If you’ve been quietly mourning the loss of Izzy’s Pizza in Oregon — the buffet trays, the birthday parties, the sound of arcade games humming in the background — you’re not alone. For years, families across the state wondered where to go for that same kind of fast, filling, no-one-leaves-hungry experience. And while nothing replaces childhood memories exactly as they were, there’s one name that’s been carrying that torch since long before many of us were born: Abby's Legendary Pizza.

If you really want to understand why Abby's Legendary Pizza still feels so deeply Oregon, you have to go back to four kids from a tiny Douglas County town called Riddle.

Long before the word “legendary” ever appeared on a sign, Albert “Abby” Broughton was just a hardworking grocery store kid, and Bob “Skinny” Harrell was one of his closest childhood friends. They grew up together. Their wives, Connie and Loretta, grew up with them. Abby and Connie were high school sweethearts. They married at 18. This wasn’t some polished restaurant group assembled by investors. It was four young people from a small timber town who believed they could build something of their own.

In the early 1960s, Abby and Skinny were working at a Shakey’s Pizza Parlor, learning the business from the inside. They worked full time. They took on more responsibility. They expected the kind of raises and recognition that matched the work they were putting in. When those promises didn’t materialize, they made a decision that would change Oregon pizza history.

They left.

In 1964, they opened the first Abby’s on Stephens Street in Roseburg. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t flush with cash. Abby has said they poured every nickel they had into that first location — and then some. They worked around the clock. Literally. Long days bled into longer nights. It was hands-on in every sense of the word. The first staff? Abby. Skinny. Connie. Loretta. That was it.

When it came time to name the restaurant, the decision was simple. “Abby’s” had a friendly ring to it. Connie once joked that “Skinny’s Pizza” probably wouldn’t have had the same staying power. They laughed — and the name stuck.

What they built resonated almost immediately in Roseburg. The pizza was different. The crust was thin and crackery. The toppings were generous. The atmosphere felt welcoming instead of corporate. Before long, demand pushed them toward expansion. A second location opened in Grants Pass. Skinny moved to Medford to help grow the business in Southern Oregon.

They didn’t start with a grand plan to build a chain. In fact, they’ve said they never envisioned it becoming what it did. But towns began calling. Communities wanted Abby’s in their neighborhoods. What started as one pizza shop in Roseburg grew into two. Then several. Then dozens.

At one point, Abby joked they “woke up one day with 24 stores.”

One of the smartest moves they made wasn’t flashy — it was practical. With each new location, they bought the land beneath the restaurant. If a store didn’t succeed, they would at least own valuable property. That steady, grounded approach built not just a restaurant brand, but long-term stability.

In the late 1980s, that stability attracted businessman Mills Sinclair, who saw more than a pizza chain — he saw a values-driven company. In 1988, he purchased the operation, continuing its growth while preserving the culture Abby and Skinny had built. The founders didn’t just walk away; they were given lifetime pizza cards — a small but fitting symbol of what they had created.

Sinclair often said Abby’s wasn’t just about food. It was about taking care of people who worked hard. That philosophy carried forward in the employees who stayed decades, not years. Randy Riche started as a 17-year-old dishwasher. Abby reportedly looked at his long hair and said he wouldn’t last a week. Forty years later, he was managing a location. Keith Kathol began washing dishes too and went on to manage an entire district stretching across Southern Oregon.

That kind of longevity doesn’t happen by accident.

In the early days, Abby’s was known for packed dining rooms from late afternoon well past midnight. Customers would wait for tables. Pitchers of beer cost less than a dollar. A giant combination pizza ran five bucks. Those were different times, but the energy was the same — loud, full, joyful.

Even outside the restaurants, the founders’ personality shaped the brand. The annual Abby’s Invitational Golf Tournament at Roseburg Country Club became a local legend of its own. One year, they offered an airplane as the prize for a hole-in-one and actually landed it on the fairway. That blend of ambition, humor, and community pride mirrors the restaurant itself: bold, hardworking, and distinctly Oregon.

Today, Abby Broughton is still known for his work ethic. Well into his 80s, he was moving irrigation pipes on his land outside Roseburg under the August sun. Hard work wasn’t a marketing line. It was who he was.

And maybe that’s the real story behind Abby’s success.

It wasn’t built by executives in boardrooms. It was built by four small-town kids who worked nonstop, believed in buying their land, paid attention to their people, and made sure the pizza was always generous.

That foundation — rooted in Riddle, strengthened in Roseburg, expanded across Oregon — is why Abby’s doesn’t feel like a chain in the traditional sense. It feels local. It feels personal. It feels like it belongs here.

Put all of that together — the humble start, the smart decisions, the decades of loyal employees, the community traditions, the thin crust that never changed — and the word “legendary” doesn’t feel like branding.

It feels earned.

There’s something comforting about walking into an Abby’s. It doesn’t try to be trendy. It doesn’t reinvent itself every five years. Instead, it feels steady — like it knows exactly what it is and sees no reason to change. Families filter in after soccer games. High school teams crowd tables, still buzzing from a Friday night win. Grandparents bring grandkids to the same booths they once sat in decades ago. In Eugene, the River Road location continues that rhythm, serving the same style of pizza that built its reputation sixty years ago.

