15 Illinois Deep Dish Dining Etiquette Rules From The 1970s That Would Baffle Today’s Pizza Fans
Remember when eating deep dish pizza came with more rules than a board game? Back in the 1970s, Chicago’s iconic pizza wasn’t simply a casual indulgence—it was treated almost like fine dining, complete with etiquette and expectations.
I vividly remember watching my parents carefully navigate these unwritten codes whenever we visited our favorite pizzerias.
From the proper way to cut a towering slice to the polite pace of savoring every bite, the experience felt ceremonial. Today’s pizza lovers, who grab a slice on the go, would be baffled by how structured and formal our deep dish traditions once were.
1. The Sacred Eighths Rule
My uncle Frank would practically have a conniption if anyone tried cutting a deep dish pie into anything but perfect eighths. “Geometry matters with good pizza!” he’d insist while demonstrating the proper technique with almost surgical precision.
Freehand tearing or rearranging slices was considered culinary sacrilege. The uniformity ensured everyone received an identical portion with the proper ratio of crust, cheese, and toppings.
Today’s casual pizza fans who break off chunks or cut irregular slices would’ve been met with horrified stares and possibly a gentle tutorial from the server about proper deep dish respect.
2. Utensils Only, Please!
Watching my father explain to out-of-town visitors why they needed silverware for pizza always amused me. “This isn’t New York street food,” he’d say with a wink. “This is civilization.”
The dense, layered construction of authentic deep dish required proper utensils—fork and knife positioned correctly beside your plate. Picking up a slice with your hands wasn’t just casual; it was downright uncouth.
The sight of today’s diners happily grabbing slices, sauce dripping down their wrists, would send 1970s pizza purists into absolute fits of propriety-based distress!
3. The Five-Minute Resting Period
“Patience separates the amateurs from the aficionados,” my grandfather would declare as we all stared longingly at the bubbling pie. The mandatory five-minute resting period after the pizza arrived from the oven was strictly observed.
Pizzeria owners would actually time it, refusing to slice until the structural integrity was guaranteed. Steam would rise hypnotically while we waited, forks poised.
Modern pizzerias slicing and serving immediately would have been considered reckless back then! The waiting period wasn’t just tradition—it was believed to enhance flavors and prevent the dreaded “cheese slide” that could ruin your dining experience.
4. Never Flip Your Slice
Aunt Sophia once gasped so loudly when a tourist flipped his deep dish slice that the entire pizzeria went silent! The sauce-side-up orientation wasn’t just presentation—it was practically law.
Chicago’s authentic deep dish construction placed the sauce layer intentionally on top to protect the cheese and toppings during the long baking time. Flipping disrupted this careful engineering and was considered disrespectful to the chef.
I still remember the mortified looks when someone would tilt their slice and cause an avalanche of chunky tomato sauce. Today’s pizza eaters who casually rearrange their slices would have received quite the education from 1970s pizza veterans!
5. Cast Iron Commitment
“The pan is part of the experience!” My favorite pizzeria owner would practically lecture newcomers who asked for their slices on separate plates. His handlebar mustache would twitch with indignation at the very suggestion.
Serving deep dish pizza in anything other than its original cast-iron cooking vessel was considered a flavor crime. The pan maintained the perfect temperature and protected the structural integrity of those thick, buttery crusts.
Today’s convenience-focused restaurants that automatically transfer slices to individual plates would have been viewed as committing a cardinal sin against the authentic deep dish experience that Chicagoans held sacred.
6. The Clockwise Consumption Order
Grandma Rose was strict about starting with the slice at the 12 o’clock position. “Order creates harmony,” she’d say while pointing to the proper starting point with her fork.
This peculiar rule wasn’t just arbitrary—it supposedly ensured the pizza was enjoyed in the optimal temperature progression as the pie cooled. Jumping around to random slices was considered chaotic and unsophisticated.
I can still picture the disapproving glances when someone would rebelliously grab from the 6 o’clock position first! Modern pizza fans who casually select whatever slice catches their eye would have been gently guided back to proper pizza protocol.
7. Personal Utensil Protocol
The special pizza forks had longer tines specifically designed for deep dish navigation! My childhood best friend’s father once stopped dinner entirely when someone tried passing their utensils to help another diner.
Each person received their own dedicated knife, fork, and pie server—sharing these tools was considered unhygienic and improper. The specialized utensils weren’t just functional but part of the ceremonial experience.
I remember restaurants keeping extra sets wrapped in cloth napkins for larger parties. Today’s casual approach to communal dining and utensil sharing would have been met with raised eyebrows and possibly a gentle reminder about proper pizza etiquette.
