The best pizza places in America

Finding the best pizza spots in America yielded some unexpected results. We surprised ourselves by repping a shop in New York that only opened after the Nets moved back to Brooklyn and got deep enough into Chicago lore to be able to wax poetic on three different subgenres of deep dish. We familiarized ourselves with pizza scenes in overlooked parts of the country, like Montana, and confronted the reality that places like Philly are simply worthy of two picks. Yes, below you’ll find legendary spots still making textbook Sicilian slices at a supernaturally high level, but also insurgents smashing the rules of pizza orthodoxy. But the common thread is that these are places we’d confidently send anyone interested in separating the pretty good pizzas of the world from the truly exceptional ones.

THE PIZZA

Chrissy’s Pizza

It’s remarkable that Chrissy’s, which began as a pandemic pop-up inside some guy’s apartment, is now the place where you can find the best pizza in New York. They serve shamelessly saucy New York-style pizza, the kind that’s sturdy but also floppy enough that you can fold it up and walk down the street eating it a la John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. This version features a crust so light and shattering that we’d happily eat the leftovers off a crust-hater’s plate. Their plain pies are perfect, but keep an eye on their Instagram for specials like a vodka pie, or a french onion number we still haven’t managed to get our hands on. They don’t do slices, which essentially forces you to bring friends and have a pizza picnic on the sidewalk. Things could be worse.

L&B Spumoni Gardens

The goalpost is always moving when it comes to who counts as a “real” New Yorker. Some say it’s after five years, while others say 10, though we’ll loudly tell anyone that driving down to L&B is the NYC rite of passage that matters. This place has been around since 1938, and the recipe for its sauce is so to-die-for that it’s literally the subject of a murder mystery. Getting a round slice here is a rookie mistake—their signature sauce-on-top square, with a mochi-like texture, is the sole acceptable move. Yes, there’s a second location near the Brooklyn Bridge, but the character of the original location arguably adds more flavor to the L&B experience than oregano does.

Pizz’Amici

Pizza is a heated topic in Chicago—family feuds have been started over differing opinions on deep dish vs. tavern-style. And while we certainly respect the former, our favorite pizza in the Windy City comes from a relative newcomer that raises the bar for all the tavern-style pizza that came before it. The crust at Pizz’Amici is impressively thin and crackery, with a structural integrity that should get shout-outs in PBS specials about local architecture, while the bottom of each pie is a Dalmatian-spotted, charred beauty.

Milly’s Pizza In The Pan

For those not well-versed in deep dish lore, Chicago actually has three types: original, stuffed, and pan-style—and Milly’s in West Town is a pan-style-slinging master making the best deep dish in town. Their thick-crusted stunners have a focaccia-esque dough, zesty tomato sauce, and their signature: a perimeter of caramelized cheese that’s probably responsible for Chicago’s increasing census numbers. While you can build your own pizza, they also have incredible curated combinations, like the Tom’s Killing with vodka sauce, pepperoni, everything bagel spice, and chili crunch.

Angelo’s Pizzeria

If we played a word association game, and someone said “Philly pizza,” Angelo’s is the first place to pop into our heads. The cash-only classic, also known for its stellar cheesesteak, makes thick, square pies that smother layers of cheese beneath tomato sauce. Our favorite pizza here is actually the margherita, which is as timeless as an Eagles Kelly Green jersey. Each bite of this simple, classic pizza is filled with sweet tomato basil sauce, chewy crusts with a perfect char, and the creamiest fior di latte we’ve ever had.

Pizzeria Beddia

There are pizza places you date and pizza places you marry—and the first time you eat at Pizzeria Beddia, it’s natural to wonder if it might be The One. We go bonkers over their thin-crusted pies that bend and crisp when you pick them up, and while the most popular order there is probably a plain cheese pie with no toppings, we suggest you live a little and get the No. 2, which is topped with Calabrian cream, mozzarella, and Old Gold gouda. It sort of tastes like a gooey mac and cheese on top of expertly baked dough.

