Seattle is known for pizza just like it’s known for being the birthplace of John Requa, the screenwriter who wrote Bad Santa. But after conducting very scientific research (a.k.a. eating a lot of pizza around the city), we’re pleased to announce that Seattle does indeed have some excellent pizza—from floppy Neapolitans to Detroit-style pan pies with delicious topping combinations. Get your grater of parmesan ready for these pizza spots. Maybe you’ll see local celebrity John Requa at one of them.
THE SPOTS
The very best pizza in Seattle is, in fact, not in Seattle at all. You have to take a 25-minute ferry across the Puget Sound to get to Via Rosa 11, but we’d gladly make the trip to Bainbridge Island to eat the burrata and speck pie. The pizza from this little Italian market has everything going for it—the dough is crispy, chewy on the ends, and cracker-like in the middle, topped with bundles of smoked prosciutto and dollops of cold burrata that melt on contact with the crust like sun-drunk snowballs. A kick from red pepper flakes, freshness from flash-fried basil and burst cherry tomato, and a drizzle of really good olive oil brings it all together. This is the pizza worth boarding a commercial watercraft.
When you’re looking for the best pizza within Seattle’s city limits, head to Dino’s Tomato Pie and order a Mr. Pink. This square Jersey-style pizza is topped with sweet vodka sauce, fresh mozzarella, ricotta cheese, and basil. The crust is thick and crunchy, and the whole bottom is so charred that it’s almost black in some parts, which (to be clear) is exactly how you want it. For a very happy night, stumble in and order a Mr. Pink with a negroni and a fistful of garlic knots—and let it be known that the thinner, round version of the same pie also hits just right.
The pizzas at Bar Del Corso, the always-packed Beacon Hill restaurant, are so good you might think you were somehow transported to Southern Italy. The Neapolitan pizzas here are thoroughly charred with excellent toppings, our two favorites being the buffalo mozzarella margherita and their white pie with sausage and pickled goathorn peppers. There’s no need to choose between the two, though, just order both.
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if sourdough pies were fired up in a Neapolitan pizza oven, first off, let’s be friends. Second, that’s exactly what Lupo in Fremont is doing. The inferno inside the dome creates those leopard spots we know and love, but with a chewier texture and tang produced by the power of fermentation. If you’re a purist, it’s easy to enjoy their margherita topped with globs of Samish Bay mozzarella, or the cacio e pepe pie with plenty of cracked black pepper and the option to add pancetta. (Please exercise this option.) But if toppings are your thing, Lupo’s are fun and fresh, like burrata with crispy-rimmed sopressata, calabrian chili, and hot honey, or spicy crumbled Italian sausage with smoked scamorza and sliced fennel.
After many months of consuming naturally-leavened pies, Detroit squares, and Neapolitan margheritas, we can definitively say that Blotto is the best slice joint in Seattle. Their crust is a gorgeous cross between sourdough and New York-style, with a brittle crispness throughout the bottom and puffed ends that resemble pool noodles (but taste a whole lot better). It's impossible to pass up their cheese pie, but they'll have slice specials that range from spaghetti all’amatriciana ingredients to roasted kale with breadcrumbs and lemon—not to mention tasty dips like Calabrian chili vinaigrette and dill-flecked ranch.
If someone zapped the round pizzas at Dino’s with a shrink ray, you would get the same pie from Delancey. This is the more formal spot owned by the same team, and while the menu has a lot of hits, you’re here for the sausage pie. It has a subtle note of crunched-up fennel seed that highlights the pork without overpowering it, and when the rendered fat swirls with the mozzarella, it makes us feel like what George Frideric Handel (probably) felt when he finally finished that Hallelujah thing.
Seattle’s Detroit-style pizza boom gained movement about as quickly as scammer documentaries, and now we have access to a tremendous amount of thick, sauce-on-top-of-cheese pan pies. But if you’re curious which rectangle of crispy cheese-skirted dough is the best, it’s My Friend Derek’s. The pizza here is a perfect specimen of light and fluffy cornmeal-dusted crust, rich marinara loaded with nutty toasted garlic, and toppings that just hit right. Our recommended duo is a combo of pepperoni cups and castelvetrano olives that create a smoke-and-brine moment. To secure your pizza, place an online order (for Friday or Saturday), and then pick it up at Derek’s production kitchen on the corner of N 36th and Woodland Park Ave N.
Toppings are great, but it’s just as important to recognize the mightiness of a stupendous cheese pie. That brings us to Good Shape. This mobile pizza operation is at Add-A-Ball every Saturday night, and their small pies covered in char bubbles are both crisp and foldable at the same time—a true achievement in pizza-making. Between the simplicity of their tomato sauce, the fusing of mozzarella, pecorino, and provolone, and hints of chili flake and dried oregano shaken on top, it all works together to become the best cheese pie in Seattle.
This small Italian spot on Capitol Hill succeeds in all matters related to flour, but we're not here to discuss their (excellent) fresh pasta. They also serve pizzas with toppings that lay nearly twice as thick as the charred, crunchy crust. Even still, the sauce, cheese, and other odds and ends don't compromise the integrity of the bottom. Get the white pie with enough sticky fontina to cancel school if it were a layer of snow, or the "Flying Sauser" pizza involving fennel sausage, globs of ricotta (rather than mozz), and red sauce.
Between the cracker-thin crust, sweet tomato sauce with oregano, ideal layer of bubbly cheese, and toppings like custardy ricotta dollops and charred pepperoni cups (our two favorites), the grid-cut tavern pie is the pizza to beat at this West Seattle pizzeria that specializes in Chicago-style pizza. The deep dish is solid, too, but make no mistake—the tavern pie is the one you want.
