It’s hard to lure downtown diners to Bucks County, and Roberto Carollo knows it.
Carollo’s wood-fired pizzeria inside Doylestown’s Main Street Marketplace, Spuntino, has a loyal, longstanding following, so much so that when the Washington Post analyzed 7.5 million nationwide Yelp reviews in 2023, it determined Spuntino to have the highest-rated Neapolitan pie in Pennsylvania.
“We’ve had a lot of love from the people that matter to us, but I still feel like the suburbs are a really tough place to get attention,” Carollo said. “We’ve been here 12 years, but even Doylestown residents are still finding out about us.”
Roberto Carollo makes the Carbonara pizza at Spuntino on Monday, Aug. 31, 2026 in Doylestown, Pa.Monica Herndon / Staff Photographer
But Spuntino’s puffy, leopard-spotted pies are worth a trek from wherever you may be. Thin, chewy, and judiciously loaded, the pizzas are best eaten then and there, at one of the several tables Spuntino claims inside the market. (Takeout — and leftovers — are perfectly satisfying, too.)
Carollo opened Spuntino in Doylestown in 2014 with his brother Salvatore. (They also had a Northern Liberties location from 2015 to 2023. Carollo is now Spuntino’s sole owner.) The brothers are fourth-generation pizza makers, dating back to their Sicilian great-grandfather’s bakery days. They had grown up working in their father’s Philly-area neighborhood pizzerias — “your big 16-inch pies, hoagies, sandwiches,” Carollo said — but they hadn’t made Neapolitan pies before, and they had no experience with wood-fired ovens.
“We kind of just were going in on a prayer,” Carollo said. They had their work cut out for them with this exacting style of pizza. At Spuntino, a 250-gram ball of 48- to 72-hour fermented dough is stretched into a millimeters-thin 11-inch round, then covered with sauce, cheese, and toppings before being pitched into afiery 900-degree oven, where it cooks in about 90 seconds. The pizzaiolo needs to have an eagle eye. “Five or six seconds too long, and the pizza’s burned,” Carollo said.
Roberto Carollo pulls a Ronzio pizza from the oven at Spuntino on Monday, Aug. 31, 2026 in Doylestown, Pa.Monica Herndon / Staff Photographer
Evidently, his prayers were heard: Inquirer critic Craig LaBan named Spuntino among the suburbs’ best pizzas in 2017. Carollo said his chops have only gotten sharper since. “[The pizza] is so much better, and I think that’s natural, that’s normal. Anybody who has any profession — a major athlete — when they start at 18, they’re not as good, hopefully, as they are when they’re 25.”
It’s hard to choose among the 23-pie menu, but Carollo always recommends setting a baseline with a Regina, with milled San Marzano tomatoes, Lioni buffalo mozzarella, fresh basil, and salty pecorino Romano. My family scarfed one of those down, but our favorites were the Ronzio — with the same tomatoes and mozzarella, plus thin-sliced soppressata, shaved garlic, Sicilian oregano, mild Calabrian chilies, and a drizzle of honey — and the Carbonara, a white pie with pancetta, caramelized onions, fresh mozz, pecorino, and an egg yolk that’s finished with black pepper and olive oil.
The Carbonara and Ronzio pizzas at Spuntino on Monday, Aug. 31, 2026 in Doylestown, Pa.Monica Herndon / Staff Photographer
We’ll be back for what Carollo considers his most underrated pizza — the Tonno, a red pie with Sicilian tuna and red onion — plus another spin through his fellow vendors in the family-friendly Main Street Marketplace, including Hops/Scotch and the Department of Note stationary store and boutique. Carollo makes a very good point, and Spuntino is proof: “There are a lot of places out in the suburbs that are making such amazing pizza.”
Spuntino, 22 S. Main St., Doylestown, 215-340-7660, spuntinowoodfiredpizzeria.com
Several weeks ago, The Inquirer food desk deliberated on declaring a sandwich of the summer, after the New York Times designated Italian piadinas their pick for said title (a phenomenon that seems mostly confined to Brooklyn). Personally, I think the designation is pretty silly. Why?
The hot dog is the sandwich of the summer. It always has been, but it’s especially true now.
Hot dogs at Royal Tavern’s Dog Days of Summer special, held annually in July. (A few dogs remain on the menu in August.)Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
The boom times won’t necessarily end after Labor Day, but, for many people, hot dogs have a season, and it is summer. After all, nearly half of the 100 million hot dogs made annually by Dietz and Watson, Philly’s homegrown deli meat maker, are sold between May and August, according to Lauren Eni Canseco, Dietz’s vice president of brand strategy and fourth-generation family owner.