What makes Abby’s different begins with the crust. Oregonians know this style well — thin, cracker-like, baked until it delivers that perfect snap when folded. It’s not thick and doughy. It doesn’t overwhelm you with bread. Instead, it provides just enough structure to support the mountain of toppings layered on top. The crust crunches lightly under your teeth, letting the flavors of real mozzarella, seasoned meats, and fresh vegetables take center stage. For first-time visitors accustomed to national chain pizza, the texture can be surprising. For longtime fans, that crunch is part of the ritual.

Then there’s the cheese. Abby’s has long emphasized its use of 100% real mozzarella, often bearing the REAL Seal, and you can taste the difference. It melts into golden layers across every inch of crust, stretching in thick ribbons when you pull away a slice. There’s no waxy aftertaste, no skimpy coverage. It’s rich and creamy, the kind of cheese that makes two slices feel like a serious meal. In a buffet setting especially, that commitment matters. When you’re going back for seconds, you want to know the ingredients are honest.

And yes — the buffet. For anyone nostalgic for Izzy’s days, this is where Abby’s feels most familiar. The buffet line isn’t a sad row of dried-out leftovers sitting under tired heat lamps. It’s constantly refreshed, with new pies sliding out of the oven and onto the line. The selection rotates between classics and specialties, and the slices are generous — heavier than you expect when you lift your plate. Most newcomers think they’ll manage three or four pieces easily. Most quickly discover that two fully loaded slices are enough to leave them leaning back in their booth, satisfied.

The Abby’s Special remains the undisputed star. It’s the kind of pizza regulars order without glancing at a menu: pepperoni, salami, beef, sausage, mushrooms, and olives layered thickly across that crisp crust. Every bite delivers a different combination of flavors — a little spice from the pepperoni, a savory depth from the sausage, briny olives cutting through the richness. It’s hearty without apology. And after six decades, it hasn’t needed a single trendy update.

What surprises some visitors is how much more Abby’s offers beyond pizza. The broasted-style fried chicken has built a following of its own, with a crisp, seasoned coating that gives way to juicy, tender meat inside. Families often order buckets alongside their pies, turning dinner into a full spread that satisfies every appetite at the table. Loaded Spuds — massive baked potatoes topped with cheese and pizza-style ingredients — add another layer of comfort food appeal. Sandwiches and salads round out the menu, making Abby’s a place where even the one person who “doesn’t want pizza tonight” can still find something satisfying.

Over the years, Abby’s has stayed remarkably consistent, even as the restaurant industry shifted around it. The brand expanded thoughtfully, keeping its regional roots intact rather than chasing rapid national growth. It remained family-oriented, community-driven, and unapologetically hearty. In a time when many buffet-style restaurants have disappeared altogether, Abby’s continues to prove that there’s still a place for abundance and familiarity in Oregon dining culture.

Part of its endurance lies in its atmosphere. The River Road location in Eugene feels casual and lived-in in the best possible way. Booths and tables accommodate large families just as easily as couples grabbing a quick lunch. The hum of conversation fills the room — kids laughing, plates clinking, someone calling out across the dining area to save them a slice of the specialty pizza that just hit the buffet. It’s loud, but comfortably so. It feels like a place built for gathering.

Abby’s hours make it easy to stop in, whether for a midday buffet or a relaxed dinner. The Eugene River Road location at 1970 River Road operates Sunday through Thursday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., and Fridays and Saturdays until 10 p.m., giving families plenty of flexibility after work, school, or weekend games. Prices remain moderate, especially considering how filling the portions are. In a time when eating out often feels like a gamble, Abby’s still delivers value in a way that feels refreshingly straightforward.

And Eugene isn’t the only place keeping that tradition alive. Founded in Roseburg in 1964, Abby's Legendary Pizza has grown into a true Pacific Northwest original, with dozens of locations across Oregon and into parts of Washington. From Medford to Bend, Corvallis to coastal communities, Abby’s has quietly embedded itself into towns large and small, each restaurant carrying the same thin-crust style and family-first atmosphere. Most locations open daily around 11 a.m., with weekday closing times typically between 8 and 9 p.m., and extended hours to 9 or 10 p.m. on weekends, though exact times vary by city. For current hours, buffet availability, and online ordering, guests can visit www.abbys.com, where a full list of locations and menus is available.

There’s a reason Abby’s Legendary Pizza has lasted since 1964 while so many others have come and gone. It didn’t chase trends. It didn’t water down its recipes. It built loyalty by serving generous portions, using real ingredients, and creating a space where Oregon families could gather around a table and share a meal without fuss.

For those who still miss Izzy’s — the buffet trays, the nostalgia, the feeling of walking out completely full — Abby’s might just feel like coming home. It’s not trying to be the next big thing. It’s simply continuing to be what it has always been: a Pacific Northwest original that understands what Oregonians want from a pizza night.

And sometimes, that’s more than enough.

Source: UV Magazine