You Order Imported Prosciutto By Weight Inside This Crowded Florida Italian Market

I walked in for a sandwich and walked out holding three paper tickets, a warm loaf and more cured ham than any one person needs. Florida has an Italian market where imported prosciutto is sliced to order by weight, fresh pasta is rolled behind glass and the bakery never seems to slow down.

The parking lot fills early, and the counters stay busy from the moment the doors open. Come hungry, grab a number fast and leave room in the car for a cooler.

A Plain Front on 22nd Avenue North

A steady stream of cars circles the lot off 22nd Avenue North, hunting for a space that opens up just as another shopper wedges a paper sack of bread into a back seat. The building itself looks like a modest stucco storefront, the kind of place a person could drive past for years.

That plainness does not last past the front door.

Espresso, garlic, warm crust and cured pork hit all at once inside Mazzaro’s Italian Market, a sprawling Italian grocery that behaves more like a European market hall than a supermarket. Aisles fan out into a maze of rooms, each with its own counter, its own staff and its own line.

Shoppers weave past each other with baskets of jarred tomatoes, wedges of cheese and white bakery boxes, while religious statues and old-world décor fill the corners.

Every department runs on a numbered ticket system, so a single trip can mean holding three or four paper slips at once. I grabbed one for the deli before I even knew what I wanted, which turned out to be the smartest move of the morning.

Bring patience, an empty stomach and a cooler if the drive home runs long. The market sits at 2909 22nd Ave N, St. Petersburg, Florida 33713.

Roots in a 1982 Coffee Roaster

How does a coffee roaster turn into one of the busiest Italian food halls on the Gulf Coast? Slowly, and one department at a time.

Mazzaro’s began in 1982 as a coffee roasting operation run by Sam and Pat Cuccaro.

In 1993 the business moved to its present spot and expanded in a big way. Their son, Kurt, helped add a brick oven for baking bread, and that oven changed the character of the place.

Once fresh loaves came out of the back every day, the rest of the market started to grow around them.

Coffee still matters here, even with everything else competing for attention. Fresh roasted beans are sold by the bag, and a coffee bar pulls espresso and cappuccino for shoppers who need a caffeine break between counters.

Over three decades the footprint spread into a cluster of rooms: a salumeria, a cheese room, a pasta area, a butcher and seafood counter, a bakery, a gelato counter and a gourmet import section. A separate building on the property, Casa di Mazzaro, now handles housewares, gifts and cooking classes.

The result feels less like a store that was planned and more like a family kitchen that kept adding rooms.

Imported Prosciutto, Sliced to Order

Pale pink ribbons of ham fall off the slicer so thin you can almost read through them. The salumeria draws the thickest crowd in the building, and the hum around the case never lets up.

Prosciutto di Parma and San Daniele both sit in the lineup, alongside salami, soppressata, pancetta and mortadella. Everything is sold by weight, which means a quarter pound for a snack board is as welcome as a big order for a holiday spread.

Slicers cut each order to preference, from nearly transparent to a little thicker for cooking.

Grab a ticket the moment you walk up. Then use the wait to study the case and decide how thin you want it, because the counter moves fast once your number is called.

Supermarket packs of cured meat come pre-sliced and sealed in plastic, often days old. Here the ham is cut minutes before it lands in your bag, wrapped in paper, still smelling faintly sweet and nutty.

I bought a modest amount for a picnic and ate a third of it in the car before leaving the lot. The deli case also holds cold salads and sliced cheeses, so a whole board can come together at one counter.

A Cheese Room Built for Slow Browsing

Cool air brushes your arms first, then the view opens onto wheels, wedges and wrapped logs stacked along every wall. The cheese room carries hundreds of imported and domestic varieties, with a heavy lean toward Italy.

Fresh mozzarella is made in-house, and buffalo milk mozzarella sits in the case for anyone who wants the richer, tangier version. Hard grating cheeses, soft rinds, blues and smoked rounds fill out the rest, all cut to order.

Not sure where to begin? Ask for a taste of something unfamiliar and build from there.

Staff handle questions with ease even when the room is shoulder to shoulder.

The cheese room stays calm compared to the deli, but the pantry aisles just outside are anything but. More than 300 varieties of olive oil and vinegar line the shelves near truffles, spices, specialty chocolates, tinned fish, canned tomatoes, polenta and pickled vegetables, plus a spread of olives up front.

