Johnny’s Pizza brings the best of Philly pan pies and New York rounds — plus killer steaks — to Bryn Mawr
In just two years, snagging a pie from John Bisceglie at Johnny's Pizza has become a challenge at prime time, while the cheesesteaks are inspiring pilgrimages from across the region.

John Bisceglie couldn’t sleep. He had spent his life savings renovating a six-decade-old Bryn Mawr pizzeria into his own place — Johnny’s Pizza — and worked the previous 13 hours painting the blue walls of the former Pizzi’s Pizza dining room with a fresh coat of white. A full batch of dough had been fermenting for two days and was ready to be tossed. The 27-year-old was so nervous he was making himself sick with second thoughts about his entrepreneurial debut. So at 2 a.m. he texted his mentor Frank Pinello of Best Pizza in Williamsburg, where he’d spent six months training in the fine art of Brooklyn pies.
“Dude, I should have stayed with you,” he said. “What am I doing? This is so nerve-racking.”
“Relax! It’s just pizza!” Pinello said. “Just be nice to your customers, serve good food, and let your personality take over the shop.”
That may sound easier said than done: Johnny’s only sold three pizzas on its first day in November 2022.
But Bisceglie had learned well about the virtues of quality and patience from his mentors. Not just Pinello, but also Nick Carelli of Philomena Santucci’s Square Pizza in Warminster, where Bisceglie first found his love of pizza.
Just over two years later, the buzz around Johnny’s has grown so loud that it routinely sells up to 175 pies a day, with the time slots for prime weekend evening pickups (between 5 and 6:30 p.m.) already spoken for before noon.
I caught a glimpse of what the fuss was about when I recently popped in, stopped in my tracks by a pizza emerging from the oven. The heat-blistered round’s paper-thin crust radiated such a gorgeous sunburst of red sauce that when Bisceglie scattered it with a shaving of Pecorino-Romano and fragrant green plumes of ripped basil to finish, we instantly changed our plans for lunch down the street and decided to stay here.
We took our seats in back and found ourselves amid the banter of two avid cheesesteak hunters — one who’d driven 45 minutes from Lansdale, and another who’d traveled half an hour from near West Chester. I realized that Johnny’s is a rare double threat: a notable stop on the region’s hungry tourist’s map for both pizza and steaks.
After sampling them both, I can confirm they are absolutely legit. Bisceglie’s pizza game is influenced by both of his mentors in his embrace of thin-crusted New York rounds as well as Philly-style pan pies.
Bisceglie understands how caring deeply about the process, from the quality of the toppings to the temperature and stretching of the dough, can impact the final product. The hand-crushed whole tomato sauce is balanced but flavorful, and his thin-crust rounds are roasty and dynamic, topped with a light touch of blended fresh and low-moisture mozzarella that adds layered flavors and texture. His white pies, which come with lemony ricotta and sesame seeded crusts, are a direct homage to Pinello’s Best Pizza.
The pizzaiolo’s true passion, though, is for the pan pies, which get two hours of extra aging flavor from a double-proofing — and also speak to his Santucci’s roots. The pizza’s build is technically closer to a Brooklyn grandma, with a relatively thinner crust than Sicilian or Detroit styles, and sporadic dabs of chunky sauce infused with a kitchen sink’s worth of onions and pantry spices.
The cast-iron pans are a legacy of regional pizza history: 50-year-old vintage squares from Santucci’s, gifted to Bisceglie by Carelli. When these pies emerge from those well-seasoned pans, their bottoms toasty with an olive oil crisp, they are a thing of crusty beauty. The most popular topping is cup-and-char pepperoni drizzled with hot honey. But thankfully, not too much.
“Every time I grab a bottle [of hot honey] I worry: Did I do this right?” says Bisceglie. “You can’t see it once it goes on, but I only want a drizzle. Because it’s all about balanced flavors. ”
That motto of careful proportions also applies to Johnny’s cheesesteaks, which are hefty at about 12 ounces of house-cut rib-eye per sandwich, but hardly the overstuffed behemoths that sometimes earn popular praise. The shop’s true success also lies in the details of careful execution. That includes the way Johnny’s griddles its onions and coarse-chopped meat together at the same time, properly seasoning it all with salt and pepper, then carefully incorporating just the right amount of Cooper Sharp cheese.
The sesame-seeded roll is also noticeably different, a whole-wheat potato loaf with a well-developed flavor that, toasted in the oven just beforehand for an extra crisp, has enough crust integrity to contain its juicy stuffing. The bread is sourced from an artisan Philly bakery; Bisceglie, ever-vigilant of competition, prefers to keep the name to himself. There is one secret I was able to pry away: “We strictly cook the meat in butter, just like I make a sirloin for myself at home,” he says.
It’s no wonder I couldn’t stop eating this cheesesteak, which is easily one of the region’s best. It’s also no surprise that two years later, those freshly painted white walls have been filled with signatures from Johnny’s customers lavishing praise on the food (and the Eagles, too).
“I wanted it to feel like Johnny’s has been here for a long time, so everyone leaves their mark,” says Bisceglie, who leaves a jar of colorful Sharpies alongside shakers of oregano and pepper flakes.
The most indelible mark at Johnny’s Pizza, however, is Bisceglie’s transformation of a Main Line pizza institution into something truly his own.
Johnny’s Pizza
1025 W. Lancaster Ave., Bryn Mawr, PA 19010, 610-525-4811; johnnyspizzabrynmawr.com
Open Tuesday through Sunday, 11 a.m.-9 p.m. Closed Monday.