[Lost] The Most Holy Pizza Ever: Pizzus Crust, Seochon

There is a certain kind of place that knows exactly what it is — and Pizzus Crust, from the moment you read the sign, makes absolutely no apologies.

It was a pun and a church and a pizza counter, all at once.

From NY 2 Seoul, via Somewhere Holy

The facade along the Seochon alley was unmistakable: a low, single-story building with traditional curved roof tiles sitting above red brick and matte black trim, gold-edged window frames, and Gothic script across the front announcing The most holy Pizza ever, Pizzus Crust. An Italian flag hung from the eave. A Kansas City Chiefs arrowhead glowed neon in the window. A row of blue stadium seats stood outside on the pavement like a minor-league dugout. It was a lot — and that was entirely the point.

The name is a wordplay on Jesus Christ, rendered in pizza. Pizzus Crust. The joke is obvious, and yet the execution inside made it feel more like a thesis than a gag. The brand identity — the concept, really — was built around the intersection of American sports fandom, New York street-food sincerity, and a very specific strain of irreverent sacrilege that never quite tips over into offense. It held the balance with surprising confidence.

The Interior of a Sect

Inside, the space felt like a chapel someone had assembled from mismatched American memory. Exposed wooden beams ran along a pitched ceiling, and a crystal chandelier hung from the center like a relic borrowed from a different religion. The walls were covered in sage green floral damask wallpaper — ornate, layered, the kind of pattern that belongs in a Baroque sitting room — which made the American flag draped floor-to-ceiling in the back room feel simultaneously incongruous and completely deliberate.

The centerpiece was the display counter: a curved, antique wooden vitrine with a glass top, stacked with folded dark green sweatshirts bearing the Pizzus Crust logo and the words Gwanghwamun, Seoul / Anno 2023. Behind the counter and up the wall, a row of skateboards had been arranged to reconstruct the Last Supper — da Vinci’s composition, faithfully reproduced across the boards, except that the table was set with pepperoni pizza and cups of Coca-Cola. A gold shell-shaped sconce was mounted at the center, with a small dried-flower garland tied beneath it in black ribbon.

On the opposite wall, framed certificates and ornamental documents hung in gilded frames — the accumulated paperwork of a holy office. Around the corner, a Patrick Mahomes jersey — number 15, Kansas City Chiefs red — was mounted behind glass under a picture light, illuminated like an altarpiece. Beneath it, a boombox buried under a mound of silk flowers sat on a sticker-covered skateboard deck. A stepladder leaned against the American flag. The logic was consistent even when the objects were not.

The Slice

It was New York-style, and it was sincere about that. The menu was straightforward — NYC Cheese, Pepperoni, Bacon’n Jalapeño — available by the slice or as a whole pie, with the addition of specials printed on hand-styled posters taped around the space. Each round table came set with a shaker labeled HELLO my name is PARMESAN and a card: Best Way 2 Enjoy Your Slice. The instructions were practical — fold it, shake the crushed red pepper, appreciate it. The pizza arrived on a steel plate, wide and floppy at the tip in the way that a New York slice should be.

The sandwich board outside read Pizza delicious. Pizza gracious. It was not wrong.

Where the Slice Lives Now

The Sajik location is gone. But the pizza survives — in a somewhat unexpected setting.

Graphic by Daeshin (그래픽 바이 대신) is a large-format manga and art book café that started in Itaewon before expanding to Wirye in Songpa-gu, occupying multiple floors of a building backed by Daeshin Securities. The Wirye location’s first floor houses a pizza counter called Pizzus, operating directly with the recipe and blessing of Pizzus Crust. It is a strange new home for a slice that once lived inside a neon-lit chapel in Seochon — but then again, a manga café with no-weapons signs and unlimited drink refills is perhaps not so far from the spirit of the original.

New locations for Pizzus Crust may follow. The Instagram suggests as much.