Loui’s Pizza

Few places capture the old-school charm of Detroit pizza culture quite like Loui’s. This legendary spot from the 1970s makes life-affirming Detroit-style square pies with a textbook-thick crust, and a gravitational pull of an early bedtime, yet impossibly airy under a crown of caramelized cheese. While Detroit’s pizza scene continues to evolve, Loui’s is essential because it’s gloriously untouched by trends (see: their wood-paneled dining den, and a decade’s worth of chianti bottles signed by customers dangling from the ceiling like fossils). The ideal order is a square with sausage and mushrooms, and a pitcher of beer—it’s a meal that’ll remind you why Detroit pizza is iconic in the first place.

Frank Pepe Pizzeria Napoletana

They did apizza first, and they’re still doing it the best. Founded in 1925, this Wooster Street spot consistently creates pies that are the golden standard of a New Haven’s style. The crust is thin, chewy, and doesn’t flop when you hold up a slice. Their pies have an extremely charred (but never burnt) bottom that adds a subtle smokiness. And there’s just a teensy sprinkling of pecorino romano. Pepe’s invented the slightly sweet original tomato pie and the salty, garlicky white clam pie, and all it takes is a bite of either to understand why there’s always a line down the block. Simplicity is what makes their apizza so good, and everyone else in New Haven is just trying to match their quality.

Pizzeria Bianco Downtown

The wood-fired pies at Pizzeria Bianco not only launched Phoenix’s food scene into the orbit of national conversation but started a national pizza revival. The dough is seriously flavorful on its own, having been fermented for 18-20 hours, giving it a delicious yeasty tang. But it’s the stunning, photogenic, and pistachio-topped Rosa pie that we want to ask for an autograph. Like any celebrity of a certain stature, she’s now based partially in LA, but the original location of Bianco is still the one we go to bat for.

June’s Pizza

The pies at June’s are the best you can get in Oakland, or really the entire East Bay. The sourdough pizzas here are approximately the size of a car wheel, showered in a freshly grated parmesan snowfall, and have a crust that’s reached optimal levels of chew and char. There are only two pizzas on the menu at any given time—order one of each and spend the next hour or so admiring the dough-stretching going on behind the bar and licking cheese off your fingers.

Pizzeria Sei

The original Pizzeria Sei (now called Sei Pizza Bar) is famous for introducing Tokyo-influenced Neapolitan pies to LA. These are pizzas that use a special crimping technique on the crust, which is exceedingly nerdy, though you don’t need to be a connoisseur of global pizza styles to appreciate their technically perfect margherita with chewy-soft blistered edges, just-sweet tomato sauce, and gooey pools of buffalo mozzarella. Now, at their expanded second location, you’ll find the same incredible pies they built their name on, plus creative twists like a fried pizza with Sichuan lamb, or one topped with confit tuna and salsa verde.

Kinchley’s Tavern

New York has New York-style pizza, Chicago has deep dish, and New Jersey has the bar pie. There’s no better place to eat it than at Kinchley’s Tavern, which has been open since 1937 and is always packed full of families who come here every Friday night and know every server by name. Like any good bar pie, the red sauce creeps right to the edges of the crackery crust, and the cheese is dimpled and bubbly. The crust is appropriately thin, but these aren’t purist’s pies, and toppings are what pushes these pies into greatness territory. We’ve been known to swap the tomato sauce for vodka, top our pizza with thick slices of meatball, or get a pie called the Kinchley’s Kreamed Spinach.

Fratesi’s Pizza

Place Fratesi’s plain pie on a record player and as soon as the needle touches the cheese, you’ll hear it sing, There’s no other pizza in Miami like me. And that’s a fact. It’s similar to a Chicago tavern-style but cartoonishly thin, like it was pulled directly from a Cartoon Network show. And the cheese is spread to the outer edges, a crust-hater’s paradise of a pizza. This place is clearly inspired by New Jersey, from the red leather booths down to the bar pies. But the creative toppings are what take it from a typical spot you might find in the tri-state area to something truly exceptional. If you like spice, consider getting the Demon Pig Boy with cupped pepperoni and pickled hot peppers. The Demon Pig Girl—its less spicy sibling topped with sausage and banana peppers—is also outstanding (you can do half-and-half toppings, too).

