CERES OPENED WITH NO MARKETING, A STACK OF MAXED-OUT CREDIT CARDS, AND A CELLAR FULL OF IMPORTED PEPPERS. THE TWO ELEVEN MADISON PARK ALUMS BEHIND THE SLICE SHOP AREN’T CHASING NEW YORK’S VIRAL PIZZA SCENE. INSTEAD, THEY’RE CHAMPIONING PIES—AND A SPACE—CRAFTED TO BE TIMELESS.
It’s early morning on Mott Street. The city has just begun to stir, but the powerhouse duo behind Ceres has been elbow-deep in dough since dawn, ten feet below Manhattan. As they delicately fold the enormous masses of sourdough, the scent of fermenting flour hangs heavy in the bunker-like kitchen. The two young chefs only have a few hours before an expectant line of New Yorkers forms outside their Chinatown pizza joint.
“What we are doing is not normal,” says Jacob Serebnick as he hands a coffee to his partner, Julian Geldmacher. “Some people think we’re a bit crazy for doing this.”
FROM MADISON TO MOTT
When Serebnick (25) and Geldmacher (29) opened Ceres in early 2025, they had just $2,000 left in the bank—barely enough for a batch of dough and fifty pizzas. “We put almost a quarter of a million dollars on credit cards,” Geldmacher admits, recalling their leap into pizza entrepreneurship without investors or a safety net.
They stood behind the counter on a chilly February morning, anxiously watching the door, hoping customers would appear. Mike Chau, known for his popular Instagram account Food Baby, was their very first guest, posting online that two former Eleven Madison Park chefs had quietly opened a slice shop.
“We didn’t even think to mention that we worked at EMP,” Geldmacher says humbly. “It wasn’t part of our narrative at all.” Word of the duo’s crisp slices and culinary pedigree sparked a quiet fire, turning the once-empty space into a neighborhood staple within a matter of weeks.
“We have no interest in becoming part of the pizza scene, per se. We don’t want to be bogged down with all of the rules and expectations of a slice shop. We want to do what we want to do.”
A SLICE THAT’S SHUTDOWN-PROOF
Like many of the city’s chefs, Geldmacher and Serebnick found themselves out of a job during the pandemic. That’s when their gears started turning. Inspired by the simplicity and reliability of pizza, they asked themselves, “What's a food we can always serve? What's a food that is shutdown-proof?” says Geldmacher. But perfection took time—four years, to be exact.
“I’m from Manasquan, New Jersey,” Serebnick explains. “In a town like that, there are only one or two places where I will even eat. One is a pizza shop. A few years ago, I started working with the owner, the same guy who gave me my first job ever. Julian came down, tried the pizza, and really liked it.” From there, the two young chefs spent years refining dough recipes, meticulously testing toppings, and obsessing over every detail, determined to elevate the humble New York slice into something truly exceptional.
“We are always looking for new products to make our pizza stand out and make it better than it already is,” says Geldmacher. He walks over to an unassuming cardboard box and cracks it open with a wry smile. “That’s 4,000 dollars of pickled peppers right there.” The chefs insist no one in New York is sourcing pizza toppings with the same eye for quality. Serebnick clarifies that the Italian food purveyor Gustiamo imports the large jars of papacella napoletana, a sweet Italian pepper, specifically for Ceres’s tomato slice.
“Every pizza shop says they use the best quality ingredients,” says Serebnick. “We really do!” yells Geldmacher from the back of the cellar. He motions to the fridge: “We just got our cheese price down to $11.50 a pound. Most people pay a third of that. If you go around to any other pizza place and say we’re willing to pay $11.50 a pound for cheese, they'll call us crazy and their jaws will hit the floor.”
Such dedicated sourcing is evident across all of the shop’s offerings, where the philosophy is straightforward. “We treat each slice like its own dish,” says Geldmacher. “Each slice gets three to four finishing touches,” like drizzles of aged balsamic, leaves of fresh basil, and generous shavings of vacche rosse.
“We treat each slice like its own dish.”
A TIMELESS PIZZA JOINT
Stepping into Ceres, one could imagine that the pair had experience in interior design as well as fine dining. Geldmacher emphasizes he’s not an aesthete—“I just know what I like.” Dark wood paneling and warm lighting are complemented by sleek stainless steel counters and rattan chairs. The space is equal parts recognizable slice shop and minimalist pizza clubhouse. “We were just trying to make a room that was nice to hang out in and eat pizza,” Serebnick notes. “We wanted something timeless.” The space evokes the aesthetic of a classic pizza shop, but without framed photos of Spider-Man. Ceres, simply put, is a mid-century-modern temple to pizza.
Serebnick and Geldmacher approached the design of their space on their own, eschewing outside input in favor of realizing a personal vision. “We didn’t want investors to tell us what ingredients to use, or how the space needs to look,” Geldmacher says with a smile. “Investors don’t just give you money and say: this is your first restaurant, have fun.”
A TWO-MAN ARMY
Operationally, it's just the two of them in the shop every lunch and dinner, manning the register, throwing the dough, and shaving fresh parmiggiano reggiano.
“People always tell us that we need more help back there,” Geldmacher shares as he laughs. “For now, it’s just us.”
Serebnick elaborates: “It’s not really a matter of people. We can only fit six pies in our ovens at once. We can make around 24 pizzas an hour—in reality, more like 20.” That reality means managing long lines and navigating absurd guest requests. “Some people come in and ask for one of each slice, and then one slice of tomato with the works, and then one tomato slice without parm, and then ask to divide that into three boxes,” Geldmacher recounts, bewildered. Serebnick chuckles and adds, “I grew up going to slice shops all the time. I’ve never walked into one and said, ‘give me two of everything.’ People do that here. ”
Ceres has withstood the pressure. “We’ve become the new go-to pizza spot or lunch spot for some people,” Serebnick says proudly. “That’s been the most rewarding part of doing this. We have no interest in becoming part of the pizza scene, per se.” As he pinches the pizza dough to test its consistency, the young chef explains that he doesn’t want to be bogged down with the rules that have come to define the New York slice. “The most exciting part for me and Julian is just becoming part of this neighborhood and the city.”
Geldmacher echoes his partners’ ambition. “We set out to be a neighborhood slice shop and not a viral Instagram place. We don’t want to be part of a TikTok hype cycle.”
For now, the pair is doing exactly what they set out to—making exceptional pizza their way: no compromises, no investors, and certainly no viral TikTok dances. Just pizza made from the best ingredients a credit card can buy.
“A lot of places are built with a current hype in mind. We didn’t want that. We wanted to create a timeless slice shop.”
CERES
164 Mott St,
Manhattan, NY 10013