The Chicago deep dish pizza

What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet

Shakespeare was talking about roses and their smell. I am talking about pizza here, but the issue is potentially the same, so bear with me.

Let's assume you are not from Chicago, but that while visiting the city you enter into a spectacular garden. It is full of beautiful flowers that you have never seen in your life. Flowers that look like this:

Let's assume you don't know the name of these flowers (this is a camelia, but let's forget this for a second). So you ask the owner of the garden, and he tells you that these are Chicago roses. You may have two reactions: you may think that this is ridiculous, because roses do not look at all like this, and everybody knows it. Or you can smile at the use of such a strong and recognizable name for a flower that is is obviously not a rose, but you can still appreciate the beauty of the Chicago rose, its color, its delicate smell.

And now let's talk pizza.

Everybody knows what a pizza is. Even a bad pizza eaten at a chain anywhere in the word will be recognizable: a round flat disc-shaped bread, often topped at least with tomatoes and cheese, but more often than not with other stuff as well. A basic (and delicious) real pizza, looks like this:
Well, this has nothing to do with the Chicago deep dish pizza. The Chicago deep dish pizza is basically a big pie, often 8cm (3 inches) high, filled with cheese and tomato. Now, try to visualize 3 inches. It is A LOT. It looks like this:

Can you spot any difference with the previous pizza? As you can see, this thing is a beast. It comes in different sizes, and normally you cannot eat more than two big slices before entering into a pizza-induced coma. Interestingly enough, Chicagoans would adopt the "two slices" maximum approach also when eating a traditional Neapolitan pizza, which doesn't make much sense to me. But I guess it is a question of habit.

One thing that annoys me a lot is that you have to wait 45 minutes for this pizza to cook. And the Tuscan Foodie is impatient, when it comes to food: I cannot sit down at a table and not have my food served within 15 minutes, or else I will go ballistic (incidentally, one may wonder how I survived Belgium, where the average waiting time is one hour).

You may wonder why a real Italian would love a Chicago deep dish pizza. Many of my few Italian acquaintances in Chicago refuse to even consider the possibility to eat it. They take pride in their refusal, and they simply say che schifo (how disgusting). But when I asked them have you actually ever tried it?, the answer is always No. I don't need to. It stinks.

I am at a point that I don't even try and reason with people like this. I just move on. My approach is very different: go back to the roses. Although it has nothing to do with the original pizza, the chicago deep dish pizza is simply delicious. I am not bothered by what a dish is called if that dish is good. And oh-boy, is that pizza good.

Obviously you can find pizzerias in Chicago that also sell the real pizza (they call it thin crust). My favorite is the one made by Nella, on North Clark. But I am a strong believer that when in Rome...

I have tried most of the iconic deep dish pizzerias in Chicago: Giordano's, Gino's East, Pizzeria Uno, Edwardo's, Lou Malnati's. This is what I think of them.

Gino's East, multipile locations.
This was my first contact with a Chicago pizza. I will never forget it...a true first time. As all first times, it was clumsy, and not what I expected. I knew that the Chicago pizza was a force to be reckoned with, but I had underestimated it. Together with my wife, we ordered a LARGE pizza (that we then discovered was good for 6 people...) and ordered cheese sticks as appetizers. We obviously couldn't finish the whole thing. But I loved it, at the time. Not so my wife, who thought that the tomato sauce had some kind of strange flavor.

After having eaten in other pizzerias, I must admit that Gino's east is not one of the best. And the problem is the sauce, as my wife had indicated. But I love the fact that it contains a lot of cheese and is so tall (it is probably the tallest of all those I have eaten).

By the way, if you are into graffitis you will love this place.

Overall score: 7/10

Edwardo's, multiple locations
Now, Edwardo's could potentially be the best pizza. But it comes with a huge problem: the locations where you eat them (at least in the Loop) are so sad that you may start crying on your pizza. And that's not good. Less cheesy than Gino's, but with the right amount of tomato sauce.

Overall score: 7.5/10

Giordano's, multiple locations
The problem with Giordano's is that there is almost no sauce whatsoever. So you end up eating a gigantic cheese pie. Nothing wrong with it in theory, but I like tomato on my pizza. I don't like the fact that they put the pepperoni at the bottom of the filling, not on top of the tomato sauce, like in the traditional pizza.

Overall score: 6.5/10

Pizzeria Uno's
This was such a disappointment. Everybody kept on telling me that this was the best pizza in Chicago. Well, I disagree. I thought it was too thin (still comparatively speaking...), and it lacked in flavor. But the location is actually quite nice.

Overall score: 5/10

Lou Malnati's, multiple locations
My wife thinks this is the best. Why? Because it is the thinnest of all the Chicago deep dish pizzas, the most similar to the traditional Neapolitan pizzas. Which is exactly the reason why I am not 100% convinced: it is too close to the original, without being the original. What's the point? But still, it has probably the best of both worls.

In the end it gets the best score. And I am sure my friend Loris, who wanted to go back to this pizza place twice during his recently visit in Chicago, will appreciate.

Overall score: 8/10