The best pizza in America, from thin-crust to deep-dish

At Di Fara, the dough is made fresh several times a day and the Neapolitan pies—cracker-thin crust with a pleasing char and a subtle Parmesan zing—are painstakingly crafted. The signature pie is an exquisite blend of bright plum-tomato sauce, puddles of rich buffalo mozzarella, zesty sausage, peppers and onions, all topped with drizzled olive oil from a copper pot and snipped basil leaves. The hike for many of us to this no-frills Midwood spot will take a while. But trust us—one bite is worth the wait.

Pizza lovers on a New Haven, Connecticut, pilgrimage might find it tough to decipher which Frank Pepe is truly the original. Lines form for the main location at 157 Wooster Street (the “new” Pepe's, since 1937), but less so for the Spot, just down the block at No. 163, which is only open Fridays through Sundays—though the latter is the first location, in business since 1925. Don’t fret: Both use a coal-fired oven with a healthy patina of char, and both turn out excellent thin-crust pizzas that are unabashedly blackened and usually too big for whatever table you've managed to score. Pepe’s is justifiably famous for its bright-tasting original tomato pie and the white clam pizza with a generous helping of quahog clam meat—either one will haunt your future pizza fantasies.

Who would’ve suspected that a pioneer of the artisan pizza movement would come out of Phoenix? Yet that’s exactly what Pizzeria Bianco’s Chris Bianco became when he opened his first location in the back of a grocery store in 1988. Bianco went on to win a James Beard award in 2003, which is no surprise to anyone who’s tasted his yeasty, charred pies (the Wiseguy, with roasted onions, house-smoked mozzarella and fennel sausage, is a favorite). He’s since expanded to multiple spots in Arizona, a Los Angeles location, and plans to open a restaurant in Napa Valley soon. Also in the Bianco portfolio is Pane Bianco, where brother Marco (who makes the pizza dough) turns out wood-fired bread and other Italian specialties.

When cult pasta destination Flour + Water opened in San Francisco in 2009, it ushered in a new wave of dining focused on seasonal, creative dishes served in an approachable way. So it's no surprise that when Flour + Water's spinoff pizzeria opened this past year, it quickly became another local institution. Situated in North Beach, San Francisco's Little Italy, Flour + Water Pizzeria is a standout newcomer in a neighborhood with excellent options to grab a slice. Classic pies like pepperoni sit alongside non-traditional options, like delicata squash paired with arugula, salsa macha and Calabrian chili. The Hawaiian is another top choice, featuring thinly sliced pineapple, capicola and chili crisp. To perfect the meal, make sure to start with the mozz sticks and end with the gelato soft serve. 

When it first opened, Pizzeria Beddia was only counter service, required long lines and only made 40 pizzas per night. There was no phone, bathroom or seating, and orders were capped at two pies per party—cash only. After it was named “best pizza in America" in Bon Appetit’s, owner Joe Beddia expanded into a restaurant with proper seating, natural wine on tap, and side plates to pair with the pizza. The space may have changed, but the pies remain just as delicious—audibly crisp on the bottom and soft on top, fired in a 600-degree gas oven for 10 minutes. The final touch—based on a technique he learned from pizza master Dom DeMarco in Brooklyn—is generous shavings of aged Old Gold cheese and a drizzle of olive oil.

Husband-and-wife team Brian Spangler and Kim Nyland originally ran a bakery in Scholls, Oregon, making pizzas for family and friends on their days off. In 2005, they opened Apizza Scholls on SE Hawthorne; the couple chose the name after connoisseurs compared their blistered-outside, soft-inside crust to those made in New Haven’s many “Apizza”-monikered parlors. To some pizza snobs’ surprise, these results are achieved in an electric oven. Nearly 20 years after opening, the pies are still hard to get your hands on. The restaurant is open daily until sold out, so get there early. But the pies, topped with local ingredients like Olympia Provisions salumi, Jacobsen sea salt and house-cured bacon, are worth it.

Pequod’s is firmly a neighborhood bar with exposed brick and plasma-screen TVs. But Pequod’s is a bar serving some of the city's best pizza. The Chicago institution serves a pan-style deep dish, ringed with caramelized cheese. Be prepared: slices are massive—one piece makes a meal. Add veggies to lighten it up a bit, or go all in with the sausage pie, dotted with perfectly spiced, Ping-Pong ball–sized pieces of seasoned ground pork.

Opened in 2008 in Brooklyn, ramshackle pizzeria Roberta’s debuted without gas or a liquor license, just an oven and two hot plates, drawing post-shift chefs and hipsters for creative pies such as the Bee Sting, a salty-sweet blend of oven-crisped sopressata, crushed tomatoes, punchy chili and a few sticky swirls of honey that masterfully cut the spice of the salami. Its popularity quickly soared among locals, visitors and even celebs—today, they have locations across Brooklyn, outposts in L.A. and is soon opening in Miami. A DIY ethos pervades the original Brooklyn spot, though, with plates incorporating pickings from the backyard garden and a food-centric radio station. 

Inside this sparse Pico Boulevard pizzeria with limited seating, husband-and-wife duo William Joo and Jennifer So have one larger, quite lofty goal in mind: making the best pizza in Los Angeles. According to Joo, a veteran of Ronan and Pizzana, among others, a Tokyo-style Neapolitan is the only best-in-town contender there is: a circle of thin, blistered dough with highly pinched crusts, which results in an almost mochi-like consistency. The final product is simple, delicious and light. While on the pricier side, Pizzeria Sei’s pies typically sell out early—reflecting the fact that Angelenos will often pay for quality when they see it.

