If you had told us back then—standing behind the counter on one of those first lonely nights in Market Square, with nothing but a silent pizza oven, two hopeful hearts, and a whole lot of dough—that we’d still be at it 35 years later, we might’ve smiled politely and offered you a slice. Later, we probably would’ve laughed. Or panicked.
Because 35 years is a long time to do anything, much less run a restaurant. And yet, here we are—still flinging dough, still stirring, slicing, tossing, baking, mixing, and hoping you’ll fall a little bit (or a lot) in love with what lands on your plate.
We’ve changed—of course we’ve changed. Market Square has grown up. We’ve added locations, lost sleep, found new recipes, made new friends, and said bittersweet goodbyes to old ones. But some things haven’t changed: we’re still obsessing over the crust, still trying to get the bread just right, still listening closely when one of you says, “You know what would be good?”
That’s how this whole thing started. With people. With music. With word of mouth and stubborn hope. We grew not by marketing magic or some ten-year plan, but because folks kept coming back—and they brought their friends. And sometimes their dogs. And once, a duck. But that’s another story.
And of course, there was the infamous escargots pizza – after all this time, it’s easy to forget how hard we worked to get some attention. And it’s easy, too, for memory to change that stunt into a real-life menu item that at least one person loved. But the truth is, all we wanted was some company. Finally, it came, but, wow, what a ride: bumpy, unpredictable, and through it all what fun and fine people came along the way.
So no, we didn’t get here by being careful or conventional. We got here by being just crazy enough to believe that good food, shared with people you care about, in a place that feels a little like home, is a worthwhile way to spend a life.
And even after 35 years? That still feels true.