Zaffiro’s Pizza & Bar

Wisconsin has its own brand of tavern-style pizza, which likely made its way from its neighbors to the south. These round-shaped pies are similarly cut into rectangles and have a cracker-thin, crisp, and light crust. The best version comes from this family-owned pizzeria in Milwaukee that’s been in business since 1954, when two brothers named Bobby and John opened its doors. Their father emigrated from Sicily, and the same recipe for dough and sauce is still used today. The crust is as thin as a frisbee and has just enough structure to be crunchy and hold simple but well-done pepperoni and sausage toppings.

Fidela

There’s a bonafide pizza movement happening in San Juan, and a lot of that has to do with Fidela. We stand behind this sit-down pizzeria as being one of the best in the country, with leopard-spotted Neapolitan pies that feature the style’s characteristically puffy crusts while using the best of the island’s produce. All of the pizzas are excellent, but the honey pepperoni that you’ll spot on nearly every table is the one you need to order. Yes, honey-covered pies are all over the mainland these days, but this is the one that reaches Neapolitan perfection.

Allday Pizza

Allday is home to the best New York-style pizza in Austin right now. The pies have a slightly charred (but still chewy) crust and excellent tangy sauce. We love the stracciatella that comes topped with a few dollops of the sweet and creamy cheese, plus a drizzle of olive oil and fresh basil to brighten it all up. But our favorite topping combo is probably the Pep & Pepp, which pairs a double layer of tiny pepperonis with another layer of diced pepperoncini that blends spice, acidity, and brightness in each bite. They also do a pizza sampler that combines six slices on the same tray to make a colorful wheel of cheese, carbs, and sauce.

A.K. Pizza

Seattle’s been in the middle of a pizza renaissance for a few years now, but we’ll shout it from the rooftops until we need to pop a lozenge: A.K. serves the best in town. The crust gives credence to their “Welcome To The Dough Show” sign above the counter—it’s got a dry, charred crunch, but the way it rips unearths cotton candy-like fluff with a light chew. Toppings are just as stellar, like smoky scamorza and sweet vodka sauce deepened by caramelized sofrito, or a simple-but-effective plain pie that zaps us to a Manhattan street corner upon closed eyes. (Minus the humidity or sidewalk trash bag stacks.)

Biga Pizza

This pizzeria’s namesake “biga” is a technique as much as an ingredient. A bit of yesterday’s dough is added to a new batch, and the residual yeast ferments the dough, breaking down complex sugars and strengthening gluten networks. It creates a sweet, chewy crust with a golden, crunchy crumb. On the meatball verde, that crust is strong enough to maintain its integrity beneath a cilantro slurry that packs a zing so shocking it might make you exclaim out loud.

Wayfarer Tavern

Pizza styles can feel like religions, with sacred ingredients, true believers, and rules that can’t be broken. Wayfarer Tavern is one of the proudly unorthodox restaurants that’s shifting pizza’s center of gravity away from the coasts. The house style is a collage of influences—thin-crust and square-cut, like Chicago tavern-style, with pan-crisped edges that pay tribute to New England and Detroit. The restaurant’s willingness to borrow widely continues with the toppings, which draw on the flavors of Midwestern party dips (pickles, potato chips, and ranch) and Korean corn cheese. All the remixing could feel wacky if the combinations didn’t work so well, making this creative pizza parlor an instant Cincinnati-area classic.

Outta Sight Pizza

Outta Sight in SF nails every element necessary to a perfect New York-ish slice. There’s a chewy yet crispy crust that’s foldable without getting soggy. Toppings like smoky pepperoni cups or slightly sweet vodka sauce paired with globs of gooey mozzarella bring the flavor. And a satisfying, bright orange grease drips out of the creases. For an extra dollar, a slice gets “fully dressed,” which translates to zig-zags of pickled pepper honey, olive oil, and ranch, plus fresh basil and grated dry jack. The blend of salty, sweet, and kind of spicy flavors will make you wonder why this condiment isn’t as standard as red pepper flakes.

