In the suburban neighborhoods of Chicago where Brittany and Brennan Grosvenor grew up, pizza was never a complicated philosophical debate. Ordering dinner on a Friday night simply came down to a familiar family routine: thin-crust, deep-dish, or double-dough. Today, the Grosvenors run Proof, a bustling pizzeria out in Portland, Oregon, where they serve the very same style of pizza that dominated their Midwestern childhood. While they grew up calling it simply "thin-crust," that regional vernacular has given way to a nationally recognized term: tavern-style. Over the past few years, this unassuming pizza trend has swept across the United States from coast to coast, redefining how Americans think about pie.
For outsiders, the city of Chicago is almost universally associated with its famous, towering, tourist-beckoning deep-dish pizza. But Brittany notes that this stereotype is simply not reflective of everyday reality. Deep dish, she explains, is reserved for special occasions or out-of-town guests, functioning as a much less frequent treat than the lightweight, crispier Midwestern staple that is rapidly gaining popularity across the nation. When you order pizza every week for a casual night in, or when you attend a child’s birthday party in the Midwest, it is always tavern-style.
This style of pizza is deeply prevalent across the entire Midwest. Major culinary hubs like Chicago, Milwaukee, Minnesota, and St. Louis all tout their own local variations of these similar pies. The style is universally defined by its thin, cracker-like crust, which is uniquely cut into a grid or lattice pattern into small squares rather than traditional triangular slices. Depending on the specific region or the nostalgic local pizza shop where a cook’s culinary roots lie, the sauce might lean toward the sweet side or carry a noticeable spicy kick. However, ultimate lightness and a resounding crispness remain the style’s defining selling points. Writing for Esquire in 2023, food writer 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 massive moment in the spotlight during the late 2010s.
The profound beauty of the tavern-style pie lies entirely in its shareability. A single pizza yields significantly more individual portions when it is cut into a grid rather than traditional triangles, according to Bradley Shorten, the culinary force 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 bite-sized little squares makes for exceptional drinking food, largely because a piece fits effortlessly onto a cocktail napkin.
According to Shorten, the hallmark of a truly great tavern-style pie is that every single square features a balanced bite of every ingredient, with the toppings extending all the way to the absolute edge of the crust. And while culinary purists might argue that the four small corner pieces are not technically the "best" slices on the tray, Shorten points out that they are invariably the ones that everybody reaches for first, especially if those diners happen to hail from Chicago.
Over the past few years, as neighborhood taverns have become a growing fixation for a new cadre of restaurateurs, "party cut" pizzas and dedicated tavern-style pizza spots have become ubiquitous fixtures in the American dining landscape. 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 abundantly available. For many displaced Chicagoans, these new openings across the country represent a long-awaited opportunity to correct the record regarding their city’s true pizza culture. For other Midwesterners, it is a chance to claim their own distinct stake in the regional pizza conversation.
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 wonderfully pliant dough—he wanted to offer something entirely new to his clientele. Fadem originally hails from St. Louis, a city where the local namesake pizza is exceptionally thin. Despite his deep personal affection for it, Fadem readily admits that it might not be the absolute best version of tavern-style pizza, noting that the local iteration has historically faced plenty of critics, some of whom take particular issue with its heavy reliance on provel, a gooey processed cheese product.
The historical trajectory of tavern-style pizza, Fadem explains, has functioned much like a game of telephone. St. Louis-style pizza is directly derived from the thin-crust Chicago pizza tradition, which itself evolved from classic Neapolitan roots. A noticeable degree of culinary divergence has accompanied every single geographic jump along the way.
Interestingly, one of Fadem’s key employees at Ops is from New Jersey, a state that proudly claims its own storied tradition of thin-crust tavern- or bar-style pizza. The distinct bar pies of the greater Boston area also boast a fiercely devoted regional following. This rich tapestry of influences sparked a creative curiosity in Fadem: Could they successfully create an Ops version of this American bar-pizza tradition? Given that Ops is already widely celebrated for its masterwork sourdough, Fadem also wanted to highlight the deep, complex flavors of whole grains in the dough. Furthermore, he wanted the crust to achieve an exceptional level of crispness, a quality he knew would instantly captivate New Yorker diners.
Fadem’s resulting creation currently sits on the menu under the regionally agnostic name "tavernetta." Although St. Louis and New Jersey served as the initial sources of inspiration, Fadem discovered through extensive research that some of the absolute best execution of the style happened to be found in Milwaukee. Rather than cannibalizing sales, the Tavernetta has not displaced the other pies on the restaurant’s menu; instead, it is routinely ordered as an addition, with most groups at the restaurant grabbing at least one for the table.
In Los Angeles, the cocktail lounge Bar Next Door celebrated its third anniversary by expanding its operations to include a dedicated food menu. Previously, the bar had maintained a friendly arrangement allowing customers to bring in hot pies from Prince Street Pizza right next door, largely because Prince Street co-owner Lawrence Longo is a partner in the bar venture. However, bar owner and beverage director Brynn Smith noted the practical limitations of that arrangement for a drinking crowd. After consuming a heavy slice of traditional square pizza, patrons often felt overly full and ready to call it a night and head home. The primary goal for Bar Next Door was to encourage people to linger a little longer, enjoy more drinks, and extend their evening out. Smith realized that tavern-style pizza would serve as the ideal vehicle for this goal. The fact that these pizzas—technically listed on the menu as "bar pies" to better align with the establishment’s distinct identity—are made exclusively for the lounge by Prince Street simply provides patrons with yet another compelling reason to venture out for the evening.
The fundamental idea of the neighborhood tavern as a social, convivial space is entirely inseparable from the rise of tavern-style pizza. Shorten’s primary vision with La Merna—which he operates alongside his wife, Meg Schmitt, who grew up in St. Louis—was to recreate the warm, unpretentious atmosphere of a classic Chicago dive bar or a traditional Wisconsin supper club. They envisioned a space defined by dark wood-paneled walls and classic checkered floors, where patrons could easily slide into a cozy red leather booth, order pitchers of beer alongside shared pizzas, and settle in for a long, leisurely evening.
As food culture writer Francky Knapp observed last year, the surging appeal of the "tavern" vibe across restaurants nationwide is deeply rooted in a collective desire for spaces that feel genuinely homey and lived-in. At traditional taverns, diners are implicitly invited to sprawl out and stay awhile, shedding modern pretense in favor of something comforting in its utter familiarity. For millions of Americans, this feeling is perfectly embodied by the cultural archetype of the local hometown pizza shop, an institution forever tethered in our collective imagination to the trappings of a simpler, bygone era.
It is precisely for this reason that out in Oregon, the Grosvenors have also begun serving their own faithful interpretation of Bosco sticks—the iconic stuffed cheese breadsticks native to Midwestern school cafeterias—alongside classic Italian beef sandwiches loaded with spicy giardiniera. While the couple could occasionally track down certain isolated Midwestern comfort foods around Portland, they grew continually frustrated by their inability to find everything authentic under one roof. As Brennan Grosvenor explains, they are simply trying to authentically embody the feeling of walking into a neighborhood tavern back in Chicago and finding all those familiar flavors waiting for you in one place.
