Standing in front of a beer tap serving Chicago’s Goose Island pale ale at a restaurant north of Vatican City, server Elisa Serracini describes why she’s somewhat fond of a different Chicago export: deep dish pizza.
“I really appreciated it,” Serracini said of the time she and her boyfriend tasted the Chicago delicacy. “It’s very different from Italian pizza, so if you order it with the Italian pizza idea in mind, [you] could be…” Serracini trails off.
“Disappointed,” her co-worker chimes in.
The two were talking with WBEZ and Sun-Times reporters who were on the hunt for the Chicago staple, prompted by Mayor Brandon Johnson’s visit to Rome this week. Before taking flight, Johnson repeated a now-common catchphrase that nods to Pope Leo XIV’s roots:
“Everything dope, including the pope, comes from the greatest freaking city in the world — the city of Chicago,” Johnson said to a roaring crowd at a send-off party on Chicago’s South Side.
But what about one of Chicago’s most well-known contributions to the food world, deep dish pizza? Has Chicago’s ‘za made any mark in the pizza capital of the world, Italy, where mouth-watering, world-renowned pie with a perfect crunch is plentiful?
Reporters started at a place that no one in Rome would go for pizza: at Hamerica’s, a restaurant with the slogan “The United Tastes of Hamerica.”
Serracini serves up chicken wings, burgers and fries to ex-pats or curious locals. On this day, the chain’s only customer is exclaiming about American football while on speaker phone. No deep dish is being served.
“We had [deep dish] like two months ago. I think we’re gonna have it back next year,” Serracini said. “There are a lot of people that ask for it, even when we don’t have it available” because “everyone wants something new,” her co-worker added.
Reporters venture 15 minutes down the road to find the original location of Bonci Pizzarium. The famous pie purveyor serves what could arguably be described as a more well-put-together, distant cousin of deep dish — Roman-style pizza al taglio, or pizza by the cut, priced by the weight of how much a customer desires. It’s a square or rectangular (a win for the pizza grid system). The crust is thick but light, like focaccia, and smothered in toppings.
Customers in this pizza joint devour their slices — no utensils needed — and no one has ever heard of deep dish.
“No, no, no,” said Tony Russo as he looked at a picture of an iconic cheese-pull from a deep dish slice.
Russo and his partner, Clara Miuccio, are authorities on the topic — they own their own pizzeria in Sicily, and Miuccio’s father ran a pizzeria in New Jersey for 40 years, she said.
“Chicago pizza?” Miuccio asked, bewildered at the triangular pile of cheese, tomatoes and crust as she inquired about its ingredients.
A last ditch effort, or rather a white flag, led reporters to Dar Poeta, a famous pizza place on a narrow brick road, shaded by ancient trees and buildings just off the Tiber River. Known for its classic, crispy thin crust with red or white sauce and served whole, cut by the customer at the table, Dar Poeta would not be serving deep dish, nor had its employees ever muttered the phrase.
A mother and daughter from California sipped an Aperol Spritz while waiting for their food. The daughter, Jill Grimes, knew a thing or two about comparing authentic Italian pizza and deep dish — she worked at a restaurant, the owners from Italy, that served both.
“I think [deep dish] is too doughy. What I like about authentic, thin crust pizza, is that you get a bite of everything, and it feels even,” Grimes said.
Her mom, Jennifer McCool, is not as picky.
“We love all pizza in California,” she said. “For me, pizza is like sex… it’s pretty good, even when it’s not so great… [except] Little Caesars.”
Last year, Chicago pizza appeared at an unlikely place in Rome — in Saint Peter’s Square at Leo’s weekly general audience mass. A group from Chicago brought his Holiness an authentic personal from his favorite pie factory, Aurelio’s in suburban Homewood. He spotted their sign in the crowd and accepted the pizza.
At Wednesday’s weekly papal audience, there was no pizza to be found.
But Jill and Jay Stocki — a couple from Downers Grove — donned Sox shirts as they shared their hopes for the meeting between Johnson and Leo. They both want a blessing from the pope to keep the Bears in Chicago, not Arlington Heights. And they’d like Leo to come back for a hometown visit.
“If we could get the Pope to Chicago, I think that would mean a lot not only to Catholics but also the entire population in Chicago and the United States,” Jill Stocki said.
The two are on a vacation that happened to align with the mayor’s trip. Will they search for a deep dish slice while they’re here?
“No, not deep dish! We’ve got the best at home,” Jill Stocki exclaimed, making the point that, when in Rome, you don’t really need to seek out deep dish pizza.