He also managed Macks North in the late '60s — before a family feud led him to open a series of his own Giuseppe's pizza shops up and down the Jersey Shore in a near-30-year failed quest to be as successful as his kin.

"I'm the only one without a Mercedes," he says with a rueful laugh.

In 2003 Joey decided to move someplace with cheaper rents, a slower pace and enough distance from the relatives that he could use the Mack name and still have it mean something.

"At one time, three-quarters of South Philly went to Wildwood in the summer," he explains from a plastic patio chair under pictures of celebrities who ate his pizza when he made it in Atlantic City.

For the benefit of those who have never been there, Joey explains boardwalk pizza's unique attributes:

1. A thin and crispy crust, from a special recipe that "cannot be used for bread."
2. A sauce that is applied in concentric circles and traditionally pumped through a hose. (Although Joey now pours it from a coffeepot.)
3. A "different cheese" which, at first, Joey refuses to identify. "It'll ruin my business," he protests. "It's delicious but if people hear it's not mozzarella, they'll think it's cheap." Eventually he relents by revealing a bag labeled "shredded white cheddar."

Put it all together fresh every day, the way Joey does, and what you get is a light, deliciously simple, mildly tangy treat that must seem all the more special when it also recalls memories of summer vacation. Maybe that's why Joey boasts of customers who drive 40 minutes or more, saying, "There is nowhere else around here where they can get this taste."

(At least, there wasn't until mid-June, when a franchise of Maruca's opened in Cherry Hill, N.J.)