Antico Forno — Restaurant in Venice

Let me start by saying: I’m from New York. The city that bleeds marinara, sweats mozzarella, and argues over pizza the way philosophers argue over God. We pride ourselves on the slice—the crisp fold, the street corner aroma, the no-bullshit perfection of dough, sauce, cheese, and attitude. So when I say a pizza is good, I mean it broke through a very thick, very stubborn crust of bias.

Now, I’ve been living in Europe for the past three years. That’s three years of dodging dry crusts in Germany, frozen pizzas pretending to be artisanal in France, and disappointing "Italian-style" pizzas that taste like heartbreak with a sprinkle of oregano.

Then I walked into Antico Forno in Venice. And holy hell.

This place is not just a pizzeria. It’s a cathedral of dough. A fusion altar where Chicago’s unapologetic deep-dish heft meets the soul of Italian culinary craftsmanship. It shouldn’t work. But it does. It works like Coltrane on a good day—chaotic, beautiful, and absolutely unforgettable.

The crust is thick but not overwhelming. It’s got that crunch on the outside, softness on the inside—a carb symphony. The sauce? Bright, balanced, acidic in that sun-ripened way only Italy seems to know. The cheese doesn’t just melt—it melds. It pulls at your soul the way it pulls from the slice, all gooey and glorious. And the toppings? Real. Fresh. Generous. The kind of ingredients that don’t need to be loud, because they already know who they are.

In a city drowning in overpriced mediocrity and soulless tourist traps, Antico Forno is a goddamn lighthouse.

It was, without question, the best part of my trip to Venice.

So to the team at Antico: from the bottom of my pizza-snob New Yorker heart, thank you. You gave me something I wasn’t expecting—a slice of joy, a taste of home, and a memory I’ll carry longer than any gondola ride or overpriced spritz.

Grazie mille and shout out to my desi crew! Especially, the beautiful and charming,...

We visited Antico Forno after seeing Dave Portnoy’s high pizza review (7.8/10) about the pizza here.

When you arrive all the thick cut pizza is in a case on the street side of the restaurant and there is a menu for full sized thin crust pizzas made to order. There is no descriptions anywhere of the thick cut pizzas in the case so you just have to ask which can be a bit daunting to do when it is busy. We asked about quite a few and felt a little overwhelmed by this ordering experience. This was the only star we took off.

Other than this, the pizza was really really good. We only got the thick cut and tried 4 pieces for 2 people and it was perfect. They cut each piece into 2 so it was 8 small pieces and was great for sharing and sampling with 2 people.

Inside there is chili oil, olive oil, oregano shaker, salt and pepper, etc to add on top. Overall would recommend but be ready for a little anxiety when ordering if you experience...

One of my favorite pizzas in the world. Stumbling upon Antico Forno in Venice, Italy was like finding a hidden gem in a city already overflowing with treasures. As a New Yorker with a bias towards Brooklyn-style and Neapolitan pizzas, I approached with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Antico Forno’s pizzas have a thickness akin to Detroit-style, yet they come in a traditional round form. Intrigued, I opted for a Burrata slice.

What followed was a revelation. Unlike the heavy, gut-busting slabs you might expect from a thick pizza, this was something entirely different. The dough was light, the crust airy – it almost defied physics. It wasn’t just good; it was exceptional, perhaps one of the finest pizzas I’ve ever encountered. This wasn’t just a meal; it was an experience, a reminder that sometimes the best things are found in the most...