Mancuso Lucio J & Son

Great service, great selection, great prices. I went there for the first time to get some Grana Padano. Now that I’ve experienced the beauty of Mancuso, I can’t imagine why I would go anywhere else in Philadelphia for my salumi and Italian cheese needs. They’ve got the good stuff. Half of the customers in there were old-​time regulars. The other half were newbies like me. The Mancusos know how to make everyone feel welcome and happy to be in their shop. And seriously, from what I saw, the quality of the merchandise can’t be beat.

«Can I get a lemon and cherry mix?»
«Haha, you can have anything you want, sweetie!»
These are just the words you want to hear when an old old Italian man is scooping some fresh waterice for you. With three house made flavors– chocolate, cherry, and lemon– everyone is happy! Why is it not socially acceptable to lay on the floor as someone scoops waterice directly into your mouth?

So, I’m in the shadows of the Bethlehem Steel, standing in the lobby of the Frank Banko Alehouse Cinema and spot a copy of the Summer 2014 Edible PHILLY. I am psyched because there are so many places to go, so much food to try. Today, we left our home in Bethlehem to check out all the places. Our first stop was Mancuso’s and it’s like being back «in de Heights» [as in Chicago Heights, Illinois]. Great cheese, dried soppresata, lemon ice that is divine, owners that I just want to hug, amazing crusty bread, baked ricotta to make your heart sing. I’m definitely coming back for the mozzarella. This place is a genuine find.

Best fresh mozzarella in the city!

My great-​grandmother, though of wealthy English blood, was born in Italy, not that I could say where. Growing up in the American Mediterranean — that is, California — I came to love the marinaded vegetables, olives, hearty bread and cured meats that are so typical of both my home and the Latin peninsula. Philly is, of course, (in)famous for its Italian roots and hell, even my New Yorker mother has heard of DiBruno’s.
But let me tell you what; when she comes here, we’re not going to DiBruno, we’re going to Mancuso. Don’t let the gruff old men with their Marlboro’s on the stoop, or the iron window bars and that faded plexiglass awning fool you, this place is the Truth.
Mr. Mancuso makes the best mozzarella I’ve ever had; my girlfriend and I can eat a pound of his artichoke hearts in a single sitting and there is no better place in the city to get real Italian olive oil without breaking your wallet.
This is NOT, however, the uncouth, hipster/​yuppie friendly scrum of 9^th street. Be prepared to take your time, to occasionally repeat your order — Mr. Mancuso is at least 70, after all! — and to hear the off-​color joke or two while you’re in line. Mind your P’s & Q’s, say «yes sir» and «no sir» and «thank you sir» and smile at the Mrs. when you see her on the weekends. You’ll be back here every week, same as me.

This place ROCKS!!! Randomly stopped by to see what was inside, and while it’s crammed with Italian foods in jars, cans, packages, etc., there is an impressive selection on Italian meats and cheeses. The prices were nearly half on what you’d pay at DiBruno’s for Sopressata and Capicola (I walked out with a lb. of each, plus a huge hunk of Prima Donna). I will be shopping here from now on for all my Italian Antipasti needs!