(bluesy electric guitar music)
- [Bill] I'm Bill Addison,
Eater's ever-roving national critic.
Chicago is one of the country's defining food towns.
When visitors come to graze through
its remarkable dining scene, they often zero in
on one of the town's most famous creations: deep dish pizza.
Love or loathe these cheesy, crusty monsters,
everyone's got opinions on who makes the best.
When I first started roaming the country for Eater
a few years back, I polled Chicago food writers
and they all sent me to one institution
in the Lincoln Park neighborhood: Pequod's.
- Throughout the years, people have started to look for
places that were non-corporate, non-big chain.
They want that little secret nichy place,
whether it's the bar that nobody knows about
or the small little pizzeria
that has a unique caramelized cheese pan pizza.
(upbeat harmonica music)
- One reason why Peqoud's isn't a household name
like some of the other pizza chains are
is that it's not downtown, so it's something you discover
after you've lived here for a while,
but it definitely has that position as a favorite.
Everybody has a pizza rotation, basically,
of the places you order from,
and hardly anybody doesn't have Pequod's in their rotation
is the way I think of it.
It's not like anywhere else.
It's completely unsubtle.
Chicago pizza in general is unsubtle,
acidic, it's sharp, it's overdone,
there's way too much cheese,
you'll probably feel bad tomorrow
after eating too much of it,
and that's what Chicagoans love.
Ike Sewell and Rudy Malnati, Sr.,
started Pizzeria Uno, Pizzeria Due.
That's really where pizza comes from in Chicago.
It probably existed out in the neighborhoods
where there were Italian-Americans,
but it's not until somebody opens a place downtown
that it gets a lotta publicity,
that people start talking about it.
(upbeat banjo music)
People talk about deep dish as if it's all one thing,
and there's really three different styles of deep dish,
and I think that's important.
First is the one that was invented at Pizzeria Uno,
probably by Rudy Malnati, Sr.
It's a short crust, so it's kind of a crispy
almost biscuity-like crust.
In the '60s, we got what's called stuffed pizza.
You've got about an inch of cheese,
you've got a second crust on top of that,
and then you've got the tomato sauce
on top of that second crust.
The other kinda pizza came from bakeries,
probably back into the teens and '20s,
and that's the style that Pequod's comes out of.
It's like a really well-done grilled cheese sandwich
or something like that.
And it's funny, you'll see people who will eat the pizza
and then they won't finish the crust.
That's like, you're missing the best part!
- [Bill] The secret to Pequod's greatness
is the halo of cheese layered directly around the pan
on top of the crust.
The cheese melts into a crispy, chewy, blackened ring.
Imagine the burnt edges of lasgna
taken to delicious extremes.
The crust is substantial, but not overwhelming.
And this pizza can handle the toppings,
so you'll wanna ask for a blanket of sausage
and mushrooms and green peppers.
(upbeat blues music)
- What I really thrive on
is the guy who comes in with the heavy New York accent,
"I'm here to test it and I'm gonna prove you wrong."
And I'm like, "Here it is."
And then I come back in a little bit
and they get this long, sad face and they're like,
"You're right, I love it."
I've been eating it for 25 years.
It's just like, you just crave it.
- [Bill] So, whether you think you love or loathe
Chicago-style deep dish pizza,
head to Pequod's before you make your final verdict.
I know I'm a convert.
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