Late night pizza in Loring Park. Mother Clucker’s bakes late, bar until 2 a.m., takeout and delivery toward 4 a.m. Wings, hoagies, chicken too.

A lot of Minneapolis pizza goes to sleep at a respectable hour. I respect respectable hours. I do not keep them.

The bar here runs into the 2 a.m. neighborhood. Takeout and delivery keep going after that, toward 4 a.m., because the people who need a pie at that hour are not going to become different people if we close the oven. Hotel guests. Overnight crews. The apartment building that makes up a shocking percentage of this city's population in about one square mile.

Late night pizza is a different order than lunch pizza. Lunch is a slice and a plan. Late night is a whole pie, extra ranch, and a short argument about pineapple that nobody wins. We will still bake the Hawaiian Luau. We will still bake Papa Diablo. We will still send jumbo wings and a toasted Italian hoagie if the pizza was only the headline.

I used to say I was an overnight guy when we ran the diner in this room. That has not changed. The menu changed. The hour did not. If you are standing on Nicollet Avenue wondering whether anyone is still willing to put dough in an oven, the answer is the building with the chicken on the sign.

Order direct if you can. Delivery apps will also find us. Either way the pie leaves this kitchen. That is the part I care about.

— Sam