An American Tradition

America's majesty and beauty of her culture are often celebrated in the spirit of her people, the diversity of her heritage and the inspirational tale of her finest cuisine.


Angie, Kyle and Bubba

Once upon a time there was a place where families could go to eat homemade pizza and breadsticks while enjoying the company of family and friends. Filled with wooden picnic tables and pinball machines, and warmed by glowing hearth fires and smiles, the owner knew every patron by name even though his waitresses called them "honey." The service was quick and friendly, and if the customers didn't get a hug or a pat on the back on the way out the door, the girls made sure they had a cookie. Nestled on the corner of Alto and Dixon, this cozy little pizza pub became an American Dream for one and an American Tradition for a family.



Mike O'Connor opened Mike's Pizza thirty years ago, serving my family and our friends every Friday night. His establishment has grown and evolved with the community, and even though the name and decor have changed, the service and food remain the same. It feels good to visit Mike's place when we are in town, and it feels even better to know that his patrons are treated as an extension of his family, his hospitality is always the welcoming draw, and his cheese sauce remains his best kept secret.



You never know when a little taste of heaven will collide with yeast and butter. When I was but a glimmer in my mother's dark brown eyes, I'm pretty sure Mike was in the kitchen, perfecting the art of the appetizer.

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On Saturday evening, July 2nd, following my uncle Timmy's baptism, the Name family gathered at our old stomping grounds to give thanks for our many blessings, to fill our bellies with a little bread and to share one of our beloved family traditions with the next generation of pizza connoisseurs.



Sammie and Xavier wasted no time sampling Kokomo's version of the Neopolitan original. Amidst the giggles and harmonious pleas for seconds, Sammie showed off her tomato-stained grin while Xavier pondered how his Momma could improve her own culinary skills.



Our sweet baby Emerson, secretly plotting with a smile, had the honor of sitting at the head of our table. I must always remember to keep an eye on this little rascal. While X was diverting my attention by scaling the adjacent booth, Emer was trying to sneak some sauce in his sippy.



Bubba, our blue-eyed megawatt of sugar-powered energy, tested the strength and durability of the upgraded seating. Stopping momentarily for a swig of refreshing soda, he rested only long enough to rejuvenate his fiery spirit and high-voltage smile.



The roads of life are full of adventure and camaraderie. The next time you find yourself traversing the amber fields of Highway 26, take a scenic side trip through the western heart of town. Mike's Pizza grills up Italy with a down home Hoosier twist, so if the deep dish doesn't tempt you, try a breaded tenderloin, spicy stromboli or cinnamon sugared elephant ear. American traditions can begin with a slice of pizza pie. Take a chance on something new and if your belly forgets to thank you, your taste buds surely will!