8. First Slice Ceremony
The ritual of offering the first slice to the host or eldest guest wasn’t just polite—it was practically ceremonial! “Honor before hunger” was my grandmother’s mantra at every pizza gathering.
I watched countless times as my father would formally present the first perfect wedge to visiting relatives or distinguished guests. The recipient was expected to accept with appropriate gratitude before anyone else could begin eating.
This formality reflected broader 1970s dining customs that emphasized respect and hierarchy. Today’s egalitarian pizza free-for-all would have been viewed as borderline anarchic by traditional deep dish aficionados who valued the social structure of shared meals.
9. The Dedicated Sauce Cloth
Uncle Tony’s special red-checkered “sauce cloth” was legendary in our family! Regular napkins were considered woefully inadequate for the substantial tomato sauce that topped authentic Chicago deep dish.
These designated cloths—often matching the tablecloths but smaller—were specifically for managing sauce spills and protecting formal attire. Using your standard dinner napkin for sauce cleanup was considered improper and ineffective.
Men with facial hair were particularly attentive to sauce etiquette, as a sauce-stained beard was the mark of a deep dish novice. Today’s casual napkin-dabbing or—heaven forbid—sleeve-wiping would have earned serious side-eye from 1970s pizza connoisseurs!
10. Pre-Seasoning Prohibition
“Trust the chef!” My favorite pizzeria had this painted on the wall, and they meant it. Adding extra seasonings before taking your first bite was practically an insult to the establishment.
The chef’s carefully balanced flavor profile deserved respect and consideration before diners reached for the red pepper flakes or oregano. Proper etiquette demanded at least two bites to fully experience the intended taste before considering any adjustments.
I still remember the withering look our server gave a businessman who immediately doused his slice with garlic powder! Today’s condiment-happy diners would have received gentle but firm guidance about respecting culinary craftsmanship.
11. The Crossed Utensils Signal
Communication without words—that’s what the crossed knife and fork signal was all about! Placing your utensils in an X formation, tines down, across your unfinished slice told servers you were taking a break, not finished.
My mother was a master of this silent pizza language. The position of your silverware spoke volumes about your dining intentions, and servers were trained to recognize these subtle cues.
Proper placement prevented premature plate clearing and indicated your relationship with the meal. Modern diners who simply push plates away or verbally declare “I’m done” would have missed the elegant, unspoken conversation that once existed between customer and server in deep dish establishments.
12. Silent Chewing Mandate
“Savor silently” wasn’t just a suggestion—it was practically engraved on the menus! The substantial nature of each deep dish bite demanded respectful silence during chewing.
Family meals at Gino’s East involved carefully timed conversations between bites. My father would actually raise his index finger to pause conversation while enjoying a particularly good mouthful of crust.
The expectation that diners would pause between bites to discuss the flavor profile seems almost comically formal today. Modern pizza gatherings with their casual chatter and multitasking would have been considered chaotic by 1970s standards when deep dish appreciation required focused attention and proper conversational pacing.
13. The Crust-First Approach
“Amateurs start with the point!” My pizza-purist uncle would practically shout this while demonstrating the proper technique. Starting from the outer crust edge and working inward was considered the only civilized approach.
This method supposedly allowed proper appreciation of the buttery crust before progressing to the richer filling. Diving straight into the center was viewed as rushing the experience and missing the architectural appreciation of a proper deep dish.
Children were specifically taught this technique as part of their culinary education. Today’s point-first eaters would have received gentle correction and possibly an impromptu lesson on proper deep dish appreciation from well-meaning servers or fellow diners.
14. The Two-Napkin Minimum
Proper deep dish dining required strategic napkin deployment! The standard table setting included at least two napkins per person—one for the lap and one for dabbing.
My mother would discreetly slide extra napkins to unprepared guests. The lap napkin remained untouched throughout the meal while the hand napkin managed minor cleanups.
Restaurants would actually judge patrons based on their napkin etiquette, with single-napkin users marked as obvious tourists. Today’s casual one-napkin approach (or worse, using paper napkins!) would have identified you immediately as an outsider to the deep dish culture that Chicagoans held sacred during the height of the 1970s pizza renaissance.
15. The Pizza Journal Custom
Believe it or not, serious deep dish enthusiasts kept pizza journals! My favorite aunt maintained a leather-bound notebook documenting every significant pizza experience, complete with detailed flavor notes and crust assessments.
Respected pizzerias actually provided small notecards for recording observations about their specific pies. Comparing notes after the meal was part of the social experience, with diners expected to articulate their impressions using proper culinary terminology.
The practice reinforced the notion that deep dish wasn’t just food—it was an experience worthy of documentation. Today’s quick Instagram posts would have seemed woefully inadequate compared to the thoughtful analysis that once accompanied serious deep dish appreciation.