If you tell a local you're looking for brick oven pizza in Scranton, PA, you might get a funny look. It isn't because we don't have it. We do. It’s because this city is the undisputed "Pizza Capital of the World"—or at least that's what the signs say—and we take the distinction between styles very, very seriously.
You’ve probably heard of Old Forge style. That’s the rectangular tray stuff, served in "cuts," not slices. But tucked between the legendary "cafes" of Lackawanna County, a different beast has been rising. I’m talking about that blistered, charred, wood-fired or coal-fired crust that shatters when you bite it. It’s different. It’s artisanal. And honestly? It’s arguably some of the best pizza in the Northeast if you know where to pull over.
Scranton isn't just a backdrop for The Office. It’s a coal town. Coal is in the DNA here. That historical connection actually matters when we talk about high-heat ovens. While the rest of the country was messing around with conveyor belt ovens in the 90s, Scranton stayed true to high-temperature traditions.
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The Heat Factor: Why Brick Ovens Change the Game in NEPA
Most people think "brick oven" is just a marketing term. It’s not. A standard deck oven in a typical New York slice joint runs at maybe $500$ or $550$ degrees Fahrenheit. A true brick oven—especially one fueled by wood or anthracite coal—hits $700$ to $900$ degrees.
That heat does something magical to the dough.
It triggers the Maillard reaction almost instantly. You get those "leopard spots" on the crust. The moisture in the dough evaporates so fast that the inside stays airy and soft while the outside develops a structural snap. In Scranton, where "Old Forge" style often relies on a thicker, almost fried-bottom crust, the brick oven style offers a lighter, more sophisticated alternative. It’s the difference between a heavy winter coat and a sleek Italian suit.
One of the big misconceptions is that all "round" pizza in Scranton is the same. Wrong. You have your "NEPA round," which is usually a bit heavier on the cheese (often a blend involving white cheddar or provolone), and then you have the true brick oven entries that lean more toward Neapolitan or New Haven influences.
Where to Actually Find the Good Stuff
If you're driving down Spruce Street or navigating the hills of South Side, you need a roadmap. You can't just walk into any corner shop and expect wood-fired perfection.
Maroni’s vs. The Modern Wave
Maroni’s is a legend. Let’s get that out of the way. But they aren't the "brick oven" archetype people look for when they want that charred, thin-crust experience. For that, you’re looking at places like AV Restaurant & Wine Bar. They’re doing high-end, seasonal, wood-fired pies that wouldn't look out of place in Manhattan or Naples.
Then there’s Vince the Pizza Prince. It’s an institution. Is it the traditional "Neapolitan" brick oven? Not exactly. But it represents the bridge between old-school Scranton and the high-heat cravings of modern foodies.
You also have to consider the surrounding boroughs. You can’t talk about brick oven pizza Scranton PA without mentioning the influence of nearby spots in Dunmore or even the coal-fired heaters in Wilkes-Barre. It’s a regional ecosystem.
The Coal Connection
Scranton was built on anthracite. It makes sense that coal-fired ovens are a point of pride. Coal burns hotter and cleaner than wood. When you’re at a spot using a coal-fired brick oven, the air is drier. This results in a crust that is impossibly thin but can still hold the weight of the sauce without sagging. Nobody likes a soggy tip. A coal-fired brick oven solves that.
Misconceptions About the "Perfect" Slice
People come here expecting one thing and get another. Here is the reality of the Scranton pizza scene:
- The Sauce isn't always sweet: While some local styles lean into a sugary tomato base, brick oven spots in the city tend to favor a brighter, more acidic San Marzano style.
- Cheese blends are a secret: Don't expect 100% low-moisture mozzarella. Scranton chefs love to experiment. You’ll find Cooper Sharp, brick cheese, and even sharp provolone sneaking into the mix.
