
How do you know a pizza is good (besides the presence of cornmeal)? The amount of time you have to wait for one on a Friday night. 90 minutes for this glorious hunk of dough and cheese.
(from Penny’s Pizza in Limerick, PA)

How do you know a pizza is good (besides the presence of cornmeal)? The amount of time you have to wait for one on a Friday night. 90 minutes for this glorious hunk of dough and cheese.
(from Penny’s Pizza in Limerick, PA)

The best pizza in the Philadelphia area is from a little hole-in-the-wall called Penny’s in Limerick, PA. The secret is cornmeal.
From Maxi’s on Temple University’s campus in Philadelphia, PA. Chrissy and I shared lots of lunches here during our “new lovers” period while in our senior year as Owls. I’ll always love this place.
There would be anchovies all over this, too, but my better half refuses to see them anywhere near her pizza.
Now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think I could ever live without a Corropolese Bakery, one of my favorite dispensaries of Philadelphia comfort food.
One of my tweet’s recently appeared in Philadelphia Magazine. It reminds me of when I used to write into Nintendo Power as a kid – but never had my words published. Bastards.
The short blurb was in response to the magazine’s July issue where it selected the 50 best pizza spots in the Philly area. I absolutely loved the issue and think it did a lot of things right. Most importantly (for me, anyway) is that Penny’s, my local favorite, made the cut. It is the best slice of pizza I have ever had in my life, and few places can even come close to its cornmeal magic and sweet sauce. For me, there’s not much else like it. Well done, Philly Mag.
I was disappointed, however, that Tonelli’s, my favorite slice from the other side of Montgomery County (and I know other people feel the same) didn’t make an appearance. Sure, it may not be exceptionally different, but it’s just damn fine pizza. Even its different varieties are fantastic. If anyone from out of town wants to know how we do pizza in Philly, I’d probably take them here.
But it’s okay. Thanks to my tweet’s appearance, I’ll be sure to take the evidence into Tonelli’s, find the owner, and ask him to give me a free pie in exchange for this random display of public praise. Or at least shake my hand.

It’s now officially a Thanksgiving Eve tradition – the 28-inch monster pizza from Big Daddy’s in Philly.
Unfortunately, they screwed us on the pepperoni this year, as you can tell from last year’s post.

Well, yeah, it’s from Domino’s, and it doesn’t taste like an actual Philly Cheesesteak. But it’s damn good, so I’ll check the obvious stuff at the door.