I grew up in Indianapolis in the late 50s/early 60s. My first pizza experience was carryout from Chicken Delight.

My parents always ordered a ‘Round the World with no anchovies.  The toppings weren’t bad. The crust was like cardboard and execrable. The pizza actually improved on re-heating. Somewhat.

Some years later, a small Mom & Pop operation opened up not too far from our house, called Meo’s.  That was my first encounter with thin homemade crust, homemade Italian sausage, fresh mushrooms, real mozzarella, and fennel seed on top of the pizza. A revelation!  

And then I went to college at Northwestern, and that was the beginning of my love affair with Chicago-style pizza.