One email in the massive 2026 Epstein file dump reads like a casual chat gone wrong.

Someone sends Jeffrey Epstein a photo of a woman.

His reply: “She looks pregnant.”

The response fires back: “You mean that soft glow, that look of bliss and excitement. Yeah, that’s the pizza…”

Sent from an iPhone. Dated April 26, 2016. Subject line: “Re: The Pizza Monster.”

On the surface? A lame joke about someone bloated from overeating pizza, radiating post-meal happiness.

But dig deeper into the newly released DOJ documents — millions of pages from Epstein’s world — and “pizza” appears over 800–900 times (some counts hit 911 before redactions).

Most mentions are mundane: ordering delivery for staff, gluten-free options, restaurant picks, “pizza headcounts” for events.

Then come the odd ones:

“Pizza and grape soda… no one else can understand.”
“There are millions of [redacted], very little good vegetable cream cheese.”
Casual invites like “let’s go get pizza and grape soda” after unrelated topics.

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The February 2026 release of additional Jeffrey Epstein-related documents by the U.S. Department of Justice has once again thrust the financier’s communications into the spotlight, this time over the repeated use of the word “pizza” and related phrases that some online commentators interpret as potential coded language.

The documents, part of a multi-year effort to make public materials from civil lawsuits, criminal investigations, and Epstein’s estate proceedings, contain thousands of emails, texts, and attachments. Searches within the files show “pizza” appearing between 859 and 911 times (with some reports noting around 60 instances later redacted or clarified as duplicates). While many references clearly pertain to literal food — coordinating deliveries to Epstein’s properties, discussing menu preferences like gluten-free crusts, or thanking staff for “pizza headcounts” during events — a subset of exchanges feature phrasing that has fueled speculation.

One prominent example, dated April 26, 2016, involves an email chain subject-lined “Re: The Pizza Monster.” An attachment (presumably a photo) prompts Epstein to write: “she looks pregnant.” The recipient replies: “You mean radiating a soft glow with the look of bliss and excitement. Yeah, that’s the pizza…” The message ends with “Sent from my iPhone.” Context from surrounding threads suggests the photo depicted a woman who appeared bloated or full, with the exchange reframing her appearance as the afterglow of enjoying pizza excessively. No evidence in the file indicates anything beyond a joke about overeating.

Other mentions include:

Phrases like “Pizza and grape soda… no one else can understand,” appearing in casual invitations or inside jokes among associates.
A 2009 exchange referencing “There are millions of babies, very little good vegetable cream cheese,” later attributed by some reviewers to an autocorrect error or typo in a discussion about bagels and cream cheese varieties (e.g., “babies” for “bagels”).
References to “shrimp,” “grape soda,” and similar items in group texts, often tied to meals or events.

These have revived comparisons to the 2016 “Pizzagate” conspiracy theory, which falsely alleged that hacked emails from Hillary Clinton campaign chairman John Podesta contained code words like “pizza” for child trafficking, centered on a Washington, D.C., pizzeria. That theory was thoroughly debunked, leading to real-world consequences including a 2016 armed incident at Comet Ping Pong. Officials and fact-checkers have repeatedly stated there is no evidentiary link between Epstein’s documents and Pizzagate-style claims.

Investigators and media analyses note that Epstein’s lifestyle involved frequent entertaining, travel, and catering for large groups — including pilots, staff, guests, and events at his New York mansion, Palm Beach home, and Little St. James island. Pizza, as a convenient group meal, appears logically in logistics emails. Associates like pilots, household staff, and social contacts often discussed food in mundane terms.

Online speculation persists, partly because pedophile networks have historically used innocuous terms (including “cheese pizza” as shorthand for “CP,” or child pornography, per some law enforcement alerts from the 2010s). However, no court filings, victim statements, or prosecutorial documents from Epstein’s cases have alleged that food references in his communications were euphemisms for criminal activity. The Southern District of New York, which prosecuted Epstein in 2019, focused on direct evidence: victim testimonies, flight logs, financial records, and seized materials — not interpreting casual emails as codes.

The documents also highlight Epstein’s network: names like Erin Ko (mentioned in pizza-related chats), Roy and Stephanie Hodges (thanking Epstein for providing pizza to “the crew” in a 2013 email), and others appear in benign contexts. Identities remain partially obscured or unconfirmed in public releases, but no charges stem from these exchanges.

Critics of conspiracy interpretations point to confirmation bias: in a massive document dump involving a convicted sex offender with ties to powerful figures, selective focus on ambiguous phrases can create patterns where none exist. Supporters argue the sheer volume and odd juxtapositions warrant scrutiny, especially given Epstein’s documented exploitation of minors.

As of mid-February 2026, the DOJ has made no statements specifically addressing the “pizza” mentions beyond general transparency releases. The files continue to spark debate across media, social platforms, and true-crime communities, underscoring how Epstein’s case — even years after his 2019 death — generates enduring questions about transparency, elite accountability, and the line between coincidence and conspiracy.