| There was only one Abbie. The Bondurant restaurant’s namesake, Albert Polito, passed away in June at age 101. He’s pictured here in 2019 with his grandson, Brant Polito, and Brant’s wife, London. (Photo: Abbie’s on Facebook) |
By Mary Jane Miller
Do you remember your first taste of pizza?
My mother does. Her first slice came from Russ & Abbie’s La Pizza House, and she thought it was so rich she couldn’t imagine anyone eating it for dinner. But, of course, many people did. The big boxy restaurant Russ Reel and Albert “Abbie” Polito opened on Southeast 14th Street after World War II was a south side mainstay for more than 60 years.
It now stands empty, but its legacy lives on at Abbie’s in Bondurant. It opened as Polito’s Pizza House in 2001 and was renamed in 2018 specifically for Abbie by his grandson, Brant Polito (both pictured), the current owner.
When I told the younger Polito about my mother’s memory, he laughed. “Everyone has a story like that. I love it,” he said. “I wish I had time to sit down and hear all the stories.”
He doesn’t have much time to sit down. He’s in the kitchen mixing up dough by 6 a.m. Tuesday through Saturday and doesn’t leave until the restaurant closes. His wife and family help out, with about 10 other employees.
Together they make almost everything in house, including the garlic bread, sandwich bread and crispy thin crusts for the Italian-style pizza. “Only the gluten-free pizza crust is brought in frozen,” Polito said. “They used to make their own sausage at the old place, where they had a much bigger kitchen. We use Graziano’s now.”
On a recent visit with my husband, we ordered what my dad used to bring home as a treat on his way home from work: a sausage and mushroom pizza, a meatball sandwich and a large order of onion rings. But unlike those childhood dinners, we started with a cold beer and cocktail at the full bar.
The pizza crust is thin and cracker-like around the edges and chewy in the middle, all cut into squares. The dough’s slightly sour tang holds up well with the sausage and sauce spooned on top. “It’s a style all its own, not really like anything else,” my friend, chef George Formaro, told me. “It’s topped in a completely different way, with fennel-forward Calabrese-style sausage, with sauce and meats laid down first, then mozzarella cheese on top, and even more sauce spooned over the top.”
In the sandwich, the saucy meatballs are stuffed into a long chunk of crusty bread and held together with melted cheese. It’s served with a steak knife to slice it up to share.
And the onion rings? They’re just like I remembered, with that familiar orange tint. They’re neither too thick nor too thin and stringy, a feat the cooks at the old place achieved with an electric bread slicer.
We followed the famous advice — “take the cannoli” — and ended our meal with a sweet note. Their crispy, blistered shells are stuffed to order with creamy ricotta filling. No soggy cannoli here.
The old La Pizza House had 500 seats and often drew lines out the door. Abbie’s is cozier, with just 100 seats, and it fills up fast so plan your visit for off-peak hours or be prepared to wait. We arrived at 7:30 on a Saturday night and waited just 10 minutes outside on a comfortable bench before being led inside to a booth. A softball team in matching jerseys crowded around more than one long table, while couples filled the booths nearby. A steady stream of customers came in to pick up to-go orders, which Polito told me accounts for half of Abbie’s business. The service was quick and efficient despite the crowd.
Polito hopes to expand the restaurant in a few years with additional seating and a bar with stools to better accommodate solo diners. He also plans to install a mural of Russ & Abbie’s La Pizza House.
Many may come with an appetite for nostalgia, but it’s the food that will bring me back.
Contributing writer Mary Jane Miller has worked as a food writer, chef, cooking teacher and food scientist for various clients, including Betty Crocker, the Food Network, Pillsbury, Target and the Minnesota Governor’s Residence.
