Everything is homemade, from the dough -- which yields a crispy crust -- to the sauces. Bill's also makes the thicker Sicilian pizza, so popular a generation ago, but harder to find now.
There's no Bill at Bill's Pizzeria, but there is Dino, whose parents bought the place from the original Bill in 1976 and retired in 1991. Dino Chronopoulos runs it and had help from his younger brother, Taso. But two years ago, Taso was seriously injured when a car failed to yield and crashed into his: He was left paralyzed. Last fall, Dino organized Bill's first 5K run, raising $10,000 for spinal-cord injuries. After the race, about 500 runners repaired back to Bill's for pizza on the house. (I'll be there next year for a good cause and great pizza.)
Speaking of pizza, the meat lover at our table chose the Carnivore ($10.99 small, $16.99 large). It was "dressed," in traditional red sauce, and loaded with seasoned hamburger, marinated chicken and steak strips, pepperoni, salami, sliced Italian meatballs, sausage chunks, and bacon strips. Every crumb disappeared, and I felt like taking my husband straight to the doctor for a cholesterol check. For a lighter choice, try the Nude Veggie ($10.99, $15.99), with pesto sauce, sun-dried tomatoes, marinated artichoke hearts, and chopped garlic.
The restaurant is casual: Order at the counter, find a seat, and they'll call you. The menu is written on blackboards and includes dozens of sandwiches. We tried the classic Greek wrap ($5.79), figuring we couldn't go wrong (and we didn't) because the owners are first-generation Greek. The sandwich is basically a Greek salad rolled up in pita bread. There's marinated chicken strips, lettuce, onion, tomato, feta, black olives, and green peppers -- lots of it -- all held together with a tangy "Emilia's Greek Dressing." Emilia is Dino's mother, whose homemade dressing was so popular with the customers that they began bottling and selling it for $3.99.
