hometown pizza joint, an institution that remains permanently tethered in the cultural imagination to a simpler, more communal era.
It is precisely this nostalgic impulse that drove the Grosvenors in Oregon to begin offering their own regional interpretations of classic Midwestern comfort foods, including Bosco sticks—the cheese-stuffed breadsticks of Midwestern school cafeterias—and Italian beef sandwiches topped with tangy giardiniera. While they could occasionally source individual Midwestern items around Portland, they were frequently frustrated by the inability to find everything under one roof.
For Brennan Grosvenor and others championing the movement far from the Midwest, the mission is straightforward: capturing an authentic feeling and answering the simple question of what it truly means to step inside a neighborhood tavern back home.