I imagine I might have some new listeners this week, and for that, I’m really grateful. Welcome to the road, and to today’s conversation with Chris Bianco, a guy that a lot of people consider the father of the artisan pizza movement in the United States. He’s got plenty of awards and accolades to back up that claim, including a current nomination for a James Beard Award as the Best Restauranteur in the country.

I’ve worked in restaurants a long time, and I know what I think makes a great restauranteur. Beyond offering great food and service, a person who’s really good at this game is someone who gives a genuine shit about the people they work with. You’ve heard me say it here before — restaurants at their best are hothouses where little misfit families form. Sometimes that’s a trauma response, where everyone bands together to make it through in spite of the hellish conditions and treatment. But when there’s real magic at a place, where everyone works together as a team, are there to support each other, that magic usually comes from the top. There’s a moment early in the upcoming conversation with Chris where you can hear for yourself exactly what I mean.

When I was in Phoenix a few months back, I went to Pizzeria Bianco on a random Tuesday just to say I’d gone. What I found, of course, was an outstanding pizza — like really great. But I also met staff who’ve worked there for a decade or more. If you know what you’re looking for, you can feel the family vibe in a restaurant, especially on a quiet weeknight. You can see them with their guard down a little, how they interact. Pizzeria Bianco — and Chris’s white table cloth restaurant Tratto, where I ate after we talked — pulse with that sense of family.

I didn’t think I’d get to talk to Chris. He’s got four restaurants in Phoenix, and it turns out another one on the way this Spring in LA (that I hope I’m still out here for when it opens). He has three young kids, and he, like every other restaurant owner out there, is still battling the effects of a stubborn pandemic that just won’t go away, no matter how much we all pretend it has. And he’s famous as fuck — people use superlatives like “legend” and “icon” when they talk about him. But Chris doesn’t go in for that sort of thing. He’s pretty egoless, a bit of a philosopher-chef who embraces easy humility.

The conversation you’ll hear in a few minutes is a bit of a high watermark for this fledgling little podcast, but not because of Chris’s notoriety. He offers himself up without guile or pretense, and we get into some of the territory I’m always hoping my guests will volunteer. He’s forthright and thoughtful, and more than anything, he’s exactly what he seems — a hardworking guy from the Bronx with a big heart and generous sensibility.

Chris Bianco started out in the back of a grocery store in 1988, and spent 20 straight years making every single pizza he ever sold. Despite all the laurels, Chris remains a canny Bronx guy whose priorities begin and end with his family and the people he works with. I hope you enjoy our conversation, and if you like what you hear, please please leave a rating and a review wherever you’re listening. If you’re new here, please follow and subscribe so you can hear all the great guests I’ve got coming up.