St. Vito Focacceria

Nashville-style pizza is not a thing, but the most interesting stuff in town is St. Vito’s sourdough Sicilian-style sfincione, covered in toppings like cheesy potato fonduta and an army of crispy pepperoni. When we first tried this pizza, we spent a good amount of time Googling different cloud terminology to accurately describe it. We’ve settled on a combo between “stratus” and “cumulus,” because this dough is about as airy and puffy as it can get. At its core, it’s a focaccia pizza hybrid that’s soft on the inside and crispy on the outside. There’s an absurd level of gluten development in these pies, and one slice stands as tall as a physical copy of this year’s Merriam-Webster dictionary.

2 Amys

Aside from the late-night jumbo slice joints, too many DC pizzerias lean on gimmicky menus—pizza and champagne!—or fussy, overly-complicated ingredients. 2 Amys never played that game. Instead, it focused on the basics, and became one of the first places in the District to be certified by the organization in Naples that decides whether pizza is legit or not. Twenty-something years in, these steaming pies crowned with mozzarella di bufala, San Marzano tomatoes, plenty of parsley, unapologetic heaps of anchovies, and swirls of top-notch olive oil make it clear this place isn’t playing, period.

Lovely’s Fifty Fifty

Portland doesn’t have a history of strong pizza traditions, which means you’ll never be subjected to a Chicago deep dish vs. NYC slice debate (though everybody here loves eating pizza with ranch). If anything could represent Portland-style pizza, though, it’d be Lovely’s Fifty Fifty. Expect a tangy sourdough crust, no sauce, and seasonal toppings like cherry tomato confit, summer squash, and orange-infused olive oil. Don’t be surprised if you see a rainbow of edible flowers sprinkled on top, which is prettier than sliced basil anyways.

St. Pizza

Thin-crust, East Coast-style pizza is done surprisingly well throughout New Orleans, but St. Pizza’s sourdough crust was a gamechanger when it came onto the scene in 2024. That crust— light, tangy, and earthy with a crispy underside—is topped with a rich and slightly sweet sauce that’s coursing with basil. The pepperoni pie with thick-cut, charred rounds and the green pie with puffs of ricotta are standouts, but the simple house plain is the one to order if you want to understand the genius at play here.

Union Loafers

St. Louis-style pizza—cracker-thin crust, square-cut slices, Provel cheese—is the kind of thing you get delivered and eat at home watching the Cardinals. Union Loafers, the best bakery in St. Louis, is what you leave the house for. Their crust is a New York-Neapolitan hybrid, pillowy and crunchy at the same time. Though the menu spans from the familiar to adventurous, a spinach pizza is the best way to understand what’s great about this place. It comes loaded with thick bacon lardons and pops of lemon and garlic to cut the fat, while the mushroom, pickled shallot, and funky washed-rind cheese pizza is a wilder ride. Dipping the crust in their buttermilk dressing is a requirement.

Partenope Ristorante

In Dallas—a city with lots of great pizza—Partenope sets the standard for Neapolitan pies. That’s not just our opinion: This place made Italy’s own top pizza ranking, which is arguably way more impressive than winning gold in whatever steeplechase is. The move is to always get the medal-winning Montanara, which is a riff on the classic margherita featuring a chewy, airy crust that’s flash-fried and then baked, giving it an almost popcorn-like quality without veering into gimmicky State Fair territory.

Red Wagon Pizza Company

If pizza crust had terroir, Red Wagon Pizza Company’s chewy, slightly nutty crust would exemplify Minneapolis’s sense of place. The restaurant sources its flour locally—and no more than three days before it’s turned into dough. Both globe-spanning influence and meticulous attention to detail are on display here. Fig balsamic is carefully drizzled on Red Wagon’s namesake pizza in a careful spiral, tempering the salty richness of the soppressata and sausage. And on the bánh mì pizza, a technicolor arrangement of pickled carrots, radishes, and jalapeño lovingly channels the sandwich it’s inspired by.