Denver has many talents. We had the green chile and the IPA loyalty, but when it came to truly crave-worthy pizza, expectations were modest. That began to change when Mamas & Papas Hospitality Group showed up with Redeemer Pizza and Little Johnny B’s, proving that this city was ready to take dough seriously. Their latest, Johnny Bechamel’s, feels like the moment they decided to lean all the way in.
If you’ve ever said “let’s keep it casual” and meant the opposite, this is your place. It works just as well for a weeknight pizza as it does for a celebratory dinner. The room is lively and communal. A corner booth feels pulled from an old Italian-American supper club, while mismatched plates and an antique hutch give grandma vibes. “We wanted people to feel like they just had dinner at a friend’s house, if that friend happened to be an incredible cook with great taste in wine,” says Lulu Chair, Mamas & Papas’ director of operations. “All of these little touches add warmth and character. And that directly influences how we think about the food,” adds chef Spencer White. “We want the dishes to have that same energy. Comforting, nostalgic, but with a sense of fun and personality.”
Italian and Italian-American classics anchor the menu. Béchamel, of course, plays a starring role. “It’s one of the French mother sauces,” Spencer says. “It’s rich and silky and it brings everything together.” You’ll find it in the lasagnette, a reinvention of lasagna where sheets of fresh pasta are baked until crisp and golden. “It’s a fun riff on something everyone knows and loves,” he adds.
That’s the story. “Honoring technique and tradition, but giving ourselves permission to play,” Spencer explains. The pappardelle transforms chicken cacciatore into handmade pasta with a rich, comforting ragù that’s familiar and refined. The chicken meatballs nod to classic comfort before veering off-script with lemony broth, dill oil, and pickled celery, while the pizzas deliver the same confidence across the board. “We want every bite to make you feel comforted, but curious,” he adds. “Like you recognize it, but it still surprises you.”
That balance carries into the way the restaurant fits into daily life. Johnny Bechamel’s isn’t trying to be a once-in-a-while reservation. It’s the kind of place that earns repeat visits, where you start to recognize the room, the menu, and the people you run into at the bar. “It should feel easy,” Lulu says. “Like you belong here.” Even the name plays into that warmth. Johnny Bechamel is a fictional folk hero, imagined as a generous host. He’s the guy who always has a seat for you, another bottle on hand, and something simmering in the kitchen.
For longtime Denver diners, that feeling hits deeper. After years of politely accepting that great pizza just wasn’t our thing, Johnny Bechamel’s feels like a confident, joyful correction. It’s a neighborhood joint you return to, built by a hospitality group that decided Denver deserves pizza worth obsessing over. Not precious. Not performative. Just solidly, seriously good, served in a room that feels like home.
For print-exclusive stories, download the digital magazine or pick up a copy from select local King Soopers, Safeway, Tattered Cover, or Barnes & Noble locations.
