Everybody knows Pizza Corner.
Summit bigwigs attending the G-7 convention in 1995 made sure to stop by (even taking some frozen donairs home with them). Producers of the Blair Witch Project visited for lunch while attending the Atlantic Film Festival. Most important, it's likely where you and your friends have wound up during some night out. Pizza Corner is Halifax's unofficial landmark at the corners of Grafton and Blowers Street. The three corners, with three pizza shops: King of Donair, Sicilian Pizza, and the European Food Shop, has been the late-night stop for hungry patrons for over thirty years.
It's seen violent attacks, buildings demolished, and the rise and fall of several politicians. It's a part of our town worth knowing. So, what's the story with Pizza Corner?
Grave implications
Our downtown location, now known for donairs and poutine, was originally much more ghastly than gastric. Both Saint Mary's Roman Catholic Church, and Saint David's Presbyterian Church (which currently occupies the fourth, non-pizza corner) used to bury their dead on the land where Grafton and Blowers now sit. Deep under the discarded crusts and asphalt, two of Halifax's oldest graveyards lay forgotten---a sobering thought next time you're stopping by for a slice.
The Greek connection
The corner's gradual shift to more palatable offerings can be traced to Constantine Manolopoulos, known affectionately as Gus. Born in Greece in 1904, Gus came to Canada during the Great Depression, and opened the successful Sea Grill Restaurant. In 1959, Gus bought a small building at 1560 Grafton, and opened the Hillcrest Grill---the home of the future King of Donair franchise.
Aside from being a restauranteur, Gus was also a tireless charity worker in Halifax. He spearheaded the Greek Canadian War Relief during World War II; efforts recognized by the King of Greece. Gus passed away in 2000, but his son John Manolopoulos still owns the Grafton Street building his father bought 52 years ago.
That greasy Grafton location wasn't the first KoD location, though. The pizza shack chain opened on Quinpool in 1973. KoD restaurant owner Nick Garonis eventually leased the space in Gus' building for an additional franchise, and Pizza Corner was born. Businessman, and notable shriner, Sam Nahas purchased the KOD company back in 1990, and took the chain national just a few years back. You may even see Sam's son, 26-year-old Andrew taking over the company some day, though the Dal Law student interned at Boyne Clarke this past summer, so he might have other, more judicial plans for the future.
Ironically, KoD can't take credit for creating Canada's interpretation of the Greek "doner kebab." Brothers Peter and John Kamoulakos' Bedford Highway restaurant was serving Greek gyros as early as 1967, but they found the traditional tzatziki sauce wasn't too popular with customers. The sauce was sweetened, the lamb changed to beef, and Halifax's contribution to global cuisine was created.
Kamoulakos would go on to found Mr. Donair, supplying donair and pizza products to restaurants up until his retirement in 2006. He used his donair dollars to purchase the building at 5246 Blowers Street, where he opened the European Food Shop back in the 80s. The building is still in his name today, and the restaurant is owned and operated under Kamoulakos' Glenora Investments group.
Card sharks, pizza hawkers
Aside from a successful business leader, it seems Mr. Kamoulakos was also a bit of a card shark. In 1992, he and nine other businessmen were arrested when the cops busted up a private backroom card game in Burnside. The flimsy charges were quickly dropped by the Crown. Funny enough, one of John's fellow players that night was long-time Halifax chef and one-time business rival Tarek Kostek.
With over 30 years' experience, Tarek ran multiple restaurants in Halifax, including the current North End staple, Tarek's Cafe. For a time in the '80s, he also ran Sicilian Pizza at 5245 Blowers Street.
For the last twenty years though, Sicilian has been owned by Joe Nahas, one of KoD owner Sam Nahas' nephews. The building itself is currently owned by Luigi and Marilisa Benigno under their Alessandra Investments group, but sadly it's no longer the same location where Sicilian was born.
The original Grafton and Blowers building where Sicilian was situated was over a hundred years old. During the 1980s, concerned citizens nominated the spot for heritage status, but then-owner Anne McInnis opposed the idea and the grant was denied. By 1999, the building was deteriorating so much that then-owner Michael Argand demolished it, and replaced it with the current patio-roofed Coconut Grove version seen today---the upstairs bar space is under renovation to be another yoga studio.
Pizza Corner: "A thorn in our side"
Not all of Pizza Corner's reputation is savoury, though. By Y2K, the corner was better known for piles of garbage covering the streets every morning. Paper plates overflowed from garbage cans, and discarded crusts became a substantial link in pigeons' and seagulls' diets. The late, great downtown revivalist Kate Carmichael, then head of the Downtown Halifax Business Commission, even took to the press to call the trashy situation a “thorn in (our) side for quite some time.”
Soon enough, the litter-bug outrage, quaint as it may seem now, became a big electoral issue. Incumbent Mayor Walter Fitzgerald was looking for a good mess to clean up during his 2000 re-election campaign, and Pizza Corner's junk pile provided an easy answer. But Walter's cheezy pizza crust crusade didn't win over a lot of voters, and some political commentators even suggested it cost him the election against rookie Peter Kelly's quality of life platform, which focused on sensible environmental concerns (how's that coming, Pete?).
Regrettably, it wouldn't be the last time Pizza Corner dominated the news in the coming years.
Drunken fights have always been part of Halifax's hard-drinking streets, and as the Mecca of late-night revellers, Pizza Corner was often stuck in the middle. On June 13, 1995, nearly 20 men rumbled at the corner, leaving windows smashed and “blood running down the hill,” according to the next morning's Daily News. Still, those incidents seemed minor, compared the mid-2000s, when violence in Halifax reached a crescendo. And Pizza Corner the crust that roughhouse pizza baked on.
There was nothing more shocking than the court-described “barbaric” swarming of David Connors in 2002. Connors, chef and owner of the now-closed Dandelion Cafe on Spring Garden, brushed past another pizza corner patron, reportedly telling her to “watch (her) back, dear.” The woman gathered her friends and without provocation surrounded David, punching and kicking him to the ground. The 51-year-old fled up to the Public Library while his attackers followed, throwing rocks as he ran. A cinderblock torn loose from the street hit David in the back of the head, and the resulting gash required five staples to close.
When David waved down a passing car to try and get to the hospital, his assailants swarmed the vehicle, and tried to drag him back into the street. Only the arrival of a passing-by military police car stopped the bloodshed. Deeneca Grouse, 22, received three years in prison for her role in the assault. Laura Parnell, 36, received one year.
Multiple other attacks, hit-and-runs, and assaults in those years left the Corner with a nasty reputation, but that kind of violence was all over Halifax in the 2000s. Swarmings happened on the waterfront, the Common, and even in broad daylight.
These incidents, along with the galvanizing murder of American sailor Damon Crooks, led to Mayor Peter Kelly's “round-table on violence.” The result was 20 new police constables, public surveillance cameras, and a more aggressive police presence in the downtown area, as well as a brief appearance from the largely ineffectual Halifax chapter of the red-beretted Guardian Angels.
Lately, like the rest of the city, tempers have calmed at Pizza Corner and the area is living down its past reputation. Nearly 400 people can jam pack the small, steep piece of road every Saturday night, and despite problems in the past, it remains a largely good-natured, open-air party. The debauched commune in an utterly Bacchic celebration; dancing and eating and laughing into the wee hours of the morning.
Okay, sure, that might be gussying things up a bit much. This is a spot for the weary and the drunk to load up on greasy foods. But it's Halifax's spot; our spot. Let's hope it stays.
Jacob Boon is a Halifax-based freelancer.
