Dicey’s Brings Tavern Pizza, Frozen Negronis, and a Little Party to Lincoln Park

The Crust Is Thin, Crisp, and Taken Very Seriously

Dicey’s pizza may look carefree, but there’s considerable precision behind it. The recipes specify the exact amount of sauce and cheese, oven temperature, and what the finished product should look like: cheese fully melted and deeply mottled, with none of the pale, barely cooked patches that sometimes plague thin-crust pies.

The result is a cracker-crisp base sturdy enough to hold its toppings but light enough to make reaching for the next square inevitable. Koch grew up eating both deep-dish and tavern-style pizza with his family, who have longstanding Chicago roots. What distinguishes Dicey’s, he says, is its attention to proportion: “Everything is designed to get that specific cracker crust and the perfect ratio of cheese, sauce, and toppings to crust.”

The most popular specialty pie is the Peppy Boy, which Koch calls “pepperoni pizza on steroids.” It comes layered with pepperoni, hot honey, spicy tomato sauce, chile oil, and a shake of red pepper flakes. The sweet heat builds gradually, making it particularly well suited to a cold beer (or another square).

The Cacio E Pepe skips red sauce in favor of fresh mozzarella, parmesan cream, pecorino, and plenty of cracked black pepper. The Hippy Flip leans earthy and rich with roasted mushrooms, taleggio, mozzarella, parmesan, and green onions. For something especially Chicago-minded, there’s sausage and giardiniera; for the Hawaiian-curious, Dicey’s swaps the usual Canadian bacon for crisp, smoky bacon. “We want people to experience what tavern style can be when you really put a little oomph into it,” Koch says.

The Snacks Understand the Assignment

The rest of the menu stays focused. Unlike the sprawling tavern menus that venture into pasta, burgers, and seemingly every appetizer ever invented, Dicey’s keeps its lane narrow: pizza, salads, sandwiches, wings, and a collection of highly shareable snacks.

The garlic parmesan tater tots are almost comically crisp outside and soft and pillowy within, showered with cheese and served with a Calabrian chile aioli that brings just enough heat. They are exactly the sort of thing you order “for the table” and then position closer to your own seat.

The pork-and-beef meatballs arrive in a tangy tomato sauce under a generous blanket of melted cheese, finished with ribbons of fresh basil. There’s also a creamy giardiniera dip with chips, and beer-battered fried mozzarella squares served with a punchy giardiniera aioli.

The latter began as an effort to make a fresher, more distinctive version of the standard frozen cheese curd. Koch, who spent six years working for Farmhouse and Farm Bar, remembered the excellent made-to-order curds there and challenged the Dicey’s kitchen to try something similar. Within about 30 minutes, he says, the chef had turned mozzarella already in the kitchen into a beer-battered, cheese-curd-like snack. It proved so good that it earned a permanent place on the menu.

Come Thirsty (and Start With Something Frozen)

Dicey’s shares a bar with neighboring Parson’s, which means it also inherits one of its sibling restaurant’s greatest assets: frozen drinks. The Negroni slushy is a standout, bitter and citrusy but softened by its creamy texture. The other machine is devoted to a rotating flavor—perhaps a cinnamon-spiced daiquiri, a frozé, or one of the dozens of frozen drinks the team has cycled through over the years.

The beverage program also includes local beer, cocktails, branded Dicey’s and Parson’s brews made in collaboration with Hopewell Brewing, and a surprisingly deep amaro selection. Wine is where Dicey’s establishes its own identity. Bar manager Andrew Thompson has assembled a list of more than 20 bottles, with an emphasis on natural and organic producers, and plenty of choices that feel more wine bar than neighborhood pizza joint. It’s a useful reminder that cracker-crisp pizza and a chilled, slightly wild bottle of wine are very good friends.

The Space Channels Pizza-Night Nostalgia Without Getting Stuck There

The Dicey’s dining room has its own identity, but  remains connected to Parson’s by an open doorway. Walk from one side to the other and it feels a little like stumbling through a portal into a pizza parlor dreamscape of yesteryear. The effect is nostalgic, but not overly polished or precious. It feels casual enough for children happily demolishing pizza squares, cool enough for  date night, and flexible enough for a larger group bent on ordering nearly everything.

That balance is intentional. “We want people to feel that same feeling they got when they used to go out as a kid and get pizza with their parents,” Koch says. But just as important is the neighborhood-tavern ideal: a place where the staff know the regulars, conversations flow across the bar, and one visit dominoes into a regular ritual.

In Nice Weather, Follow the Garage Doors

Dicey’s opens onto Parson’s expansive patio, a lively warm-weather sprawl of picnic tables and big striped umbrellas. Garage doors blur the line between the two spaces, and Dicey’s adds bar seats and high-top tables near the openings, creating an easy indoor-outdoor perch for pizza and a slushy.

There are 18 to 20 outdoor seats on the Dicey’s side, including stools along a bar built directly into one of the open garage doors. When the weather cooperates, it’s a breezy place to settle in and let dinner stretch out. And when Chicago turns brutally hot, the compact dining room has another advantage: Its own air-conditioning system and lower ceilings make it genuinely cool inside.

That adaptability suits Dicey’s. It can be a place for a sunny patio lunch, an early family dinner, a round of frozen drinks with friends, or an unplanned second act when Parson’s is packed. For all the care that goes into every pie, Dicey’s never forgets the most important part of pizza night: everyone should leave happy.