Florida Style Inside Out: Is it Legit or is it a Fugazi?

Adam Horvath
2 days ago
3 min read

Some Foodigenous are the result of ingenuity — like somebody actually put thought into it. Take the chow mein sandwich. Only a food genius looks at a steaming pile of cabbage, carrots, and onions and thinks, yeah… let’s put that on a bun.

Others are the result of pure happenstance. Right time, right place. Somebody bumps an elbow, oops — a ravioli falls into hot oil — and suddenly a region’s got a new appetizer on the menu.

And then, every once in a while, you get the casual tiptoe-around-intellectual-property — the “no, no, this is different… mine goes ding-ding-ding-DA-ding-ding— the Vanilla Ice Foodigenous.

But are they ever really different?

Check out the Florida Style Inside Out, for example — an ooey, gooey, scalding-hot pocket of mozzarella and tomato sauce bursting out of deep-fried pizza dough, sold at several cheesesteak jawns and pizzerias throughout Philadelphia. And despite looking exactly like a panzarotti — the trademarked fried “hot pocket” sold across the river in Camden since the 1960s — there’s no reference to it whatsoever.

I mean, shit — at least in Rochester, restaurants have the decency to mention “plate” when they’re riffing on the Garbage Plate.

So it begs the question — is it legit… or is it a fugazi?

Philly Man Sighted Eating Florida Style Pizza

On the corner of Snyder and Beechwood, a faded Florida Style Pizza sign hangs from a vacant brick storefront. The sight of it might cause a brief moment of mental whiplash. It feels wrong — because you’re in the middle of South Philly, not some retirement community outside Boca. And because… what the hell is Florida Style pizza anyway?

Turns out though, the sign isn’t some social media prank. Florida Style Pizza was a real place, and according to paperwork, was opened in September of 1972 by Panagiotis Kotsiopoulos. The sign is a vestige of that original shop — a place that specialized in deep-fried dough that was literally turned inside out.

Four years later, things got interesting. On the same corner — about 25 feet away — Mr. Panz opened up, selling its own crispy fried “calzones,” which they very deliberately called panzorotti (note the spelling — ice ice baby).

What I haven’t been able to figure out is whether this was a full-blown Hatfield-and-McCoys rivalry or a quieter Pat’s-and-Geno’s sitch — the kind where, despite competing for the same customers, you might still catch the owners sipping espresso together at Rim Café.

What I do know is that Florida Style outlasted its competitor, holding down that Beechwood corner for decades before finally closing up shop as late as 2020. And like the sign that hasn’t gone anywhere, neither has Florida Style Pizza — now better known as the Florida Style Inside Out.

Where Can I Find It?

Today, most of the spots still serving Florida Style Inside Outs are supplied by the same wholesaler — Original Florida Style — which means the biggest differences come down to execution. The quality of the oil. And, more importantly, time in the fryer. Too long and you get burnt dough. Too short and the cheese never fully melts through.

Of all the places I’ve tried, Oregon Steaks gets it right. Their Inside Outs are fried in clean, filtered oil and cooked to a crisp perfection — hot, sealed, and satisfying without smelling like a carnival funnel cake.

The Verdict

Does the Florida Style Inside Out give Skeet Ulrich stealing Johnny Depp’s face in Scream? Absolutely! But does that make it bootleg? No!

Let’s be honest: the Tarantinis didn’t invent the panzarotti. Pauline Tarantini mastered it — then introduced it to South Jersey and Philly before anyone else and trademarked the spelling. And maybe if someone tried to roll out a Florida Style Inside Out today for the first time, I’d call it a fugazi.

But like it or not, the Florida Style Inside Out has lived in Philly’s food zeitgeist for over 50 years. That kind of longevity earns its own legitimacy.

This one’s a bona fide Foodigenous