It was the kind of Friday in September that begged for a T–shirt and some friendly conversation—the perfect day to spend an hour in line at Angelo’s Pizzeria. Outside the modest South Philly storefront, the line curled around the block. Strangers, each with their own unique stories, stood side by side, united by a singular purpose: the pursuit of what’s said to be Philly's best cheesesteak. Over the course of an hour, this unlikely assembly became something more—a fleeting community defined by a rare sense of camaraderie that would dissolve as quickly as it had formed.
A six–foot–something handyman with a beer belly straining under his faded T–shirt and sun–weathered skin like leather casually directs a family of out–of–towners—their voices thick with a drawl—toward the right ordering line. A wiry teenager, earbuds in, sits on the curb, patiently waiting for his order. He’s in no rush—his mom is still in her meetings for the work trip that dragged him all the way here from the West Coast.
A family of four meandered over from the park next door, fresh from soccer practice. Maddie and Josie, the two young daughters, still buzzing with post–practice energy, clacked along in their bright pink cleats. Grabbing pizza from Angelo’s was a family ritual—especially when the line wasn’t too long. Hugh, the dad and a true South Philly local, was quick to share the kind of history only a longtime resident could. He pointed to where Angelo’s now stood, explaining how it once housed Sarcone’s Deli, and just a few doors down, Sarcone’s Bakery still turned out what he called “incredible Italian loaves.” Gesturing across the street to the old Sarcone family home, Hugh noted that the family was connected by marriage to Danny DiGiampietro, Angelo’s founder. As he spoke, he reflected on how much the neighborhood had evolved since his youth, yet these Italian institutions—like Ralph’s, the classic “red sauce” restaurant next to Sarcone’s—had held fast to their roots. During his retelling, the block seemed to breathe with history, so much more than just a row of storefronts.
Alisha and Sally, a mother and daughter separated by distance, don’t get to see each other often. For Sally’s birthday weekend, they planned a special reunion, meeting in Philly from their far–flung homes in Houston and San Francisco. Their Uber driver had raved about Angelo’s, insisting it was the best spot in town for a cheesesteak. Now, standing side by side in the line, they relished the rare opportunity to bond—a mother–daughter cheesesteak pilgrimage in a city far from home.
Jason from Phoenix, here for a family wedding, has a simple reason for joining the crowd: "Dave Portnoy told me to." For him, no further explanation is needed.
Christina and Marty, a couple from South Florida, are far from their sun–soaked beaches, here for a concert. Physical media buffs, they wandered South Street, entranced by its vintage charm, and now sit on the curb, giddy over a bag of new vinyl finds. Jaded by life back home, they’ve been toying with the idea of relocating to their new favorite city, Philly. As they wait for their cheesesteaks, a quiet question lingers—could this meal be the final push that makes Philly feel like home?
Jason from Kansas City, Mo. is a frequent Philly visitor—every time he’s here for work, he stops by the Chiefs bar and makes the rounds for cheesesteaks. A true connoisseur, he weighs in on the classics: Geno’s has the better meat, but Pat’s wins for how they melt the cheese. This time, though, he’s here to see if Angelo’s will dethrone them both. He’s heard about it at least 20 times. Will this be his new go–to spot?
Corrina and Kayla, sisters from Staten Island, stand in line with little Layla, Kayla’s one–year–old daughter whose big black eyes soak in the scene. They’ve come all this way just for this, after watching a TikTok video that convinced them Angelo’s cheesesteak was worth the journey.
Meltem, freshly moved from Russia, has been in Philly just two weeks. Still finding her footing in a new city, she’s here at Angelo’s for a taste of what locals call the best.
The Lovingood family from Virginia is on a mission to find their son an apartment for his new job. Originally from Philly, they’re back for what they declare is “the best cheesesteak, hands down.” Every time they visit, they stop at Angelo’s, a ritual that feels like home.
As the line at Angelo’s crept forward, it felt less like waiting for a cheesesteak and more like a gathering of stories, each as personal as the people telling them. Locals, tourists, and curious wanderers pack themselves together, all pulled in by different reasons—a dad reliving the history of the block, sisters chasing a TikTok–inspired dream, a jaded couple wondering if this cheesesteak might convince them to start fresh in a new city. And as they inched closer to the front window, step by step, the cheesesteak they came for felt almost secondary to the experience itself.
TLDR: Angelo's is more than the best cheesesteak in Philly–it's also the perfect microcosm of the city.
Location: 736 S 9th St.
Price: $$
Hours: 11 a.m.–7 p.m. Wednesday–Sundays.
