They did it 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 apizza: a crust that’s thin, chewy, and doesn’t flop when you hold up a slice; an extremely charred (but never burnt) bottom that adds a subtle smokiness; and just a teensy sprinkling of pecorino romano. Simplicity is what makes their apizza so good, and everyone else in New Haven is just trying to match their quality.

In LA, we’re skeptical of Detroit-style pizza. These pan pies have pummeled the city, and it’s tough to tell which shops are doing the style justice and which ones are just cashing in. Quarter Sheets falls into the first camp. This shop is full-on '90s birthday party nostalgia, but with even better pizza. Their inch-high, focaccia-like crusts crackle and snap like that one cereal that has elven brothers as mascots. Inside, a pillowy middle soaks up sweet red sauce that’s striped across the top.

When people in South Jersey dream of moving to “the city,” they usually mean Philly and not Trenton. And the sheer number of transplants has led to some pizza crosspollination. Trenton-style pizza means cheese is laid directly on top of the dough before being covered in sauce—and CJ & D’s pizzeria in Philly is the place to get it. The crust here is a thin and crunchy, no-flop situation, and holds up even under the creamy mozzarella, tangy crushed tomato sauce, and juicy pepperoni cups.

Pizza can become a heated topic in Chicago. Our favorite pizza in the Windy City comes from a relative newcomer that raises the bar of 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 spotted, charred beauty.

Razza is to Jersey City what The Eiffel Tower is to Paris or Britney Spears is to Kentwood, Louisiana. They’re iconic, and for good reason. The puffy, blistered crust is light enough that one person can easily finish a whole pie, and it’s salty and sweet enough that you’ll order another long after you’re full. And then there are the toppings, like mozzarella made from Jersey water buffaloes, specially-bred hazelnuts, and produce that proves “The Garden State” slogan isn’t sarcasm.

For the longest time, people (mostly from a state with the word “New” in it) could rightfully talk down on Miami’s pizza scene. Then Miami Slice came into our lives, with a New York-style pizza so good, we’d slap any naysayers across the face to initiate a pizza duel. The slices at this tiny shop are crispy from corner to corner, perfectly ratioed with incredible toppings, and one of the very few foods we’ll cheerfully wait three hours in the sun to consume.

The pies at Union Loafers are the lovechild of Neapolitan-leaning and New York styles, with a crust that’s toothsome but pillowy inside. Most of the pies at this St. Louis spot come with a sweet, Calabrian chile-tinged sauce that brings so much freshness to their rich mozzarella and dynamic topping combos. The mushroom pie is bountiful with shrooms, pickled shallots, and fragrant fox glove, while the pepperoni pizza gains complexity from herbs and chiles.

Al Forno has been a stalwart of Providence’s restaurant scene since the '80s, but its signature pizza is what takes this place from reliable to mindblowing. These are the only pies in the country that are grilled over maple charcoal, and the result of this unique method is a crisp wafer-thin crust crisp with zebra stripes instead of leopard spots. Of particular note is the mortadella pie, which has clouds of ricotta, crepe-y piles of mortadella, pieces of pistachios, and a crack of black pepper.

Barbecue gets all the attention in Austin, but you'll also see lines spilling into the parking lot at this modest pizzeria and natural wine spot that makes the city’s best pies. Bufalina’s Neapolitan-style pizza comes with classic and unconventional toppings alike, our favorite being the spicy red pie with double garlic, double parmesan, and chili flakes. Whichever one(s) you choose, the crust will be bubbly and the flavors will be “give me another slice right away.”

New York is the pizza capital of the world, and this is the city’s signature pizza style in its apex predator form. L’Industrie’s naturally leavened and long-fermented crust somehow stays puffy on the outside with a crunchy undercarriage. The sauce is bright and a little sweet. Meats and olive oil taste classy and not from America—and everything gets covered with giant basil leaves and freshly shaved parm.