Today, a few facts about Al Capone, courtesy of our old friend Wikipedia:
—Busted for tax evasion in 1931.
—Served time at Alcatraz.
—Was called “Snorky” by his friends.
—Looked like a guy who could handle some pizza.
Regarding that last one: meet Capo’s, a Windy City–style (and Al Capone–inspired) pizza joint from the Tony behind Tony’s Pizza Napoletana, opening Friday in North Beach.
This place looks like where ol’ Snorky might’ve hidden out during Prohibition—all exposed Chicago-brick walls and big red-leather booths, with an art deco mahogany bar. (Capone: huge art deco fan.)
You’ll come here for one of two reasons. If it’s a date, call ahead and request the Capone booth—a chaise-lounge-like corner perch. Obviously, you’ll want a pizza, which can come in one of several styles/crusts: deep-dish, stuffed, from a cast-iron pan or cracker-crust, each made from Chicago-milled Ceresota flour. (The Cadillac of flours, we hear.)
Or if you’re coming with up to 11 of your closest henchmen (or, you know, friends), opt for the Godfather booth in front. From there, you’ll summon the limited-run Quattro Forni—only 20 are prepped per day. It’s cooked four ways, including deep-fried.
Then, for a little after-dinner tipple: a nip from the roughly 100-strong whiskey list.
Snorky would want you to have this.
—Busted for tax evasion in 1931.
—Served time at Alcatraz.
—Was called “Snorky” by his friends.
—Looked like a guy who could handle some pizza.
Regarding that last one: meet Capo’s, a Windy City–style (and Al Capone–inspired) pizza joint from the Tony behind Tony’s Pizza Napoletana, opening Friday in North Beach.
This place looks like where ol’ Snorky might’ve hidden out during Prohibition—all exposed Chicago-brick walls and big red-leather booths, with an art deco mahogany bar. (Capone: huge art deco fan.)
You’ll come here for one of two reasons. If it’s a date, call ahead and request the Capone booth—a chaise-lounge-like corner perch. Obviously, you’ll want a pizza, which can come in one of several styles/crusts: deep-dish, stuffed, from a cast-iron pan or cracker-crust, each made from Chicago-milled Ceresota flour. (The Cadillac of flours, we hear.)
Or if you’re coming with up to 11 of your closest henchmen (or, you know, friends), opt for the Godfather booth in front. From there, you’ll summon the limited-run Quattro Forni—only 20 are prepped per day. It’s cooked four ways, including deep-fried.
Then, for a little after-dinner tipple: a nip from the roughly 100-strong whiskey list.
Snorky would want you to have this.
