

Mountain Mike’s Pizza has been making Pizza the Way It Oughta Be for over 45 years, with fresh dough made daily, 100% whole milk mozzarella cheese, and a mountain of toppings that go all the way to the edge of every slice. We offer a place the whole family can gather together, with sports playing on the large-screen tv’s and a fun zone with arcade games for the kids, as well as delivery and carryout options so you can enjoy our specialty pizzas and more from the comfort of your own home. Plus, our Weekday All-You-Can-Eat Lunch Buffet offers endless options for everyone at one low price. Download the Mountain Rewards Mobile App to earn points towards rewards, enjoy personalized offers, exclusive perks and get $5 off your first order!
Casual pizza chain featuring traditional pies, gluten-free crust & assorted appetizers.
Hours
| Friday | 10 AM–10 PM |
| Saturday | 10 AM–10 PM |
| Sunday | 10 AM–9:30 PM |
| Monday | 10 AM–9:30 PM |
| Tuesday | 10 AM–9:30 PM |
| Wednesday | 10 AM–9:30 PM |
| Thursday | 10 AM–9:30 PM |
Address and Contact Information
Address: 7319 Milliken Ave, Rancho Cucamonga, CA 91730
Phone: (909) 466-8011
Website: https://www.mountainmikespizza.com/locations/rancho-cucamonga-milliken/
Menu Photos
Order and Reservations
Order: Order online
Photo Gallery
Related Web Results
Pizza Delivery & Pickup in Rancho Cucamonga, CA
Find The Closest Mountain Mikes Pizza Location Near Me
Mountain Mike’s Pizza – Delivery, Carryout, Online Ordering
Reviews
Now listen, I’m not one of those New Yorkers who worships at the altar of the “fold it in half and call it a religion” pizza slice. In fact, I’ve got some beef with NYC pizza. That said… this place? This place made me miss it.
My sister, bless her heart, suggested we try this spot because it was “close to the house.” Red flag number one.
We walked in on a Friday night—prime pizza time—and the place was emptier than a Times Square subway car at 3 a.m. Red flag number two. But hey, we were hungry and optimistic. Big mistake.
The pizza came out and… wow. I’ve had better crust structure from a wet paper towel. The cheese was doing this weird clumpy thing like it hadn’t emotionally committed to being melted. The whole slice drooped like it just got bad news. Honestly? We should’ve marched across the street to Ralph’s, picked up a Red Baron frozen pie, and had a more romantic evening with the oven.
And then came the bill—$130. ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY DOLLARS—for one sad extra-large and two baby pizzas with the charisma of cafeteria food. At those prices, I want my toppings hand-carved by Michelangelo and the crust blessed by the Pope.
This pizza? It’s not just bad—it’s Chuck E. Cheese meets gas station heat lamp, with a splash of “I gave up halfway through.”
So unless you’re into paying fine-dining prices for limp sadness on a plate, skip this joint. Your taste buds (and wallet) will thank you.