Pair a wedge with a few slices of ham, a jar of olives and a crusty loaf, and dinner is handled without turning on the stove. Eat the mozzarella the same day for the best texture, and save the aged wedges for later in the week.

Watch the Pasta Get Made

Flour dust hangs in the air near the back, where a window looks straight into the room where fresh pasta gets rolled, cut and filled. Kids press close to the glass, and so do plenty of grown adults.

Pasta fresca is made daily, and filled varieties are sold by the pound. Imported dry pasta covers shapes most grocery aisles never stock, so a bag of something new is easy to grab.

Prepared trays of lasagna, manicotti and ravioli, plus take-and-bake pizza and fresh sauces, sit ready for an easy weeknight.

How does anyone leave the bakery with just one loaf? The brick oven turns out Italian, semolina, Tuscan, ciabatta, focaccia and rosemary breads every day, and the smell reaches halfway across the store.

I picked up a slab of focaccia topped with sun-dried tomatoes, onions and garlic, planning to save it for dinner. It made it about as far as the parking lot.

The crust shatters a little, the middle stays soft, and a heavy hand with olive oil keeps it glossy.

Buy bread last, right before checkout, so it stays warm for the drive home.

The Sandwich Counter Has Its Own Rules

The prepared-food line at the back is the longest in the building, and the ordering method can confuse first-timers. Take a number, study the board, and be ready when your turn comes, because the noise makes it hard to hear calls.

Warm bread and pressed panini smells drift over the crowd while orders fly out wrapped in paper.

The Fig and Pig and the Mortadella Pistachio are two of the headliners, both built on bread from the in-house oven. The Hot Italian, a caprese panini, a grouper po’ boy, a seared tuna sandwich and a hefty Reuben round out a menu that stretches the definition of a grocery store lunch.

Portions fill you up without being overloaded, and prices sit reasonable for the quality.

Skip the wait entirely by ordering online and picking up at the patio. That trick alone can save a good chunk of a lunch hour on a busy weekend.

The midday rush peaks around lunch, then thins out after about two o’clock. I ordered at the tail end of it, ate on the covered patio, and still had room for dessert, barely.

An Italian salad makes a lighter choice for anyone saving space.

Cannoli, Rugelach and One More Box of Cookies

White bakery boxes stack up on the pastry counter faster than staff can tie the string. Behind the glass sit cannoli, sfogliatelle, tiramisu, cannoli cake, house-made biscotti and trays of Italian cookies in every shape.

The team rattles off recommendations quickly, which helps when every tray looks tempting.

Rugelach comes in apricot, raspberry and chocolate-raspberry, and raspberry linzer cookies sit right beside them. The doughnut case adds oddballs like a tiramisu doughnut and glazed red velvet doughnut holes.

Coconut cake appears by the slice.

Cannoli purist or sfogliatelle convert? The traditional cannoli makes a strong case for keeping things simple, with a crisp shell and a smooth, sweet cream filling.

Cold, dense gelato waits at its own counter, churned fresh daily in rotating flavors. It makes a sensible finish on a steamy Florida afternoon, especially after a heavy sandwich.

Head to the pastry counter early. The line there often moves faster than the deli, so grabbing a ticket first and wandering while you wait keeps the whole visit efficient.

Cookies travel well, while cream-filled pastries want a cool car and a short drive home.

Planning a Florida Market Morning

Weekends and the lunch hour bring the heaviest crowds, and weekend hours run shorter than weekdays. Arriving right at opening, or in the mid-afternoon lull on a weekday, makes for calmer aisles.

Check the current schedule before driving out.

The double parking lot fills early, and circling for a spot is part of the routine. Tour buses sometimes pull in too, so a larger group may find the counters tight and patio seating scarce.

Budget around two hours to see everything, and bring a cooler. Stop at the butcher and seafood counter on the way out for coffee-rubbed pork chops, mild Italian sausage or a fresh fish fillet, so they spend less time in a warm car.

Getting there is simple, since the market sits just off I-275 in St. Petersburg, a short drive across the bay from Tampa. Prices land in a fair range for imported goods, and a quick pastry-and-sausage run can stay modest.

Before leaving, walk across the property to Casa di Mazzaro for kitchen tools, gifts and cooking classes. Plenty of grocery stores sell cured ham; far fewer slice it to order in a room that smells like espresso and warm focaccia.