Lupi’s Pizza Pies: Wholesome, funky, and fun dining
Lupi’s Broad Street location is closed on Monday when I stop by for a visit. I’m about to tap on the door when a big guy carrying a trash bag barrels out.
“Dorris?” he says, when I ask for Dorris Shober, owner of Lupi’s Pizza Pies. “She’s here.”
And she is, hurrying to greet me as I step inside.
Even on a “closed” day, Lupi’s is bustling. The place smells like soap and flowers, and a radio is turned up loud, making a joyful noise to the gods of pizza and fun. While Dorris steps off to turn the music to talk-able levels, I check out the local art for sale on the walls: a psychedelic girl covered in tattoos, an enormous 3D pizza cheese slab full of found objects, dreamy nature scenes of sunlight and haze.
The downtown location has just expanded last year, Dorris tells me; now, after 23 years they have extra seating space—and more room for video games and art!
Think about it: on Broad Street alone, Lupi’s has been making pizza, calzones, salads, bruschetta, lasagna and other treats for an average of 400 guests a day, six days a week, for 23 years. That’s more than 28 million tasty meals. And that’s just one location.
“It’s amazing,” says Dorris, smiling, as we figure up the total—though in fact she looks more happy than surprised. “Lupi’s has a life of its own and we just maneuver it around a bit. People ask ‘How do you do it?’ It is such a culmination of everyone who works here, not just today, but for the past 20 years.”
Those people stay with Lupi’s a long time. They’re friendly and kind. When I went to Lupi’s with a differently abled friend, the clerk listened carefully until she understood my friend’s words and special menu requirements. There was a line, but the clerk didn’t look impatient. She was fully present with us until we had exactly what we needed.
Happiness builds karma. When you go to Lupi’s, that’s some good-karma pizza pie.
What are the ingredients of good-karma food?
Wholesomeness. Many of Lupi’s ingredients are locally sourced; much of the pork and beef—as well as herbs, vegetables, and fresh flowers—comes from Lupi’s own Flying Turtle Farm, whose manager used to be a restaurant employee. Other products come from nearby farms, too: Signal Mountain Farm, Myers Farm, and others.
Giving. Meanwhile, Dorris says, restaurant leftovers, from wilted lettuce leaves to discarded pizza slices, are given back to Flying Turtle and the animals who live there. “The restaurant feeds our animals and the animals feed our customers,” Dorris explains. “It’s a circle of life story.”
Too, huge bundles of fresh flowers arrive every week to decorate the restaurants, a gift to customers and employees. Over and over Dorris describes Lupi’s work as a gift—giving to customers, workers, animals.
Respect. “We treat each other with respect,” says Dorris. “This is a safe space for employees and customers, too.” Children to nonagenarians—all can expect to be treated well at Lupi’s.
Consistency. Lupi’s menu has been reliable for years, and the food is consistently good, simple, and delicious. Fresh veggies. Succulent meats. No far-out seasonings. Fragrant white and whole wheat dough you could eat by itself, every day, as your daily bread.
“I could eat here every day,” says Dorris. That’s a testament in itself. She’s brown with the sun and she seems to shine; her eyes sparkle; her hair glows. I’m not talking about beauty so much as a radiance of wellbeing. Clearly, whatever she’s eating every day is wholesome and joyful.
Should you come to Lupi’s? I mean, that’s a silly question. If you’re reading this, you probably live in Chattanooga, and you’ve probably been to Lupi’s. Well, you should come more.
Maybe every day.
Visit Lupi’s at one of five locations: Downtown at 406A Broad St., in Hixson at 5504 Hixson Pike, in East Brainerd at 1414 Jenkins Rd., in Cleveland at 2382 North Ocoee St., and in Ooltewah at 9453 Bradmore Lane, Suite 109.
You can also find Lupi’s at the Chattanooga Market every Sunday, or online at lupi.com. To place a catering order, just email lupi@lupi.com