‘If you can do it once, you can do it again’: June’s Pizza makes triumphant return after 3-year hiatus

“Have you ever seen a pizzeria that looks like this?” 

Chef de cuisine Brandon Guthro is gesturing broadly across the now-empty dining room of June’s Pizza, the pizzeria that became an instant hit when it first debuted as an unpermitted pop-up during the pandemic.

I can’t say I have — at least, not one that marries a former West Oakland warehouse with a classic diner aesthetic so seamlessly. 

It’s after hours, and a few remaining staff members sit around a table, regrouping after the day’s work. This is their nightly ritual, a chance to come together after the flurry of dinner service and just hang out, as well as assess what went well that day, what to take note of for tomorrow. Graciously, I’ve been invited to sit in on this gathering. I’m acting as a fly on the wall, trying to capture every last detail about this almost evanescent Oakland staple that’s rewriting its history. 

The large, lofty space is certainly built on industrial bones, but with red pleather bar stools and clean white tiles washing over the back wall, June’s almost feels like the kind of place where I could order a root beer float and hear a jukebox play. 

However, I’d come for the pizza, and seemingly so did everybody else in the neighborhood that night. Just an hour prior, nearly every table in the restaurant had been occupied. I’d parked myself at the bar, watching founder Craig Murli and the pizzaiolos stretch and spin the pizza dough with gentle, pinpoint focus. Despite the fact that the place was full, the staff didn’t seem stressed. I heard a playful “Yes, chef!” from one of them as the team cranked out pie after pie from the fragrant wood-fired oven. The place was running like a well-oiled machine.

Boi Soth, a June’s Pizza employee, assembles a pizza. Each day June’s offers a margherita and a special (pictured), in this case topped with pancetta, green onion, and a salad of frisée, chrysanthemum and frilly mustard greens with Meyer lemon vinaigrette. Credit: Estefany Gonzalez

But arriving at this point was anything but a smooth ride for Murli. It had been a labor of fierce love, persistence and grit. After the health department shut down the original June’s in 2021, Murli had spent the last three years clawing his way out of the emotional and financial rubble to rebuild his restaurant from scratch. 

“I found myself so broke, very sad, very depressed. And just trying to find a footing, trying to find some handle, looking for hope,” he told me on a phone call earlier that week. “I just made it my mission to build a proper restaurant over these past three years and I worked every day at it. Despite some deep personal sacrifice, I got there and now it’s running and it’s going pretty darn well.”

June’s Pizza officially reopened as a brick-and-mortar on Sept. 20, selling out within 90 minutes to a line of fans hungry for the famous sourdough slices. 

“For every little step already taken, you get beaten back 10 steps. But you know, eventually with persistence, it started to work out,” Murli said. “If you can do it once, you can do it again.”

A classic pizza for the people

Before the initial shutdown, patrons quickly learned to love June’s for its no-frills approach to pizza. This was what I’d come to find out for myself: what exactly about these pies had propelled June’s to local stardom? 

For the most part, it’s “taking good ingredients and not screwing them up,” as Murli explained. With roots in fine dining, including a stint at the Michelin-starred Atelier Crenn, he knows a thing or two about what to do with good ingredients. 

Campbell Beaver (left) and Teddy Roundy dine at June’s Pizza in Oakland on Thursday, Oct. 31, 2024. Credit: Estefany Gonzalez

“I love food, don’t get me wrong, but there’s nothing fancy about me. Then I had this idea of, all right, how can I take this discipline that I’ve been cultivating through my whole career and apply it to something that’s more for the people?” he said. 

He also believes simplicity is key to the quality June’s has become synonymous with. 

“The idea is if you keep painting and adding things, eventually a painting will just turn gray. And we put so much emphasis on our dough, from the flour we use to where we stretch it out, the way we cook it inside a wood-fired oven. From there, all it takes is some beautiful ingredients and put them on that dough and just not disappoint,” he said.

