Some pizza toppings do not disappear with a big announcement. They just slowly stop showing up.
That is what happened to a surprising number of toppings that were common on American pizzas in the 1970s. Old menus, regional pizzeria ads, and food coverage from the decade show that many items once treated as standard options are now hard to find outside a few local holdouts.
Canned clams

Clam pizza has deep roots in parts of the Northeast, but in the 1970s canned clams appeared far beyond those traditional markets. Newspaper menu listings from suburban pizza shops in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, and parts of Florida regularly included clam as a standard topping. It was often sold by the pie or by the slice with garlic, oregano, and grated cheese.
The topping fit the era. Canned seafood was common in American kitchens, and restaurant operators liked ingredients with a long shelf life. Clams also gave pizza parlors a way to market something that sounded a little upscale without adding much labor. A basic white clam pie could be assembled fast and priced above plain cheese.
By the 1980s and 1990s, clam pizza became more regional again. Many chains never adopted it, and independent shops cut back as menus standardized around pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, onions, and green peppers. Food historians have also noted that stronger concerns about freshness and seafood handling made many operators less eager to keep shellfish in the kitchen unless local demand clearly justified it.
Anchovies

Anchovies may still survive as a punch line on modern menus, but they were far more visible in the 1970s than they are now. Pizza ads from the period routinely listed anchovies alongside mainstream toppings, not as a novelty. Small tins were easy to stock, and the salty fish fit the heavily seasoned, red-sauce style popular in many American pizza parlors.
The topping also reflected older Italian American habits. In mid-century cities with strong immigrant food traditions, anchovies were not strange at all. They brought intense flavor, paired well with olives and onions, and were often ordered by adults rather than children. That mattered at a time when pizza was still transitioning from neighborhood food to national family staple.
As pizza became more chain-driven, anchovies slipped. Large operators focused on broad appeal and simplified inventories. A topping that delivered a strong smell, divided customers, and sold in low volume was an easy cut. Today it still exists, but in many parts of the United States it has effectively vanished from everyday ordering.
Sliced green olives

Black olives stayed on menus. Green olives, in many places, did not.
In the 1970s, sliced green olives were a familiar pizza topping in regional chains and independent shops, especially across the Midwest and parts of the West. Menus often separated green and black olives as distinct options, and some pizzerias used pimento-stuffed green olive slices for a briny, slightly bitter bite. They were especially common on combination pizzas packed with sausage, onions, and peppers.
The ingredient made sense in the decade’s food culture. Green olives were staples at home bars, relish trays, and family gatherings, so they felt recognizable and useful. On pizza they added salt and texture without raising costs much. Operators could buy them canned or jarred and use the same product in salads and sandwiches.
Over time, black olives became the default olive topping in mainstream pizza service. They looked milder, tasted less assertive, and blended more easily into national chain menus. Green olives never disappeared entirely, but in many communities they moved from standard option to special request, then off the board altogether.
Ground beef

Ground beef once had a much bigger place in pizza than it does now. In the 1970s it was a common topping at chain restaurants, school lunch style pizza programs, and family pizza houses trying to appeal to burger-loving customers. It often appeared simply as “hamburger,” a term many menus used interchangeably with seasoned ground beef.
The appeal was practical as much as culinary. Ground beef was familiar, relatively cheap, and easy to portion across large volumes of pizza. It also fit a period when American restaurants were eager to merge comfort foods. A pizza topped with hamburger, onion, and cheddar-adjacent cheese blends could feel both Italian American and unmistakably suburban.
Pepperoni and Italian sausage eventually held the category. They delivered more distinct pizza flavor, less moisture trouble, and stronger brand recognition. Ground beef remained in some taco pizzas and regional specialties, but the plain hamburger pizza that once looked ordinary became much harder to find on standard menus.
Chopped hard-boiled eggs

Hard-boiled eggs on pizza sound unusual now, but they turned up on a noticeable number of 1970s specialty pies. Menus in parts of the Northeast, Upper Midwest, and pockets of the West listed egg among house toppings, often paired with bacon, anchovies, spinach, or white sauce. Some shops chopped the eggs finely, while others used visible slices.
The topping reflected a broader 1970s menu style that loved hearty, salad-bar-adjacent ingredients. Egg was already common in chef salads, club sandwiches, and cold antipasto plates. Moving it to pizza was not as big a leap as it seems today, especially in family-run shops where ingredients crossed between stations.
Its decline likely came from labor and changing expectations. Hard-boiled eggs are not a simple open-and-pour topping like pepperoni or canned mushrooms. They require prep time, have a shorter useful window, and do not match what most customers now picture when they think of pizza. Without a strong regional identity, the topping mostly faded out.
Shrimp

