Pizza lovers, rejoice.

Brendan McGill will soon be serving up his Napoletana pies seven days a week. Hitchcock will live on, in all its locavore glory, as its chef-owner takes his Monday night pop-up, Bruciato, down the street.

For the uninitiated: McGill set up shop on the island in 2010, after a successful run as executive chef at

Via Tribunali. Renowned for imbuing Pacific Northwest dishes with European finesse, it wasn’t long before the accolades came pouring in, most notably: Chef of the Year (Eater Seattle, 2013), People’s Best New Chef (Food & Wine Magazine, April 2013) and Best Chef: Northwest – Semifinalist (James Beard Foundation, March 2014).

A year after opening Hitchcock, he started churning out charcuterie and classic-spun sandwiches next door at Hitchcock Deli, and three years after that, he snatched up a spot in Georgetown for his cured and smoked meats.

Campania on the brain

Like many of its Seattle counterparts, Hitchcock initially stayed closed on Mondays, giving staff a day to recuperate from the weekend stampede. McGill capitalized on the quiet, however, when he introduced a series of recurring pop-up dinners to fill the empty space.

Americana Mondays was the first; sous chef Keegan O’Brien spoke to the stomach with down-home favorites like pork chops and chicken-fried steak.

But McGill always had Campania on the brain, with its blistered, blackened, saucy pies, piping hot and left uncut, the perfect foil for his charcuterie.

And so when O’Brien bid adieu to Hitchcock in January 2013, McGill enlisted the help of master pizzaiolo Brandon Thompson, a Via Tribunali vet who was already moonlighting in the Hitchcock deli.

Anyone who knows Neopolitan pizza knows that there’s no room for chefs to dabble. The standards for authenticity are completely objective as prescribed by the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana in Southern Italy. Tipo “00” flour, San Marzano tomatoes and Buffalo mozzarella are absolutely essential. Just as imperative is the bell-shaped, wood-fired oven that operates upward of 900 degrees.

Something’s gotta give

With their delicate approach to pizza and piati, the pair enjoyed packed-house patronage week after week. They’d list the number of dough balls on Bruciato’s Facebook page, and entreat diners without reservations to scurry over before the supply ran out.

But eventually the demand was too much, especially for Thompson, who had other commitments.

“It’s hard to run a pizzeria one day a week,” McGill said. “For him to come out and make the dough by hand, in the middle of the week preceding the Monday night service, and not be able to be here to camp out and check on it, see how it was proofing, how the fermentation was going, what the temperature was like… We had some logistical issues.”

So they put Bruciato on hold for a year and decided to resurrect it this summer, with the intention of expanding it into its own brick-and-mortar at a later date.

“We always wanted Mondays here; we wanted it to be this family-friendly night,” McGill said,

of reviving the tradition at Hitchcock. “We were trying to give people what they wanted, make awesome pizza. Now that it’s back, I see the demand. We’re almost too busy.”

Bruciato will become a stand-alone restaurant as soon as McGill finds the right space. He’s confident, alluding to upcoming opportunities, but makes it clear he’s committed to staying on Winslow Way.

A casual space

It’s also clear that Bruciato will be a casual complement to Hitchcock’s fine-dining, torrent-of-foodie-tourists feel. McGill envisages a neighborhood joint, where islanders can grab takeout, linger over a leisurely lunch, or come together to watch the big game.

“I think, with this one, I’m going to break my long-term ‘No TV in the restaurant’ rule,” he said. “I really want this to be a gathering place, where your kids can be loud and you can have a couple of cocktails, and be loud, too.”

Community funding

McGill estimates he will need $150,000 to get the restaurant up and running. But he’s not looking to banks to provide a loan. He wants Bruciato to be funded by customers, a model he filched from Thierry Rautureau, who launched his Madison Valley bistro, Luc, with the support of 200 people in the community.

“They shared this feeling that they were a part of opening the restaurant,” McGill explained.

All it takes is $1,000, and participation comes with perks.

Community backers will receive a $1,300 dining credit to be used as they wish during the restaurant’s lifetime. They’ll also enjoy priority reservations, first dibs on special events, and an invite to an annual staff party.

“And if you like a certain table, you can ask for that,” McGill added. “You’re a friend of the family.”

A second investment option allows backers to raise money for a nonprofit — at no cost to them. It works like a traditionally structured loan, except the interest, paid back first, is routed to the investor’s preferred charity.

McGill terms this “community-focused capital,” and it’s a platform he co-created last year with an investor who gave $50,000 to help finance the Georgetown deli. This person wanted to support public education for organic farming, and asked McGill to take care of the logistics. He reached out to the Bainbridge Schools Foundation to implement a program called Edible Education with the interest, which will amount to about $15,000.

“Our payments, the charitable portion, will come to fruition in December,” he said. “And our investors, they’re going to end up with every penny back.”

In a couple of years, that is. The only downside to the platform is that it requires patience. While the philanthropic payback comes quickly, investors will have to wait to recoup their advances, depending on the terms of an agreement McGill will draw up on a very personal, case-by-case basis.

It’s an innovative and effortless way to make an impact in the community: partnering with a small business while funding a local charity.

“It’s not a beg; it’s not a GoFundMe,” McGill said. “It’s, like, win, win, win all around. There’s all this talk of big banks and income inequality, and in some ways, I am doing my part just by not feeding the monster.”

To make a pledge, or learn more about the platform, e-mail McGill at info@pizzeriabruciato.com.