You’d Never Guess Ohio’s Cheesiest Pizza Comes From This Family-Run Place
I’ve chased pizza across Ohio for a long time, and I’ll be honest: nothing prepared me for the cheese avalanche waiting inside Luigi’s Restaurant.
This downtown Akron spot doesn’t look like much from the outside, but step through that door and you’ll understand why locals guard it like a state secret.
The mozzarella here isn’t just generous – it’s borderline ridiculous, stretching from plate to mouth in gooey golden ribbons that make you forget every chain pizza you’ve ever settled for.
It is the cheesiest pizza you won’t be able to resist, for sure.
The Modest Door Hiding Ohio’s Cheesiest Pie
Slip under the green awning on North Main and you’ll find pies with a gooey, golden cap of mozzarella that stretches into ribbons at first slice.
Old-school Akron comfort radiates from a room that hasn’t tried to chase trends, only perfect cheese-forward pizza.
The first time I walked past, I almost missed it entirely. The building looks like any other brick storefront, no flashy signs or Instagram-worthy murals.
But locals know better. Inside waits the kind of cheese pull that makes you want to film it in slow motion, even though you’re too busy eating to bother with your phone.
A Family Story That Started in 1949
Luigi’s began in 1949 when Nick and Rose Ciriello turned a small downtown space into a neighborhood Italian spot. Decades later, the Ciriello family is still the name locals associate with the house that mozzarella built.
Walking in feels like stepping into someone’s dining room, assuming their dining room serves the best pizza in Summit County.
Photographs line the walls, telling stories of generations who’ve kneaded dough and shredded cheese in this exact spot.
That kind of continuity is rare these days. You can taste it in every bite, that commitment to doing things the same way because the old way works.
Mountains of Mozzarella (And the Salad Everyone Talks About)
The legend isn’t just the pizza. Akron claims a cheese salad piled with a literal mound of shredded mozzarella, a quirky local icon that says everything about Luigi’s devotion to dairy.
Order both and watch the cheese waterfall. I made the mistake of ordering this salad on my first visit without asking questions, assuming it would be a normal side dish with a sprinkle of cheese.
Wrong. So wonderfully wrong. What arrived looked like someone had buried a salad under a snowdrift of mozzarella, and I’ve been ordering it ever since, telling everyone I know to do the same.
What to Order When You Finally Sit Down
Start simple: a classic pie with pepperoni if you’re a purist, plus that cheese-topped salad and a baked Italian favorite. The menu reads like a time capsule and delivers like a warm hug.
My go-to order hasn’t changed in three years. Pepperoni pizza, cheese salad, and whatever pasta special they’re running that night.
Nothing fancy, nothing fusion, just straightforward Italian-American cooking done so well you wonder why anyone bothers with complicated menus.
The pepperoni curls at the edges, forming little grease cups that pool with flavor, and the crust holds up under all that cheese weight.
House Rules: Cash, No Reservations, Come Hungry
Part of the charm is how little has changed: cash-only, no reservations, carryout if the line’s long. It’s a system locals know by heart, and it keeps the pace brisk once you’re inside.
I forgot about the cash thing exactly once, standing at the counter like a tourist while my stomach growled. Now I stop at the ATM down the block before every visit.
No apps, no online ordering portal, no table holds. You show up, you wait your turn, you eat incredible pizza. The simplicity is refreshing in a world that overthinks everything, including dinner.
Open Late, Perfect After the Game
Hours run deep into the night, especially on weekends, so ballpark crowds and concertgoers roll in for bubbling pies while the rest of downtown winds down.
There’s something perfect about eating hot pizza at midnight, cheese still bubbling from the oven.
I’ve stumbled in after concerts more times than I can count, joining the happy chaos of other hungry folks who know Luigi’s is the move when everywhere else is closing.
The energy shifts late at night. Everyone’s a little looser, a little hungrier, bonding over shared slices and the universal truth that pizza makes everything better.
Why Locals Keep Coming Back
Because it’s consistent: generous cheese, friendly service, and a ritual that connects generations. On any given night, you’ll see families, old friends, and first-timers all doing the same thing: leaning over a pan of melted mozzarella.
Consistency might sound boring, but it’s actually the highest compliment you can pay a restaurant. Luigi’s tastes the same now as it did when my friend’s grandmother brought her kids here in the seventies.
That reliability builds loyalty. People come back because they know exactly what they’re getting, and what they’re getting is spectacular every single time.
How Luigi’s Became an Akron Institution
Seventy-five years in the same spot will do that. Luigi’s survived urban renewal, economic shifts, and changing food trends by refusing to change what works.
While other restaurants chased farm-to-table movements and molecular gastronomy, Luigi’s kept piling mozzarella on pizzas and salads, trusting that good food speaks for itself. Turns out, they were right.
Now they’re not just a restaurant but a piece of Akron identity, the place people mention when they talk about what makes their city special.
That green awning represents something bigger than pizza: it’s proof that staying true pays off.