A Chicagoan’s Verdict on Pizza Hut’s Chicago Tavern Pizza

Back in 2022, I began to notice a certain trend that was creeping through online food media. In a seeming attempt to manufacture a more defined sense of regionality, it seemed that many publications were highlighting specific, niche pizza styles and codifying what really made them distinct. You probably remember, for instance, the moment when cubic Detroit-style pizzas suddenly seemed to show up everywhere, or similar (less successful) efforts to take New Haven-style pizza national. But it often felt like the most reams of copy were dedicated to what many across the country now vaguely understand as Chicago tavern pizza. Out of nowhere, it was like every food blog wanted you to know that “Chicagoans don’t actually eat deep dish all year round.”

This was a bit of an odd moment for me, as a kid who grew up in the Chicago suburbs, surrounded by several styles of pizza for his entire life. I don’t believe I’d ever once heard the phrase “tavern style” as a child, nor heard anyone in Chicago say those words. What the world now thinks of as a specific style, I simply thought of as “thin crust pizza,” as opposed to the deep dish or stuffed pizzas that only tended to come out for special occasions, holiday dinners, out-of-town visitors, etc. It wasn’t until others from outside of Chicago began talking more about tavern pizza that I really started to appreciate just how different it was capable of being from the pizzas that so many grew up with in other parts of the country. Now living on the East Coast, it was also a style I grew to really miss–so I wrote this paean of praise to Chicago’s thin crust pizza style, figuring I might continue to educate a few folks about what exactly makes these topping-laden, square cut slices special.

A few years later, we suddenly find ourselves in an entirely unexpected position, where Chicago tavern pizza has been appropriated not just by food bloggers but by the second biggest pizza chain in the U.S., Pizza Hut. Yes, that’s right: Pizza Hut is now selling an entire range of what they’re calling Pizza Hut Chicago Tavern-Style Pizza, coinciding with what they’re also calling their biggest overhaul to topping options in more than a decade. It’s a major new campaign, available in seemingly all locations, and with TV advertising to match. Pizza Hut has clearly invested a lot in tavern pizza, all of a sudden.

Some of this marketing, I still find pretty confusing. Look at the little girl in that commercial, the one who petulantly exclaims that “deep dish pizza is for tourists!” In addition to disparaging her own city’s style–which people in Chicago really don’t do–is she simultaneously suggesting that Pizza Hut also shouldn’t appropriate the superior Chicago pizza style, if she’s disdainful of deep dish? Does the idea of Chicagoans being Big Mad about pizza help sell that pizza nationally? That seems to be the main takeaway here. Also: Did you know that some dine-in Pizza Hut locations–always a rarity to encounter now–are also apparently offering Chicago-style deep dish pizza as well? The company doesn’t actually acknowledge or advertise it, but the Pizza Hut Chicago deep dish clearly exists; you can watch someone on TikTok eat one as we speak. So Pizza Hut throws a bunch of money behind tavern pizza, rags on deep dish in the advertising, but then also introduces deep dish secretly to its dine-in menus at the same time? What the hell is going on here in terms of this chain’s relationship with the Second City?

Local Chicago media, unsurprisingly, has not been kind to the Pizza Hut Chicago Tavern-Style Pizza since its introduction, but this is a safe enough space to admit the obvious: If you’re writing for a Chicago food blog, then you cannot be seen praising this thing, and all the deeply uncool corporate pilfering it can’t help but represent. This could be the tastiest pizza on Earth, but you’re still not going to find positive reviews of it from media in Chicago proper. They have too much credibility to praise something so patently artificial as a Pizza Hut pie.

I, however, am a Chicago expat who has no local audience or industry cachet to worry about, meaning I’m about as free to be objective as anyone can be. So let’s taste this freaking thing!

Tasting the Pizza Hut Chicago Tavern Pizza

This pizza is available in four specialty compositions from Pizza Hut, ranging from spicy chicken sausage, to double pepperoni, to a margherita riff with “pesto swirl,” which also happens to be one of the new toppings available on any pizza. None of these particularly evoke commonly consumed Chicago pizza, however, except for the fourth variation, the “Ultimate Tavern Pizza,” which is described as the following: “A square-cut Thin ‘N Crispy crust topped to the edge with sausage, pepperoni, fire roasted peppers, onions, grape tomatoes & parmesan-oregano seasoning.”

This is clearly the closest thing on the menu to the “Supreme” or house special being offered by most of the classic Chicago pizzerias making tavern pizza in the city, so it’s also what I ordered. To their credit, the tavern-style recipes are indeed cut into the appropriate squares, which results in a wide array of textures and sizes–floppier middle pieces that are heavily loaded with toppings, ringed with crust edge pieces that are significantly crunchier, and a smattering of tiny triangular corner pieces for the folks who like the crunchy crust best. One of the appeals of tavern style pizza is that you get to choose how many of each type of pizza you prefer. You’ve seen the photos above; here’s what my pizza actually looked like in practice.

The first thing to note is that although there’s a fairly generous array of toppings, this pizza lacks enough cheese to properly hold them in place–a Chicago tavern pizza often has a thick blanket on top of all the toppings to hold them down, but here Pizza Hut clearly wants the toppings to be visible. They’ve also managed to drift toward the center somehow, concentrating the sausage and peppers there. This has also been hit heavily with what I assume Pizza Hut was referring to as their “parmesan-oregano seasoning,” which mostly seems to be dried herbs. You’ll typically find a lot of dried Italian herbs in Chicago pizza sauce, but simply slathering them over the top of the finished pizza is not quite the same effect.

One area that lands pretty close is the crust, which is arguably the most important aspect. This is legitimately quite thin, and it’s been baked to a crackery, crispy texture that rings fairly true. What it hasn’t developed is a lot of flavor, leaving this version evoking a plain Saltine. It’s close to the mark texturally, but lacks the buttery richness you want in that Chicago tavern pizza crust. The toppings are likewise fairly mediocre–average pepperoni and forgettable sausage (needs more fennel and spice) are paired with actually pleasant caramelized onions and peppers, and grape tomatoes that feel very much like an afterthought. Those little tomatoes aren’t adding much at all; perhaps they would be nice if they were marinated or something. As is, you’re largely unaware when you have one in your mouth.

The result, then, is about what you’d probably expect: Totally passable, but largely boring pizza, with the main attraction being the pleasantly crispy crust and ho-hum meat toppings. Honestly? It’s fine! I’ve had worse. I’d eat another one if offered, though I can easily find better local pizza in my own city. Obviously, this is no Barnaby’s, or Barraco’s, Aurelio’s, Pat’s or Vito & Nick’s. It’s not even a Home Run Inn, whose facsimile of tavern-style pizza can now be found in grocery stores around the country. But it’s at least a fair approximation of what makes the style different. Unfortunately, Pizza Hut’s version probably isn’t going to inspire any pilgrimages to taste the real thing at the source, but if you believe the angry little girl in the TV ad above, maybe that’s a good thing.

I suppose it’s possible that a Chicago tavern-style pizza craze will sweep the country, resulting in this new promotion becoming a permanent menu item at Pizza Hut forevermore. But judging from the fact that the company no longer produces any Detroit-style pizza, it feels significantly more likely that this new gimmick will depart as fast as it arrived, leaving the residents of the City of Broad Shoulders to continue perfecting their own neat little regional specialty in peace.

Jim Vorel is a Paste staff writer and resident beer and liquor geek. You can follow him on Twitter for more drink writing.