Food handlers packaging Black Forest Uncured Knockwurst at Dietz and Watson plant Philadelphia in 2025. Dietz and Watson produces and distributes deli meats, cheeses, and other specialty food products.Alejandro A. Alvarez / Staff Photographer
That the hot dog is the sandwich of the summer, here or anywhere, seems so obvious, it almost shouldn’t even need to be verbalized. It’s ballpark food, barbecue food — summer food.
The one major hitch? The enduring, irreconcilable debate over whether a hot dog is a sandwich. This is well-tread ground among hot dog enthusiasts, a subset of civilization that is fiercely opinionated and quite vociferous.
To give both sides of the argument equal air time, I asked several local glizzy authorities — makers, avid consumers, etc. — to weigh in. Is a hot dog a sandwich? Here’s what they said:
Craig LaBan, Inquirer restaurant critic: Technically, yes. As much as a hoagie, or hot roast beef, cheesesteak or cutlet can be a sandwich. You put sausage on a bun and call it a sandwich. Hot dog is a sausage, so …That is not to say hot doggery is the same thing as eating a peanut butter and jelly. … and it’s true hot dogs can absolutely exist on their own — in a pot of beans or Korean Army soup, baked into a croissant, wrapped in a blanket, in which cases they are not a sandwich. So … now that I rethink it, a hot dog is NOT a sandwich, but it can become one.
Standard hot dog with ketchup and mustard, hot dog with pepper hash, and hot dog with fish cake and pepper hash at Johnny’s Hots on Aug. 17.Jessica Griffin / Staff Photographer
Chris Barnes, owner of Lucky’s Last Chance: A hot dog is a hot dog! It’s unique and perfect and one of one. Anyone who says otherwise probably also likes ketchup on it.
Jen Zavala, owner of Juana Tamale: Yes, a finger sandwich.
Sandwiches are commonly considered a complete meal. One hot dog is a snack. You need two or three to make a meal.
Sandwiches are usually portable, packable. Something you can put in a Ziploc, bring for lunch, or save for later. This is not a pleasant or regular practice with hot dogs, they are designed to be eaten immediately.
Sandwiches are usually COLD, unless advertised as a “hot sandwich.” Hot dogs are almost NEVER served cold.
Hot dogs and sandwiches are best purchased from different sorts of vendors. You probably wouldn’t want a hoagie from your favorite Center City hot dog lunch cart; and you probably wouldn’t want a hot dog from your favorite Philadelphia deli (I’ve tried) — unless it was Famous 4th Street.
I’ve been painting and writing about hot dogs for almost 20 years. Poring over old articles, menus, going back to the early 1900s. Very rarely, or maybe even never, have I seen a hot dog historically referred to as a sandwich.
An assortment of classic hot dogs with mustard and ketchup writing at Ortlieb’s in Northern Liberties.Tyger Williams / Staff Photographer
Nic Macri, chef at Royal Tavern: Considering a hot dog is a hot dog without the bun, I am going to say no. I’ll tell you what is not a hot dog — a sausage in a hot dog roll!
Pierre Li Peters, aka @theehotdogsummer: A hot dog is not a sandwich because it’s an entirely different art form. A hot dog is a hot dog, even when it doesn’t look like the classic Nathan’s frank we all imagine. For example, a corn dog could be considered a part of the hot dog family but doesn’t really fit into the sandwich category … The beautiful thing about the hot dog community: It’s not limited in being classified as a sandwich; creativity flourishes due to unique characteristics shaped by the regions that enjoy them.
Lauren Eni Canseco, Dietz & Watson VP: A hot dog CAN be a sandwich, but it can also be an ingredient, an entree, or a snack! If it’s a high-quality, high-protein dog, the possibilities are endless.
Retro wall decor at Dietz & Watson pop-up store at Fifth and South Streets in 2019.JESSICA GRIFFIN / Staff Photographer
Emilie Dormer, aka @glizzygirliez: In my heart, I don’t consider a hot dog a sandwich. A hot dog feels like its own category entirely. There’s something culturally distinct about it that gets lost when you simply call it a sandwich. That said, if you forced me to place it into one of the traditional food categories, I’d have to admit that yes, structurally, I guess that it probably qualifies as a sandwich. Bread, filling, handheld … the evidence is unfortunately there.
Ralph Stollenwerk, artist and hot dog illustrator: I think a hot dog is as much of a sandwich as a hoagie. Nobody officially calls it a “hoagie sandwich,” [just] as nobody calls it a “hot dog sandwich,” but it is meat held between bread. I’m calling it a sandwich, but I would NEVER call it a sandwich in public.
As for me, I pretty much agree with Stollenwerk. You can quibble with my headline, but the substance of the argument is undeniable: The hot dog is the sandwich of the summer, even if the “sandwich” is silent.
In early 2025, John Goncher knew it was time to get out of his living room.
