Perla’s Pizza — Orlando’s Vinyl-Fired Pie House
By Rafi Mercer
New Listing
Venue Name: Perla’s Pizza
Address: 959 W Fairbanks Ave, Winter Park (Orlando), Florida, United States.
Website: perlaspizzafl.com
Instagram: @perlaspizza
In the soft dusk of Winter Park, just north of Orlando’s core, a door opens on something unexpected: a pizzeria that thinks in grooves and flavours, where vinyl stacks join pizza stacks, and cocktails aren’t afterthoughts but part of the architecture. This is Perla’s Pizza — a place built around non-conformity, sound systems, and the odd banana-topped pie.
The décor catches you immediately: warm light, wood surfaces, records visible behind the bar, and that small-town ease softened by global ambition. Walk in once, and you feel the place. Walk in after dark, and you hear it: that thick vinyl hum, the honest clink of glasses, the hum of conversation that steps back when the LP hits the groove. It’s not loud; it’s vital.
Chef-curator Michael Collantes (formerly Michelin-starred) leads the kitchen, and the menu reflects his playful edge. This is Florida-style pizza — yes, bananas might be on the crust — but it’s also deeply serious: doughs pulled with care, toppings unorthodox but measured, pies that finish with the click of a stylus landing. One plate might shock, another comforts; together they shape a night.
But the sound is what anchors the experience. Perla’s bills itself as “Pizza. Cocktails. Vinyl.” — and they mean it. The bar houses a curated vinyl library, regular DJ drops, and a sound system taut enough to carry rhythm without overwhelming. The bass has body, the midrange clarity, highs breathe. Drinks linger, tracks linger, you linger. The music doesn’t dominate; it sets the tone.
The cocktail list mirrors the audacious pie line-up. Classics with a twist, house infusions, and a bold willingness to experiment. The bar keeps pace with the kitchen: just as the toppings ask you to reconsider what pizza can be, the drinks ask you to rethink what a late-night slice should accompany. Share a pie, sip a drink, watch the needle drop — the night moves in measures of taste and tempo.
Perla’s isn’t a club. It’s not a lounge. It’s a hybrid: a late-night place where food and sound claim equal stage. The hours reflect that: Wednesday-Thursday evenings begin around 5 pm through 1 am; Fridays and Saturdays push to 2 am. Early south winds through Winter Park carry the tail end of the city’s pulse — Perla’s catches it, slows it, and plays it back.
The crowd knows this. A mix of locals, music-heads, food obsessives and visitors who’ve heard the rumour: yes, there’s a pizza place with vinyl and cocktails. You’ll find bar seats facing the record wall, booths where glasses rest mid-song, Friday evenings where the turntables come alive. The experience feels communal, not curated; spontaneous, not staged.
Walking back out into Winter Park’s quieter streets, you carry something. The taste of a slice that didn’t just fill but asked you to think. The hum of a track that landed smooth. The sense that you’ve spent a night tuned to something rare. Perla’s Pizza is not just a destination; it’s a frequency you dial into.
Rafi Mercer writes about the spaces where music matters. For more stories from Tracks & Tales, subscribe, or click here.
