There are more atmospheric pizzerias than this cavernous spot with booths and laminate tables, where a gruff and tatted cashier serves your $4 slice on a paper plate dropped unceremoniously on a tray. Doesn’t matter one bit, though, when said slice is what New York–style pizza is in its best moments: cheese melted to a burnished crispness but with a little stringy give, a brawny crust that can survive an aggressive fold or two, and kicky pepperoni, all cut into triangles the size of your head and maybe your collarbone, too. On weekends, Santullo’s stays open until the bleariest hours, elevating drunk food to high art. In terms of sheer delight per bite, there’s no better value in Wicker Park. 1943 W. North Ave., 773-227-7960