Accordingly, the menu is uncomplicated: just two pies on offer, always one classic margherita and one rotating special, the ingredients of which are dictated by the season. When I visited, the special was a pie loaded with sausage, broccoli rabe, and tatsoi — ingredients all sourced from local producers.

I ordered the margherita. The sourdough crust was rich and bouncy, dusted with fine grana padano and pecorino cheese shavings. The undercarriage, sturdy enough to support the sweet-and-savory melding of tomato, basil and mozzarella, gave just enough leeway to be folded in half for an easier bite. 

June’s Pizza sous chef Will Parsons (far left) makes a pizza at June’s Pizza in Oakland. Credit: Estefany Gonzalez

The couple sitting next to me, Jesse and Sabrah Basra, struck up a conversation as I was housing the 18-inch pie. (No, I couldn’t finish it, but I did get a solid four slices in.) They told me it was their second night in a row here this week.

“The pizza is phenomenal,” said Mr. Basra. “My go-to is trying the margherita and seeing if it’s good, but honestly, I’ve never had better pizza. And my thing is with pizza: the pepper shakers here work. If the pepper shaker works properly, it’s really good pizza.”   

Releasing the “death grip” to build a stronger business

Murli knew that if June’s 2.0 was to survive and thrive, he couldn’t rely on the pizza quality alone. 

“June’s will be a stronger business if I can juice up the people I work with and make them feel ownership of what they’re doing,” he said. That also meant releasing the “death grip” he’d previously had on the business, trusting his staff to execute on a shared vision for the restaurant.

(Left to right) June’s Pizza founder Craig Murli, chef du cuisine Brandon Guthro, and Sous Chef Will Parsons. Murli released his “death grip” on the business and has trusted his new staff to execute on his vision. Credit: Estefany Gonzalez

“That was so hard for me to do three years ago,” he said. “When you face what I consider was some pretty epic failure, you have to say, ‘All right, Craig, the way you insisted on doing things up until now clearly isn’t working for you.’ And so now I’m open, I’m so open to new ideas and change. I’m hiring people that I trust and I’m letting them run.”

Murli assembled a crew who’d had their hands in dough before. Will Parsons, his sous chef, ran the pizza program at the now-shuttered Sister for three years, while Guthro, the chef de cuisine, has worked in fine dining establishments including Quince, Rich Table and Sorrel. But he’s also hired folks who are brand new to the restaurant industry, emphasizing on building a team that meshes well and works to help him meet ballooning demand. 

“We’re rapidly expanding our team and our production so that we can just be there for people,” he said. “We’re trying to become sellout-proof. I’m not calling it growing pains, because it’s not a pain. It’s exhilarating.”

(Left to right) June’s Pizza founder Craig Murli and staff members Xochitl Segura, Nash Rood and Pedro Aguilar, assemble pizzas at June’s Pizza. Credit: Estefany Gonzalez

As I sit with Murli and his staff after service, I understand their recipe for great pizza is more than just the chemistry of a perfectly calibrated cheese-to-sauce ratio. It’s about the chemistry of the entire team, the ability to dial in the smallest details to craft a product that folks line up out the door for. Guthro, Murli and Parsons chat with a clear passion about the dough-making process (it takes 48 hours to prepare), the mysterious maker of June’s house wine (I couldn’t wrangle the name out of them), the transparent storage containers that give customers a full view into every ingredient that’s going onto their pizza. 

Skill and ingredients aside, this nightly regroup just might be one of the most important components that go into a June’s pizza: a commitment to the craft and to the bond between the team, even after hours of sweltering in front of a wood-fired oven.

“Do you mind if we switch to Meyer lemons?” Guthro asks, reviewing an inventory spreadsheet on his laptop. Murli shrugs, giving him a relaxed approval — another subtle release of the death grip.

The taste of the pizza isn’t what lingers as I drive home. It’s the warmth you feel after eating dinner somewhere you’ve felt unequivocally welcomed, the little mental note you make as a silent reminder: bring the people you love here. They’re probably going to love it, too. 

A person enters June’s Pizza in Oakland on Thursday, Oct. 31, 2024. Credit: Estefany Gonzalez