- Char isn't burnt: If you see black bubbles on your crust, don't send it back. That’s the flavor. That’s the "char" that a brick oven provides. It’s bitter in a way that balances the sweetness of the tomatoes.
Honestly, the biggest mistake people make is comparing Scranton brick oven pizza to New York City. Stop doing that. New York has the water, sure, but Scranton has the grit and the high-heat history. The "chew" factor in a Scranton dough is usually more pronounced. It’s a heartier experience.
The Economics of the Oven
Running a wood-fired or coal-fired oven in 2026 isn't cheap. The labor involved is intense. You can't just "set and forget" these ovens. A pizzaiolo has to constantly manage the fire, rotating the pies, finding the "sweet spot" in the oven where the floor temperature is just right.
When you pay $25 for a specialty brick oven pie in Scranton, you aren't just paying for flour and cheese. You're paying for the three hours the chef spent pre-heating the stone. You’re paying for the specialized venting systems required to pump that smoke out of an old Pennsylvania building. It’s an artisanal craft in a city that respects blue-collar work. That intersection is why the food is so good here.
How to Order Like a Local
If you want to blend in and get the best experience, follow these rules:
- Don't ask for "slices" at a brick oven place. Most of these pies are personal-sized or meant for the table. They are cooked to order. Asking for a "slice of wood-fired" is a dead giveaway that you’re from out of town.
- Go early. These ovens have a life cycle. The first pies of the night are often different from the ones pushed out during the 8:00 PM rush when the oven floor has cooled slightly from constant use.
- Check the floor. A true brick oven will have a stone or brick floor. If you see a metal screen, keep walking.
Why the "Water" Argument is Overblown
Everyone talks about New York water. "Oh, the minerals make the dough." Look, modern filtration and chemistry have basically solved that. Scranton’s water is actually quite good for dough—it has a decent mineral content that supports yeast activity without being too hard. The reason the pizza tastes different here isn't the tap; it’s the humidity in the valley and the specific fermentation times local shops use. Most Scranton brick oven doughs are aged for at least 24 to 48 hours.
The Future of the Electric City Scene
We are seeing a shift. The old-guard "tray" pizza isn't going anywhere, but the younger generation of chefs in Lackawanna County is obsessed with the brick oven. They are bringing back heirloom grains. They are sourcing cheese from local dairies in the Endless Mountains.
This isn't just about "pizza." It's about a culinary identity. Scranton has spent decades being the "poor cousin" to Philly or New York. But in the world of high-heat baking, we are the heavyweights.
Actionable Steps for Your Pizza Pilgrimage
To truly experience the best brick oven pizza Scranton PA has to offer, you need a plan. Don't just wing it.
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- Verify the Heat Source: Before you sit down, ask if they use wood, coal, or gas-assist. For the most authentic experience, seek out 100% wood or coal.
- Start Simple: Order a Margherita or a plain cheese first. Toppings hide flaws. You want to taste the relationship between the crust, the sauce, and the heat.
- Look for the "Lift": Pick up a slice. It should be firm. If it flops over like a wet noodle, the oven wasn't hot enough, or the dough wasn't cured.
- Explore the "Suburbs": Don't be afraid to drive 10 minutes outside the city limits to Olyphant, Dunmore, or Taylor. Some of the best brick ovens are hidden in residential neighborhoods.
- Pair it Locally: Scranton has a burgeoning craft beer scene. A crisp pilsner or a hoppy IPA from a local brewery like Susquehanna Brewing Co. (technically nearby) or one of the downtown taprooms cuts through the fat of the cheese perfectly.
The pizza landscape here is shifting. While the world looks at us for "tray" pizza, the real heat is coming from the brick ovens. It’s a testament to a city that knows how to handle a fire. Next time you're in the 570, skip the chains. Find a pile of wood out back, look for the chimney smoke, and get a seat near the heat. You'll realize pretty quickly that Scranton isn't just a "pizza capital" by title—it's a capital by craftsmanship.