That’s where the ex-CFO and Rosemont resident was singlehandedly baking some 700 loaves a week for his sourdough startup, Wild Yeast Bakehouse. Between mixing and proofing dough, packing all his product, working weekend markets, and dropping bread at a couple hundred subscribers’ doorsteps, Goncher was running on fumes. Even his smartwatch knew it.
“My little watch told me, ‘You’re averaging more sleep this year.’ I went from three hours and 10 minutes to three hours and 20 minutes over the year,” Goncher said over a recent interview at Wild Yeast’s newly opened brick-and-mortar bakery in Wayne’s Eagle Village shopping center.
Owner John Goncher, chatting with D’Arcy Lyness and her husband, Larry Richard, of Wayne, Pa., who discovered the Wild Yeast Bakehouse yesterday and came in to buy some bread on Wednesday, July 22, 2026.Tyger Williams / Staff Photographer
Sandwiched between two well-established Main Line restaurants (Autograph Brasserie and The Silverspoon), Wild Yeast officially opened July 18. It joins Wayne’s burgeoning food scene: Notable newcomers include the splashy Maison Lotus, Main Line darling Johnny’s Pizza, and boutique wine bar Nature’s Vin.
The bakery is open Wednesday through Sunday, selling a variety of sourdough loaves, from kid-friendly cinnamon-raisin and sandwich bread to olive herb and oat porridge boules. You can also score Gryphon coffee, whole-grain Castle Valley Mill flour, and Wild Yeast’s own sourdough focaccia, cookies, and scones for now. (More discard-fueled pastry projects are in development.)
With crown molding picture boxes, a cozy-chic sofa, and a sunny window seat, the bakery has a living room vibe — perhaps not surprising given Goncher once dreamed of baking out of his living room forever.
The inside of Wild Yeast Bakehouse in Wayne, Pa., on Wednesday, July 22, 2026.Tyger Williams / Staff Photographer
It was in early 2025 that Goncher first started looking at spaces to move his cottage business, which he started in 2021 after leaving a career in finance. Thanks to a combination of farmers market traffic and media attention, his business had ballooned. He was baking bread for half a dozen wholesale clients and nearly 250 monthly subscribers, plus a sell-out crowd at the Media farmers market.
Keeping up with that demand meant maintaining a brutal schedule seven days a week. Goncher would roll into his living room shortly after 2 a.m. and bake until 6 a.m. The meat of the day consisted of readying and making deliveries (or working the market), followed by afternoon and evening dough prep. Most nights, he went to bed at 11 p.m. Meanwhile, he was turning away new business.
“I said to my wife, ‘It either has to contract or it has to really grow,’” Goncher remembered. “We have to move out and do something with it.”
D’Arcy Lyness and her husband, Larry Richard, of Wayne, Pa., picking out some bread at Wild Yeast Bakehouse on Wednesday, July 22, 2026.Tyger Williams / Staff Photographer
Goncher initially considered spaces in Bryn Mawr — “I was looking close to home, because [I had a] 10-second commute, I figured under 10 minutes would be ideal” — but shifted his sights elsewhere when he learned Malvern’s Buttery would be opening a new location there. He looked at leases in Ardmore as well before landing on the bustling Eagle Village complex, which numbers home and clothing boutiques, a florist, a barre studio, and Main Line Mahjong among its varied tenants.
“This place [gets] constant traffic,” Goncher said.
Goncher inked the lease on the stone-faced storefront at 503 Lancaster Ave. last November. He spent six months renovating it, working with the same architect and builders who renovated his own home. The 1,500-square-foot space features a retail counter and small seating area, and is subdivided by large picture windows that overlook a roomy, well-lit kitchen destined to be used for evening baking classes.
The outside of Wild Yeast Bakehouse in Wayne, Pa., on Wednesday, July 22, 2026.Tyger Williams / Staff Photographer
Offering classes is one aspect of growth the brick-and-mortar space allows for, Goncher said. But it will also enable him to take on more subscribers and wholesale accounts in the near future, expand Wild Yeast’s offerings, get more involved in the Main Line community — and, hopefully, reclaim a whiff of work-life balance.
Wild Yeast now has six employees, including an operations manager, a delivery driver, and three other bakers besides Goncher.
Fresh oat porridge at Wild Yeast Bakehouse in Wayne, Pa., on Wednesday, July 22, 2026.Tyger Williams / Staff Photographer
The additional hands have already helped Goncher get a little more sleep — “my goal is [to work] 5 [a.m.] to 6 [p.m.], I’m 3 to 9:30 as of yesterday” — not to mention most of his living room back. He’s looking forward to what a new chapter holds for Wild Yeast.
“I was ready to have this stop being about me,” Goncher said. “I want it to to be something that starts to have a life of its own.”
Wild Yeast Bakehouse. Hours: 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Wednesday through Sunday; 503 W. Lancaster Ave., Suite 1105, Wayne; 610-672-6884; wildyeastbakehouse.com
