Persian Pizza, Reimagined
The sign in Café Glacé's all-glass storefront says “Persian pizza.” Now, if you were a canny Los Angeles food explorer, you’d probably suspect that this was an awkward translation of some traditional Persian dish. Maybe, you’d think, you will discover some exciting-flavored flatbread or a topped pita — some ancient Persian treasure hiding behind the Western name.
But you’d be wrong, because this is an honest-to-God, full-blooded, American-style pizza, with bell peppers and melted cheese and everything. But this is also pizza freed of any obligations of authenticity. It’s not authentically New York, nor authentically Neapolitan, nor is it trying to be. It’s made by Iranians for Iranians, guided by a distinctive, charmingly un-Italian aesthetic.
The crust is half-crisp, half-soft, a thickish, sort of spongy affair. It’s fresh, abundant, texturally complicated, made lovingly and painstakingly. It became something unique: a tiny, pita-sized, spongy-crusted, adorable jot of a pizza, piled high with carefully cubed toppings and soft melted cheese.
This is pizza like you’d find all over the streets of Tehran, explains owner Sam Alishahi. There’s no tomato sauce, just the slightest touch of ketchup — it’s the Persian style. The cheese is fresh and white and just on the cusp between juicy and oily. The top is intensely brown with a baked cheese crust; little, intense streaks of oregano peer out from beneath the cheese crackle.
Alishahi’s father, Eddie Alishahi, advances toward you with ketchup and ranch dressing. Ranch? Yup, ranch. And somehow, he’s right.
Café Glacé is casual, a real sandwich shop. Witness chips o panir: Lay’s potato chips topped with toasty melted mozzarella, a snack food popular in Tehran. “You could call it Persian nachos,” says Alishahi. It’s a late-night snack food; college students come and eat it all night long — fitting for a café so close to UCLA.
Then there are the sandwiches. They’re not dashed together but thoughtfully composed, designed by Parvin Peykani — Alishahi’s mother-in-law and the mistress of the kitchen. In Tehran, she was known for feeding everyone who came over. She’s a feeder. She loves taking care of people.
The kotlet sandwich is centered on flattened patties of potatoes and ground beef. Crisp and soft layers alternate deliberately: toasted bread, crisp lettuce, soft tomatoes and kotlet, zippy Persian pickles, then bread again. It’s orchestrated.
If you get lucky, Peykani may steer you toward the olvieh sandwich — Persian potato salad with the warmth and savor of shredded chicken breast. It’s full of very fresh ingredients, cooked to preserve their textures, then combined into something heart-warming and memorable.
There’s so much more: Iranian hot dog sandwiches, fresh fruit juices, and majoon — a shake made with bananas, dates, milk, ice cream, and pistachios that satisfies and sticks to your ribs.
And now we have Persian pizza with ranch dressing and ketchup. Eat it up already.
