You know how it is.
You’re having a lovely weekend. Kicking around. Exploring obscure side streets. Suddenly, you discover a portal that zaps you backward through time. Either that, or you find a cool pizza joint.
This is the rare case where you find both.
Enter Pizza House 1647, a new cove of Italian delights with a very old soul, now open in Bucktown.
The owner is behind Club Lucky. He was one of the originators of mid-’80s pizza phenom O’Fame, which had a 15-year run in Lincoln Park (and a short North Center stint). He’s using the same whole-wheat-crust recipe here. Yes, pizza reincarnation is truly a rare and holy occurrence.
If you’re arranging a secret pizza rendezvous—you don’t want to make your regular pizzeria jealous—remember this place. While it’s not exactly hidden (it’s near Jane’s and Cortland’s Garage), it’s secluded enough. Inside, it’s a casual mix of subway tile and aluminum chairs, with a giant, fire-engine-red pizza oven from 1954 at the center of it all.
Right now, they’re offering two kinds of pies—thin crust and double dough (their version of pan pizza)—topped with things like housemade sausage and ricotta salata. Soon, you’ll find a couple of beers and wines on tap, plus a breakfast menu that includes sfingi: big, round Italian donuts.
We won’t tell your usual sfingi guy.
You’re having a lovely weekend. Kicking around. Exploring obscure side streets. Suddenly, you discover a portal that zaps you backward through time. Either that, or you find a cool pizza joint.
This is the rare case where you find both.
Enter Pizza House 1647, a new cove of Italian delights with a very old soul, now open in Bucktown.
The owner is behind Club Lucky. He was one of the originators of mid-’80s pizza phenom O’Fame, which had a 15-year run in Lincoln Park (and a short North Center stint). He’s using the same whole-wheat-crust recipe here. Yes, pizza reincarnation is truly a rare and holy occurrence.
If you’re arranging a secret pizza rendezvous—you don’t want to make your regular pizzeria jealous—remember this place. While it’s not exactly hidden (it’s near Jane’s and Cortland’s Garage), it’s secluded enough. Inside, it’s a casual mix of subway tile and aluminum chairs, with a giant, fire-engine-red pizza oven from 1954 at the center of it all.
Right now, they’re offering two kinds of pies—thin crust and double dough (their version of pan pizza)—topped with things like housemade sausage and ricotta salata. Soon, you’ll find a couple of beers and wines on tap, plus a breakfast menu that includes sfingi: big, round Italian donuts.
We won’t tell your usual sfingi guy.
