Let’s get one thing straight right from the top: being from New York comes with an unspoken rule — we believe we’ve cracked the code on pizza. Not just “good pizza.” The pizza. The slice you fold. The slice you eat while walking. The slice you can get at 2 a.m. from a guy named Vinny who’s been making them since the Reagan administration. Paper plate. Grease drip. The whole sacred ritual. So whenever someone outside of New York brings up pizza — and they always do — there’s this inevitable reply: “Yeah, but have you had Chicago pizza?” And here’s where my internal monologue starts revving up like a cab driver approaching the Midtown Tunnel at rush hour. But I’m a grown-up now (or at least pretending to be one), and I told myself on this trip to Chicago that I would approach this like an adult professional. Be open-minded. Try new things. Learn. Explore. Maybe even embrace a different pizza culture. The Deep Dish Experience We started, of course, with the legendary deep ...