“Portland-style pizza” is hard to define, but you’ll know it when you see the menu at Lovely’s Fifty Fifty. This supremely local style takes the form of chewy whole-grain sourdough crust, Oregon produce, wild fungi, and foraged flowers. The 12-inch pies served here are incredibly seasonal, but expect a garden’s worth of ingredients sprinkled on top that goes beyond basil, including summer chanterelles, hand-picked sorrel, and cruciferous spigarello from area purveyors.

Apizza Scholls was a pioneer of Neopolitan(ish) pies in Portland when it burst onto the scene two decades ago, and it still draws in fans who line up on Hawthorne before the doors open. That’s because they take the best of wood-fired Neapolitan-style pizza—thin, charred crust, and all—and supersize it. These pies are more American in taste, big as hubcaps with lots of toppings. You can order half-and-half pizzas to try more styles.

Cully’s Pizza Jerk captures the nostalgic pizza parlor vibe, with long tables covered by red-and-white-checked tablecloths and stained glass lamps hanging from the tin ceiling—all that’s missing is a tabletop Ms. Pac-Man game. Even the deep-dish pan pizzas conjure up a bygone era, though we prefer the simple perfection of the lighter 18-inch, thin-crust pies adorned with nothing more than pepperoni cups and a shake of parmesan.

Dimo’s on Lower Burnside are cracker-thin-crust specialists and the spot for New Haven-style pizzas, minus the traditional coal oven. These pies get briefly blasted in a prominent wood-fired oven covered in penny tiles, producing extra crispy pies with aggressively charred crusts. Take a seat at one of the covered picnic tables outside and savor the standout cacio e pepe pizza, rich and creamy with a mascarpone base, topped with shaved zucchini, tomato confit, and cracked black pepper.

We love this all-day cafe in Northeast Portland for its ricotta toast and savory porridge. But we'll never say no to posting up under the high beamed ceilings for the stellar lineup of wood-fired pies. Cafe Olli’s crown jewel is the pomodoro pizza, a deceptively simple thin-crust stunner topped with concentrated tomato sauce and nearly translucent shaved garlic. You’re going to want to add the optional hand-pulled stracciatella that’s plopped on each slice.

Pan Con Queso is one of the few joints in town putting Mexican spins on pizza. (Reeva is the other.) The results are flawless creations: chewy, multigrain bases loaded with ingredients like cotija, cilantro, chipotle, and corn. Take the chorizo con papas, with thinly sliced potatoes and spicy ground sausage, drizzled with cilantro crema—it’s a more substantial take on a breakfast taco. Since this place is barely bigger than a walk-in closet, we like to settle into a picnic table outside.

Ken’s Artisan is the old guard in Portland’s short pizza history. And while every aspiring pizzaiolo now vibes with long-fermented dough, hand-pulled mozzarella, and imported tomatoes, this wasn’t the norm when Ken’s opened their rustic wood-fired operation in Kerns nearly two decades ago. The corner restaurant maintains its casual neighborhood feel, despite hungry visitors killing time outside until it’s their turn to try these world-class pies.

Meta Pizza is Portland’s answer to the NYC slice shop (coincidentally, it’s located in the Brooklyn neighborhood). It’s primarily a takeout operation crafting excellent sourdough slices that are equal parts chewy and crispy. Because it’s Portland, though, you’re not limited to pepperoni or plain. Instead, you’ll find non-traditional options like the Five Cheese, with smoked gouda and a wonderfully creamy, mild fontal, finished with green onion slivers and poppy seeds for flavor and texture.

This scrappy, counter-service restaurant in Vernon adheres to the high-quality ingredients and seasonal produce approach to pizza, minus the sourdough crust that’s become de rigueur in Portland. What comes out of the wood-fired oven at the center of the industrial space are thin-crust pies that are light, with toppings like house-made green garlic sausage and marigold greens that don’t over-dominate. We especially love how No Saint isn’t afraid of distinctive cheeses like taleggio and gruyere.

Pizza Thief is co-owned by a serious baker, so it’s no surprise that this Slabtown spot is doing justice to the crust. It’s made from naturally leavened sourdough that’s both crisp and tangy. Notably, the pizzas are sold in a whole 18-inch form and by the slice from the enclosed counter display. We like the atypical combination of the Valley Girl’s green olives, broccolini, and pungent aged provolone contrasted with the herby pesto cream base.

The wood-fired pizzas at this standalone Roseway cart tends to fly under the radar and would get more attention in more a sceney neighborhood. Give it the attention it deserves by heading out to Sandy Blvd for their signature pizzaleada, a fun, hybrid take on Honduran baleadas with refried beans, cheese, and crema. It’s an unexpected pizza that’s both creamy and more comforting than a jojo dipped in ranch.

Pizza-by-the-slice isn’t the norm in Portland. Baby Doll’s floppy, foldable plain slices to the rescue. They’re as close as you’re going to get to the ones from a typical NYC joint. This Kerns counter-service restaurant, with seating and a full bar, is still pure Portland, though, thanks to a vegan-friendly menu and sides of ranch, the tangy condiment so popular that a local chain proudly named itself Ranch Pizza. If basic slices won’t do, look to the specials (whole pies only).

The compact, cornmeal-heavy pies at Dove Vivi in Kerns don’t hew to any particular pizza style and are more like a Chicago deep dish, tamale pie hybrid. They’re dense, filling, and stellar, so you might have a hard time choosing. The solution is the Chef's Choice selection, which gives you six different slices, including one of the rotating vegan specials that might feature herbed tofu ricotta or marinated green peppers.

Portland's best-known pizza cart is also making one of the best pizzas in town. It's located in the always-busy Hawthorne Cartopia food pod and is turning out wood-fired pies that hit every time. They're lightly charred with a fluffy, chewy crust. We like the simplicity of the margherita, though the mushroom pie with green tufts of arugula piled on top is the move for anyone bored with the usual vegetarian choices.

The people over at Wild Child in the Alberta district are Detroit-style pizza masters who are mixing things up. The sourdough crust is leavened for longer than usual—a full 72 hours—which ups its natural tanginess, and the real-deal Wisconsin brick cheese that caramelizes better than mozzarella is strategically placed directly on the dough with marinara slathered on top.

The best Detroit-style pizzas possess caramelized cheese edges. Boxcar Pizza in the Zipper food hall hits that mark with their vegan rendition. Its proprietary cheese blend, made from vegetable starches and coconut oil (no soy or nuts), melts properly and is shockingly creamy. You can taste it in combos that sound like art projects from a mad scientist, like the Strings of Nashville, topped with vegan Nashville hot chicken nuggets, pickles, and ranch.