Zoom Pizza Factory ( 2156 N. Clybourn Ave.; ZoomPizzaFactory.com ) opened only a few weeks ago—and has already differentiated itself from the myriad pizza restaurants in Chicago.
The website reads, in part, "We believe there's nothing pizza can't do. Mainly because more than any other food, pizza speaks directly to our soul." This may sound hokey to some ( because this can be a cynical society ), but founder J.R. Werner believes whole-heartedly in the principle.
This was demonstrated to me recently when I visited Zoom at a quiet intersection in Lincoln Park. The rather amiable Werner took me on a walk-through of a place that's initially unassuming, but quite unique.
For one, there's a huge chalkboard that lists ingredients both "regular" ( e.g., banana peppers, basil pesto sauce and Spanish onion ) and "premium" ( e.g., vegan cheese, Italian beef and butternut squash ). "All of our ingredients we get fresh daily, and—as much as we can—they're locally sourced, and they're also labeled as organic, traceable, non-GMO and gluten-free" said Werner. ( No one can accuse Zoom of not being health-conscious. )
Even the base is different. "It's a different type of dough," Werner said. "We focus less on yeast and more on natural elements like heat and air flow to get a natural rise—so it's filling but not dense. You should leave here feeling satisfied, but not stuffed."
There are two entrances to Zoom, and Werner said they have different purposes. Pointing to the Clybourn door, he said, "This entrance is dedicated primarily to our mobile app [as well as] our delivery and carryout. With the app, we can track our proximity to our location—and that's how we establish your arrival time and when to prep your pizza. Then, we have our dedicated-dining entrance, for a line that queues up."
I pointed out to Werner I didn't see a menu on the site, but then he mentioned a concept I hadn't heard: "We're anti-menu, actually. We're making pizzas and zalatas; it's not too complicated. [Ingredients] are listed on the board here; you just walk up and order."
People who wait in line can choose from three different crusts ( original, ancient grain and gluten-free, with the "pizzerista" explaining everything ). You then select from a huge selection of sauces and toppings—enough that it might give indecisive people pause. To its credit, Zoom goes to great lengths to make sure there's no cross-contamination of items—even to the extent that there's a separate gluten-free oven and cooking area. ( Being gluten-free is extremely important to Werner, as he has an intolerance himself. ) BTW, the "gluten" oven is named "Lucille," after Lucille Ball and that classic I Love Lucy episode involving the conveyor belt.
My end product ( with Roma tomatoes, porchetta, Spanish onions and other items ) was as tasty as it looked—and the zalata was even better. A zalata is basically a pizza salad on this beyond-delicious crust that Werner said is a combination of "Neapolitan pizza, flatbread and Chicago thin-crust pizza," according to Werner. And it's amazing what a difference fresh ingredients can make. ( It's something I've known for quite some time, but Zoom underscores that thought. )
Zoom also is about charity. For example, the water bar offers sparkling, ambient or still water ( via Vero ) with bits of fruit you can put in it. Proceeds go to benefit Water.org, ultimately helping someone else access water who normally couldn't.
It might throw off some people at first, but Zoom is really a whole new approach to pizza. Give it a shot—there are no wrong choices here. ( Note: Werner plans to open two other sites next year, in Streeterville and the South Loop. )
