If you’re reading this, you’ve probably heard the news: after 16 unforgettable years, Dimo’s is saying goodbye to Wicker Park. Say it ain’t so!

 

Goodbyes are hard. So hard, we almost skipped writing this and drowned our feelings in a slice of The Mac instead. But you all deserve better than that. And our home for the last sixteen years deserves better, too.

 

We built this place from the ground up. Literally. We still have the scars from all the DIY attempts it took to get this spot health-inspection ready and late-night slice-servable. We poured our hearts, souls, a whole bunch of elbow grease, and one guy’s pinky finger (sorry again, Eric) into the foundation of Dimo’s Wicker Park.

 

From the booths you love to graffiti, to the slice window you love to graffiti, to the bathroom stalls you really love to graffiti (we get it; you’re expressive), every inch of this place is packed with memories and stories inked in Sharpie, puff paint, and occasionally, our very own marinara.

 

To celebrate nearly two decades in Six Corners, we’re serving up a trip down memory lane, delivered to your desktop in a Dimo’s-branded pizza box (12” or 20”, your call).

 

For all the sentimental slice-lovers out there, this one’s for you.

 

We opened our doors on July 24, 2013 (cue the confetti cannons!). We’d been kicking it at Wrigley for almost five years, and expansion felt necessary. Who else was going to feed all the hungry hooligans past 10 p.m.? So we packed our bags, picked up our power tools, and got to work building at 1615 N Damen Ave. We gutted it, started over, and with sawdust in our eyes and ambition in our hearts, we worked around the clocked to get this place up and running.

 

That was all fine and dandy, but as innovation is our middle name (not really, but it is one of our seven pillars), we needed more. In 2015, we strapped pizzas to bicycles and let our delivery dreams run wild, weaving through Wicker Park like messengers carrying news of the birth of Christ… if he were a 20” Pepperoni 2.0 Electric Bugaloo. Rain, shine, and Chicago winter, we got our pies to your doorstep.

 

Somewhere along the way, we threw a rager that broke a bunch of tables (RIP furniture; no regrets) and hosted a bunch of other late-night events that brought you in sober and let you out stuffed and stumbling. In 2016, the Cubs won the World Series. It had nothing to do with us here at Wicker, and everything to do with Chicago. But we were there, just steps away from history!

 

2019 rolled around and we got lost in the sauce, literally. There was delicious R&D to be done, and we proved up to the task. “What makes a barbecue sauce great?”, we asked ourselves. The result, our housemade bbq sauce, that’s featured on our staple BBQ Chicken Slice, our seasonal Dad Bod slice, and that one regular’s gluten free pizza who’s special request is a drizzle of bbq sauce over their Dimo Florentine. Sounds strange, we know, but delicious, none the less. We’ll miss you, Katie!

 

Then came 2020: everyone’s collective nightmare. COVID hit. We couldn’t sling slices, but we could send them home with you. Enter take and bakes, and daily Instagram interactions with Dimitri, who taught us how to shape and bake our at home creations. In the meantime and in-between time, we turned our ovens into mask-molding machines for healthcare workers. Because even during a pandemic, we stuck to the program. People first, always. Want to read about how we molded plastic in pizza ovens? Here’s that story.

 

Every slice you know and love was born behind these questionably heavy doors. And Steve, the mastermind behind those slices? We never let him leave. Cheers to your freedom, Steve!

 

Now here we are. It’s 2025. We hit sweet sixteen and decided to close our Wicker Park chapter with love, fresh mozzarella, and a few tears from the peanut gallery.

 

Oh—and how could we forget Artist of the Quarter? That little gem was born here too, filling our walls with the heartbeat of Wicker Park: its artists. Soon, that wall will become a memory wall. This time, graffiti is encouraged.

 

We can’t begin to guess how many slices we’ve served to late-night bar crawlers, foodies, wannabe influencers, neighbors, and “I’m just on my lunch break”-ers. The number probably exists somewhere deep in a vault of data, but it’s more fun to keep guessing. Like that game we all played in elementary school. You know the one with the jar of marbles. Closest guess wins. Except this time, the jar holds a slice of Pizzaverse history.

 

The bad news? We’re wrapping up our time here this August.
The good news? Late-night slices aren’t going anywhere. We’re just two Blue Line stops away.

 

Peace, love, and pepperoni grease,
The Dimo’s Wicker Park Crew