In the suburbs of Chicago where they both grew up, ordering pizza was never a complicated philosophical debate about style; it was simply a matter of choosing between thin-crust, deep-dish, or double-dough, according to Brittany and Brennan Grosvenor, the couple behind Proof in Portland, Oregon. Brittany recalls her family’s Friday night tradition with a straightforward simplicity that many Midwesterners share. While the Grosvenors now sell the former style at Proof, the regional language of "thin crust" has naturally given way to the more nationally recognized phrasing of "tavern-style," reflecting a massive pizza trend that has steadily swept from coast to coast over recent years.
Outsiders looking in might historically associate the Windy City with its famous, towering, tourist-beckoning deep-dish pizza, but Brittany notes that this stereotype is simply not reflective of everyday reality. She cites deep dish as a much less frequent, novelty treat compared to the ubiquitous Midwestern thin-crust style that is currently gaining immense popularity across the United States. The pizza you get every single week, or the pie ordered to feed a crowd at a kid’s birthday party, is always tavern-style, she explains.
This beloved style of pizza, which is deeply prevalent across the entire Midwest—with cities like Chicago, Milwaukee, towns throughout Minnesota, and St. Louis all touting their own similar iterations—is widely known for its exceptionally thin, cracker-like crust. Rather than being cut into traditional triangular slices, a tavern-style pie is systematically sliced into a grid, or a lattice. Depending on the specific region and the neighborhood pizza shop where one’s culinary nostalgia lies, the underlying sauce might lean distinctly sweet or spicy. However, a remarkable lightness and an intense, satisfying crispness remain the style’s unique selling points. Writing for Esquire in 2023, critic Omar Mamoon called the variant—which was then still on the rise—a direct foil to the famously thick Detroit-style pizza, which had enjoyed its own major cultural moment in the late 2010s.
The true beauty of the tavern-style pie lies in its inherent shareability and social utility. A pizza yields significantly more individual pieces when cut into a grid rather than into standard triangles, explains Bradley Shorten, the culinary mind behind both Kim’s Uncle Pizza in his hometown Chicago suburb of Westmont, Illinois, and the recently opened La Merna in Washington, D.C. Pizza cut into small, bite-sized squares makes for exceptional drinking food, especially since a single square fits effortlessly onto a cocktail napkin. According to Shorten, what makes a truly good pie is that every single square features a balanced distribution of every ingredient, with the toppings stretching all the way to the absolute edge of the crust. And while the four small corner slices might not objectively be the "best" ones structurally, Shorten observes that they are invariably the pieces that everybody goes for first, particularly if those diners happen to hail from Chicago.
Over the past few years, as neighborhood taverns have become growing fixations for a new cadre of restaurateurs, the classic "party cut" pizza and dedicated tavern-style pizza spots have also become completely ubiquitous. Recent high-profile openings include 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 abundant and deeply cherished. For many displaced Chicagoans, these new openings across the country present a welcome opportunity to correct the record regarding their hometown’s diverse pizza culture, while other Midwesterners seize the chance to claim their own stake in the region’s rich pizza heritage.
When Mike Fadem opened the second location of his popular New York City pizzeria Ops—an establishment widely known for its wood-fired, Neapolitan-esque pies featuring leopard-spotted crusts and pliant dough—he deliberately wanted to offer something entirely new to his clientele. Fadem originally hails from St. Louis, where the city’s namesake pizza is notoriously super-thin. Despite his deep personal fondness for it, Fadem readily admits that it is maybe not the absolute best version of tavern pizza, noting the iteration’s many vocal critics, some of whom take particular issue with its traditional use of Provel, a gooey processed cheese. The evolutionary trajectory of tavern-style pizza, he explains, has resembled a culinary game of telephone: St. Louis-style pizza was derived from thin-crust Chicago pizza, which itself originally evolved from traditional Neapolitan pizza. Noticeable divergence has accompanied each geographic and cultural jump.
Meanwhile, one of Fadem’s key employees at Ops hails from New Jersey, a state that proudly claims its own distinct thin-crust, tavern- or bar-style pizza tradition, much like the famous bar pies of the Boston area, which maintain their own intensely devoted following. Inspired by these overlapping traditions, Fadem began exploring whether they could successfully craft an Ops version of the style. With Ops already widely known for its exceptional sourdough program, Fadem also wanted to highlight the rich, complex flavor profiles of whole grains, while ensuring the crust achieved an extraordinary crispness—a quality he says immediately draws in local New Yorkers. Fadem’s unique take appears on the menu under the regionally agnostic name "tavernetta." Although St. Louis and New Jersey served as the initial conceptual inspiration, the best pizza encountered during his extensive research was actually found in Milwaukee. Today, the Tavernetta has not displaced the other established pies at the restaurant; instead, it is frequently ordered as an addition to the meal, with most groups at the table getting at least one to share.
In June, Los Angeles cocktail destination Bar Next Door celebrated its third anniversary by officially adding a dedicated food menu. Previously, the popular bar had allowed customers to conveniently bring in pies from Prince Street Pizza next door, largely because Prince Street co-owner Lawrence Longo is a partner in the establishment. However, bar owner and beverage director Brynn Smith observed a common culinary limitation with that arrangement. After having a heavy slice, people sometimes get a little too full and decide they want to head home and go to bed, Smith notes. That runs counter to the primary business goal for a cocktail lounge: keeping guests lingering a little longer so they can order more drinks. Smith and her team concluded that tavern-style pizza would be the perfect solution. The fact that these pizzas—technically listed on the menu as "bar pies" to better align with the establishment’s sophisticated name—are made exclusively for the bar by Prince Street simply adds another compelling reason for patrons to go out for the evening.
The fundamental idea of the tavern as a warm, social, and convivial space is entirely inseparable from the culture of tavern-style pizza itself. Shorten’s primary goal with La Merna—which he proudly runs alongside his wife Meg Schmitt, who grew up in St. Louis—was to recreate the authentic feel of a classic Chicago dive bar or a traditional Wisconsin supper club. These are spaces defined by dark wood-paneled walls and checkered floors, where patrons can comfortably slide into a red leather booth to order pitchers of beer and shareable pizzas, settling in for a long evening of casual camaraderie. As noted in previous food culture reporting, the rising aesthetic appeal of the "tavern" vibe across restaurants nationwide is deeply rooted in a collective desire for homey, lived-in environments. At these neighborhood taverns, diners are implicitly invited to sprawl out and stay awhile, shedding pretense and tapping into something deeply comforting in its familiarity. For millions of people, this comforting atmosphere is perfectly exemplified by the cultural archetype of the hometown pizza shop, which remains forever tethered in our collective imaginations to the trappings of a simpler era.
It is precisely for this reason that, out in Oregon, the Grosvenors have started serving their own careful interpretations of Bosco sticks—the nostalgic stuffed breadsticks familiar from Midwestern school cafeterias—alongside classic Italian beef sandwiches loaded with giardiniera. While they could occasionally track down certain isolated Midwestern hits around Portland, they were frequently frustrated by the inability to find everything authentic in one single location. As Brennan Grosvenor summarizes their culinary philosophy, they are simply trying to embody the complete feeling of walking into a neighborhood tavern in Chicago and knowing that whatever you crave is waiting right there on the menu.