Happy Slice

Happy Slice wasn’t planned. It just got out of hand.

It started at Happy Face parties: loud music, good people and enormous trays of focaccia-style pizza disappearing faster than they could bake them. Fluffy in the middle, crispy underneath, overloaded with good stuff and cut into massive squares. It wasn’t on the menu. Then everybody wanted one.

So the party food left home and became Happy Slice.

The idea is simple: freshly baked, handcrafted Italian pizza without the ceremony. No bookings. No tiny portions. No lectures. Just serious dough, big flavour and a generous 10 × 20 cm slice of pure joy - from £7.

If Happy Face is the stylish Italian parent who grew up on records in the 1980s, Happy Slice is its rebellious teenage offspring, coming of age in London around 2004. Grime on pirate radio. Garage CDs. Nokia phones. Air Max on wet pavement. Modified cars outside the internet café. Camden after dark.

The records became MP3s. The hi-fi became an iPod. The arcade became a PS2. The phone got smaller. The jeans got bigger. The music got louder.

And the pizza went square.

SQUARE PIZZA. DONE RIGHT.

Born at parties. Raised on loud music. Kicked out of home.