Shrimp pizza had a real moment in the 1970s, especially in coastal cities and more experimental red-sauce restaurants. It appeared on white pizzas, garlic-heavy pies, and seafood combinations that also included clams or anchovies. In newspaper dining ads from the decade, shrimp often showed up as proof that a pizzeria offered more than basic neighborhood fare.
There were business reasons for that push. During the 1970s, many independent restaurants expanded menus to compete with full-service dining rooms, and seafood toppings helped signal range. Shrimp also matched the era’s fascination with “continental” dining, where a simple dish could be made to feel special with one premium ingredient.
Still, shrimp was never easy inventory. It cost more, required careful storage, and could quickly turn from selling point to waste. As pizza chains streamlined operations and customers leaned toward familiar meat toppings, shrimp retreated from regular menus. Today it survives mostly in regional seafood pies and a limited number of specialty restaurants.
Alfalfa sprouts

The 1970s health-food boom reached pizza, too. In some natural-food restaurants, vegetarian cafes, and West Coast pizzerias, alfalfa sprouts were marketed as a fresh topping or post-bake finish. They gave pies a crunchy texture and a counterculture identity that matched the decade’s interest in whole grains, tofu, and lighter eating.
Sprouts were not mainstream everywhere, but where they appeared, they fit a specific mood. A pizza topped with sprouts, sunflower seeds, mozzarella, and vegetables looked modern to health-conscious diners of the time. It also separated certain restaurants from standard red-checkered-tablecloth pizza parlors.
Their decline came for obvious reasons. Sprouts are delicate, do not bake well for long, and became associated over time with food safety concerns after repeated contamination outbreaks in the broader produce market. Even before that, they belonged to a niche style of pizza that lost ground as vegetarian pies settled into safer standards like spinach, tomatoes, and roasted vegetables.
Liver sausage

This may be the least likely topping on the list, but old pizzeria menus and local advertisements show that liver sausage or liverwurst did appear on some 1970s pizzas, especially in areas with strong German, Scandinavian, or Upper Midwestern food traditions. It was usually featured as part of a specialty pie rather than a universal topping.
The ingredient was part of a bigger pattern in the decade. Many local pizza shops borrowed freely from regional deli culture, using whatever cured meats customers already knew from sandwiches and snack trays. In that environment, liver sausage did not seem as strange as it does now. Rich, salty, and spreadable or sliced, it offered a dense, savory profile.
The problem was scale. As pizza culture grew more national, toppings that required explanation had a harder time surviving. Liver sausage also carried a strong flavor and a reputation that younger diners often rejected. Once chains and copycat independents narrowed the field to more familiar meats, this regional oddity mostly disappeared.
Sauerkraut

Sauerkraut pizza was another crossover from local ethnic foodways into neighborhood pizzerias. In the 1970s it appeared in parts of the Midwest, Rust Belt cities, and tavern-style pizza regions where cooks were comfortable mixing Italian American pizza formats with German or Eastern European ingredients. It was often paired with sausage, onions, or mustard-forward house sauces.
For restaurant owners, sauerkraut had clear advantages. It was inexpensive, shelf-stable when packed, and strongly flavored in a way that could define a specialty pizza. In communities where kraut was already common on hot dogs, sausages, and holiday tables, putting it on pizza was not seen as outlandish.
Outside those areas, though, it never built momentum. National chains did not embrace sour cabbage as a broad-appeal topping, and younger customers often gravitated toward milder vegetable options. Sauerkraut pizza still exists in isolated pockets, but the wider 1970s version of it as a visible menu regular is largely gone.
Corn chips and taco-style crunch toppings

Well before taco pizza became a known regional favorite, some 1970s pizzerias experimented with crunchy toppings such as crushed corn chips. Menus and local food ads from the period describe taco-inspired pies with seasoned beef, lettuce, tomatoes, and crisp corn chip finishes added after baking. The idea matched the decade’s enthusiasm for Tex-Mex fusion.
This style worked because pizza was becoming a platform for almost anything. Shops could use existing ingredients, add a novelty element, and market the result as a house special. In family dining restaurants, these crossover pizzas helped broaden appeal by offering something familiar to customers who might not want a classic pepperoni pie.
But crunchy chip toppings were hard to standardize. They softened quickly, made delivery difficult, and felt messy compared with more durable specialty pizzas. Some regional taco pizzas survived, especially in the Midwest, yet the broader 1970s habit of scattering corn chips over pizza largely disappeared as menus became more uniform and operationally simple.




