Author Of 'Pizzapedia,' A Book About Pizza History, Shares His Memories
The food paintings of Dan Bransfield have the airiness of sidewalk doodles. Run across one in the New Yorker or in a Whole Foods circular — two places you may have seen the Oak Park native's warm, nostalgic illustrations — and it's hard not to admire how even his most contemporary subjects can lose their edges.
Consider "Pizzapedia: An Illustrated Guide to Everyone's Favorite Food" (Ten Speed Press, $16), his sweetly slight new history. It begins with the Persian Empire and the origins of the margherita, winds through Detroit and Stouffer's, depositing you among delivery drones and practical jokes. Sacks of flour bleed into swirls of sauce, sidewalk joints soften into cliffside castles.
It's all rangy and charming, but what Bransfield skips mostly past, considering his Chicago roots, is his own pizza history. So we asked him to elaborate and illustrate.
On his family's pizza routine:
We went through a stretch where (he and his seven siblings) would order Domino's almost every day after school. We didn't eat dinner (as a family) until like 8 p.m., so it didn't spoil our appetites. We referred to our Domino's delivery man as "The Blue Boy." He was just that — a pubescent teen in a blue-and-red Domino's jacket, five sizes too big. I'm now wondering if he was old enough to drive or if it was a guardian driving him around for deliveries.
On the Oak Park pizza scene, circa early 1980s:
We would often order from Capizzi's on North Avenue. I guess that's technically Galewood. On the right, as you walked in, were booths along the wall that had mini-jukeboxes loaded with Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett and the like. On the right side, there was another room with fancier black leather booths and a full bar.
On subverting Chicago pizza stereotypes:
I don't think (my family) ever really ordered deep dish or even went out for it. The typical pizza we had was the thin, rectangular cut, tavern style — like Salerno's.
On having a new book about pizza (but not obsessing over pizza):
Don't get me wrong, I love pizza! I just don't have pizza bedsheets or anything. Visually, I love its color, warmth, simple design and texture. As a subject matter, it's rich with history and stories — it's fascinating to reflect on how this simple food from impoverished Naples came to America and proliferated. There's a kind of optimism to (pizza) ultimately, and that's probably the underlining appeal to the thing.
On living in San Francisco, 2,100 miles away from decent deep dish:
Occasionally, I get Lou Malnati's shipped to me. The order arrives boxed up with dry ice and is ready after about 45 minutes in the oven.
Dan Bransfield will be at Read It & Eat in Lincoln Park at 6:30 p.m. April 27 for a pizza-eating demo and discussion of the history of pizza. Tickets are $20.
cborrelli@chicagotribune.com