Gelati & Peccati

While Tribute Pizza chases Neapolitan orthodoxy with wood-fired leoparding and craft beer pairings, Gelati & Peccati goes the other direction entirely: thick, focaccia-base slabs that lean Roman, sold by the slice (which is actually two when they cut them), served on paper plates you can walk down University Ave with. This isn't date-night pizza. It's the pizza you grab at 2pm on Saturday after the flea market, or the slice you eat standing on the sidewalk while your dog sniffs the lamppost.

The dual concept works because neither side phones it in. The gelato isn't an afterthought — it's smooth, dense, traditionally textured, the kind that coats your spoon and tastes like someone's nonna actually cares. They'll offer you a sample while you wait for your pizza to be cut. The whole operation runs out of a compact space with a small patio, and the guy behind the counter somehow manages to be both patient and efficient while explaining the dozen-plus pizza options to first-timers.

Parking on this stretch of University is the usual North Park nightmare — side streets or the Ralph's lot if you're feeling bold. But the turnaround is quick if you're taking slices to go, and the combo (three slices plus a drink) is the move if you're committing. The Lussuria gets consistent shout-outs. Skip this if you want New York foldables or char-blistered crust. Come here if you want spongy, olive-oil-soaked pizza that eats more like bread, and gelato that tastes like it was flown in from Emilia-Romagna yesterday.