Alexandra’s Macarons is a bakery in the Central District that predictably serves French macarons. But on Thursday and Friday evenings from 4 to 8pm, their cafe space turns into a pizzeria aptly named “Pizza Queens,” and it’s the best pizza-related secret in town. Their pies have a great bouncy bread-like feel to them, the fresh mozzarella in their margherita swirls with the tomato to make a milky pink sauce, and if you’re a fan of white pizzas, they serve a delicious french onion soup-inspired option slathered in caramelized onion and breadcrumbs. With just a few bistro tables, the occasional live music duet, and a short menu of wine and beer, it makes for an exciting (yet low-key) pizza date you can later brag about to anyone who will listen.
At Dantini, a pop-up pizzeria that operates out of Batch 206 Distillery in Interbay, their pepperoni pie comes with a sweet, caramelized, almost-creamy confit garlic that makes for a good enough excuse on its own to order a stack of pizzas. You could really just harvest the cloves, snack on them, and call it a day. Thankfully, incredible garlic candy aside, everything else about the New York-style pies at Dantini is great, too. The crust has all the sturdiness and chew of sourdough, with a crispy bottom and plenty of crackly dough bubbles. There’s a thin layer of tomato sauce that doesn’t overpower the toasty mounds of fresh mozzarella. And the combination of the smoky cured meat working with those roasted cloves of gold makes the pepperoni pie the best one in the house—though the ricotta cream pizza with lemon and black pepper is a close second.
You’re probably wondering if a box of pizza is worth Moto’s two-month (or longer) waitlist. It’s a fair question with a simple answer: Yes. This tiny house in West Seattle that happens to look like the one from Up does just two things, but executes them extremely well: thick, rectangular Detroit-style pies and flavor-twisted soft serve piped inside cinnamon-dusted Transylvanian pastry cones. You’ll find pizzas here made with a 100-year-old sourdough starter (her name is Betty), and topped with everything from Filipino pork belly, sausage, and calamansi lime sauce to deconstructed clam chowder ingredients. It’s all excellent, down to every last crunch of pepperoni edge and frizzled cheese laced along the crust’s hulking walls.
Whenever we want to eat a personal pizza chased with a tallboy, The Indie always hits the spot. Their incredible pies are thin, blistery, and have flawless cheese-to-sauce ratios. It’s also important to note that they make something that very few places do in Seattle: the clam pie. Their version is salty and velvety, and comes with a lemon wedge that brightens it all up. Sure, every pizza here is wonderful, but make sure you order the clam pie. You can go ahead and cancel that New England vacation afterwards.
Ever since Bar Cotto (our original favorite place for pizza in Seattle) changed owners, we worried that we’d never eat their perfect pies again. Luckily, the same team also opened up Capitol Hill spot Rione XIII. They serve pizzas that remind us of the ones at Bar Cotto, only they’re Roman-style. When you just got dumped or need a solo-pie-and-glass-of-wine-at-the-bar night, you’ll want to come here and order the margherita.
Much like Dunkin Donuts and fracking, super thick Sicilian square pizza isn’t really a thing here—except at Slice Box. It’s a little spot in SoDo where you have to eat in a quiet, carpeted room filled with posters advertising gardening supplies. But when it comes to the pepperoni square, it’s so good we’d even eat it in a closet with the lights turned off. The crust is buttery, the cheese is stretchy, and the pepperoni edges are perfectly burnt (in a good way). They’ll even grate fresh parmesan over the top.
Nobody likes waiting, especially for pizza. But at Windy City Pie, a Chicago deep dish-style spot in Phinney Ridge, the long wait is part of the deal. In exchange for some money and 40 minutes of your time, you get a thick pie with caramelized edges, flavorful red sauce, and mozzarella cheese that flows like volcanic lava. We all know that bacon is great on pizza, but the candied bacon crumbles at Windy City Pie is the kind of topping you’d want on your popcorn at the movies. Skip cake on your birthday and come here instead.
Despite the name of this slice spot, Post Alley Pizza is not located in the market—so don’t go looking for it along the wall of other people’s used gum wads. This spot works really well if you’re downtown and in need of a quick lunch slice you can trust, or you need a few reliable New York-style pies for a birthday party. Be sure to add sides of ranch and homemade calabrian chili buffalo sauce for dunking, and what’s even more exciting is that this place offers granulated garlic to shake on your slice—a necessity that we haven’t been able to find at any other pizza place in town.
There’s no such thing as “Seattle-style” pizza, but if there were, it would be Humble Pie. That’s because the whole space is on a little gravel patch complete with an urban garden and a chicken coop, and the wood-fired pizzas all contain local or homemade ingredients—you’ll probably hear the clucking hen whose egg was cracked onto your arugula pie. Grab a picnic table, can of beer, order the Whole Hog (topped with pulled pork, prosciutto, and bacon), and contemplate buying a Patagonia half-zip.
There’s no time to argue about whether a flatbread “counts” as a pizza when it comes to Single Shot’s margherita with prosciutto—this thing is so good that the debate doesn’t even matter. This spot on Capitol Hill is not an Italian restaurant nor a pizza establishment, but their brittle crust topped with barely-melted fresh mozzarella, crushed san marzanos, torn basil, a sprinkling of chili flake, and cold prosciutto rightfully earns a spot on this guide. Even though Single Shot’s menu is full of things like strip steaks and lamb chops, we’d much rather sit at the bar alone with a cocktail and this satisfying, paper-thin pie that crunches like a cracker topped with creamy cheese and salted pork.