Tom Douglas’s yeasty, airy crust, blistered in an apple-wood–fueled oven, proves once again that bakers make the best pizzaioli. Combine that with thoughtful toppings like house-roasted vegetables, top-quality charcuterie or local clams, all finished liberally with olive oil, and you have some seriously craveable pizzas. Serious Pie is now available at three locations throughout town. Since these pies don’t leave you stuffed, you’ll have room to enjoy the excellent veggie starters, artful desserts and superb drink list, too.

Old Greg’s was born out of the pandemic when chef Greg Tetzner and PR pro Jackie Richie started selling pizzas out of their house made from a much-loved sourdough starter they named Old Greg. That transitioned first to a takeout pizza phenomenon in a shuttered Design District bar and then, finally, to its own brick-and-mortar shop.

Ordering here can still feel a bit chaotic. But, along with an expanded menu of salads and binge-worthy hoagies, Tetzner is still slinging the handsome, grandma-style pies that first blew up Instagram during lockdowns. These things are absolutely crammed with toppings like zucchini and burrata, lamb sausage with tahini and the O.G. Roni with hot honey and a whole lot of curled-up pepperoni cups.

Not many great American pizzerias feature pies topped with soy-glazed Niman Ranch short ribs or kimchi and Korean sausage. Pizzeria Lola, opened in 2010 by Korean transplant chef Ann Kim, may be iconoclastic in some ways—including the cheeky decor, featuring a wall of exposures from the in-house photo booth—but Kim knows when to keep things classic. The New York–style crust, fired in a hulking copper wood-fired oven at the dining room’s center, is chewy and char-free, and most pie toppings stay within the Mediterranean wheelhouse. James Beard award-winning Kim also has a slice joint, Hello Pizza, in Edina, plus two other restaurants in town.

Owner Tony Gemignani is an iconic figure in the San Francisco culinary scene. After becoming the first American and non-Neapolitan to win the World Pizza Cup in Naples in 2007, he opened his own pizza joint two years later in SF's North Beach neighborhood, the city's Little Italy. For the last 15 years, lines have formed along Stockton Street to get a taste of Tony's pies, baked in the same Cirigliano Wood Burning oven he used to make his award-winning pizza Margherita. Today, the restaurant offers a selection of Neapolitan, classic American, classic Italian, Sicilian, New York, and Detroit styles, with gluten-free options as well. You can't go wrong with your order—but our favorite is the coal-fired Gotham pizza with avorio mozzarella, hand-crushed tomato sauce, thick & thin cup-n-char pepperoni, roasted peppers, Italian sausage, bacon, agave, garlic and basil.

Century-old East Boston legend Santarpio’s serves the best crisp-based cheese pizza in town with a side of nonpareil people-watching. Knock it off with the schmancy craft beers and order a Bud Light already: the atmosphere demands it, and besides, you get carded no matter what. Just remember to hit the ATM beforehand since the place is cash only. 

Pizza nerds can tell you that Detroit has a style all its own, and it started in 1946 at Buddy’s. Though the square slices are Sicilian-inspired, the industrial-weight steel pan that creates the well-done, almost fried-on-the-bottom crust sets them apart; rumor has it Buddy’s founder Gus Guerra acquired his first pans from a factory-worker pal. Buddy’s has since passed through several owners and become a local chain, but the original on Conant Street is still credited with serving the best Motor City–style pies, layered with toppings, cheese and then tomato sauce—a recipe that's been pleasing diners for 69 years.

Giovanni di Palma set the standard for Neapolitan pies in Atlanta when he opened Antico Pizza Napoletana in 2009. Patrons still queue down the block to order at the counter and squeeze into communal seating at this cramped joint, a testament to its fine pies, which are tangy, chewy and charred from their two minutes in the wood-fired oven. Di Palma has been carrying on a one-man campaign to create Atlanta’s own Piazza San Gennaro (a sort of Little Italy in Westside) by following up Antico with a chicken restaurant, gelateria, Italian grocer and a bar; a second Antico opened in the suburb of Alpharetta.

Tossing and saucing pies since 1946, Ashburn shop Vito and Nick’s is the king of tavern-style 'za. The crispy, cracker-thin crust, tangy sauce and top-quality sausage separate this pizza from its peers. The cash-only joint doesn't do delivery (a promise co-founder Nick Barracao made back in '65), so pick up the phone and call in your carryout order or plan a visit to the no-frills dining room—a pitcher of beer and an order of cheese sticks will tide you over while you wait for the main event.

The Napoli-made wood-fired oven cooks Settebello’s pizzas in less than a minute. San Marzano tomatoes, mozzarella, flour and more are also imported from the motherland, for the truest charred-crust, floppy-in-the-middle Neapolitan facsimile in Vegas. Bright flavor combinations include the Margherita DOC (buffalo mozz, cherry tomatoes, fresh basil and extra-virgin olive oil) and the Carbonara (crushed tomatoes, mozzarella, egg, pancetta, cracked pepper and extra-virgin olive oil). Settebello’s original location in Henderson used to draw diners from all over the valley; since opening in 2005, the restaurant has expanded to Village Square in Vegas proper and several locations in California and Utah.

Any Albuquerque restaurant worth a line out the door has to offer green chilies, and Farina is no exception—the spicy local obsession is available as an optional add-on to any of the restaurant’s pizzas. They’re particularly welcome on the Salsiccia, with tomato sauce, sweet fennel sausage, roasted onion, mozzarella and provolone or the Formaggio di Capra, with goat cheese, pancetta, leeks and scallions. The owners trained with Brian Spangler of Apizza Scholls in Portland before opening in 2008; their thin-crust pies get their signature char from a two-minute stint in an 800-degree oven.