Portland is one of the most serious pizza cities in America and almost nobody outside the West Coast knows it. The scene in Portland runs on natural-leaven dough, Pacific Northwest farm produce, and a roster of pizzaioli who trained abroad and came home to a pizzeria they could run on their own terms. The city does not chase Naples. It chases whatever the dough and the season are doing that week.
The inflection point is easy to name. In 2005, Brian Spangler and Kim Nyland opened Apizza Scholls on Hawthorne with a long-fermented dough, a wood oven, and a rule of three toppings per pie. Every serious pizzeria that opened after it borrowed something from that template, even if it landed on a slice line or a New Haven coal-feel pie instead.
Best of Portland: the top spots
| Rank | Spot | Style | Why |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Apizza Scholls | Apizza | Hawthorne; The reference point. Long ferments, wood oven, three toppings max. Opened 2005, never changed. |
| 2 | Lovely's Fifty Fifty | Neapolitan | Mississippi; James Beard semifinalist. Menu changes daily based on Oregon harvests. Minimal intervention. |
| 3 | Meta Pizza | NY-Style | Division; Lighter crust than Scholls, deeper into PNW ingredients. Naturally leavened, seasonal toppings. |
| 4 | Scottie's Pizza Parlor | NY-Style | Division; New York slices from a Brooklyn-raised pizzaiolo, open since 2015. |
| 5 | Nostrana | Neapolitan | Buckman; Cathy Whims runs an Italian kitchen. Restrained, well-sauced, built for sit-down dining with wine. |
What makes Portland pizza different?
Two things, mostly. First, the dough. The city skews heavily toward wild-yeast ferments running 24 to 72 hours, with house-milled and regional flour from Camas Country Mill and Bob's Red Mill showing up on bench after bench. Second, the produce. Oregon farms supply chanterelles, padron peppers, stone fruit, and brassicas that land on pies within a day of harvest. The result is a city that does seasonal pizza without it feeling like a stunt.
The other thing worth saying out loud: the Portland scene is not one style. The local crowd argues about NY-Style slices, New Haven apizza, Detroit pan, and wood-fired round pies in the same breath, and the pizzerias doing each of those things are run by pizzaioli who know what they are doing.
The wood-fired and natural-leaven flagships
Apizza Scholls is the reference. Brian Spangler's pizzeria on Hawthorne opened in 2005 and has not changed the formula since: long ferments, a wood oven that runs hot, three toppings maximum, and a crust with audible structure. If you have not eaten here, you have not yet started the Portland conversation.
Sarah Minnick at Lovely's Fifty Fifty on Mississippi Avenue runs the most farm-driven pizza program in the city. The menu changes weekly, sometimes nightly, based on whatever Oregon growers drop off that morning. Minnick is a James Beard semifinalist and the pies read like a market list: padron and feta one week, chanterelle and pecorino the next. The dough is naturally leavened and it carries the toppings without arguing with them.
Nostrana in Buckman opened the same year as Apizza Scholls. Cathy Whims runs an Italian classical kitchen with a wood oven, and its radicchio salad was famous in town before the pizza was. The pies are restrained, well-sauced, and built for a sit-down dinner with a wine list.
Meta Pizza is the contemporary read on the wood-oven format. Naturally leavened dough, seasonal toppings, a small dining room that fills up fast. The crust runs lighter than Scholls and the toppings go further into Pacific Northwest territory.
The Turning Peel is the kind of small wood-fired pizzeria you walk past three times before noticing. Round pies, a careful hand on the peel (the metal paddle the pizzaiolo turns the pie with), and a menu that does not try to do everything.
Prettyboy Pizza is the youngest of the natural-leaven operations on this list. Pacific Northwest ingredients, wild-yeast dough, and a menu that reads like it was written by someone who eats a lot of pizza on their day off.
The New Haven apizza wing
Portland takes New Haven apizza more seriously than most cities west of Connecticut. Char on the edges, oblong pies, a thin layer of sauce, and a white clam pie that reads as a direct reference to Frank Pepe's on Wooster Street.
Dimo's Apizza on East Burnside, in Kerns, is the cleanest expression of the style in the city. Doug Miriello opened it in July 2020 and named it after his grandmother. Each pie bakes twice, first in a deck oven and then in a wood oven, to get the Wooster Street char, and the white clam pie is the order.
The slice shops
Scottie's Pizza Parlor on SE Division opened in 2015, when Brooklyn-raised Scott Rivera and Amy Coplen decided Portland needed a serious New York slice. A second shop followed in Northwest Portland in 2022. The slice folds the way it should.
Baby Doll Pizza on SE Stark in Kerns, with a second shop in King, is the late-night corner of the scene. Big foldable triangles, a red sauce that tastes like it was cooked down on purpose, and a counter that stays open when the rest of the neighborhood has gone home.

Red Sauce Pizza in Concordia, in Northeast Portland, opened in October 2015 under owner Shardell Dues, in the old Bob's Rocket Pizza space. The upside-down "PIZZA" sign out front came with the building.
The neighborhood pizzerias and the wild cards
East Glisan Pizza Lounge in Montavilla, open since 2014, is the neighborhood pizzeria every city wants and most cities do not have. A wood oven, a long beer list, and a menu that reads New York by way of Portland. The crowd is locals and the pies are honest.
Lombardo's Pizzeria is the Detroit pan pizzeria. Crispy edges, the lacy frico cheese ring along the rim, sauce on top in stripes. If you have only had Detroit-style at a chain, this is the one that will reset the bar.
Pizza Kat runs tavern-style square cut on a long ferment. The crust is thin, the cheese goes corner to corner, and the menu is the kind the local crowd argues about online without ever agreeing.
How we ranked this
We sorted by what people who came for the pizza actually thought about the pizza, not by who has the longest line on a Friday night. A 600-review average loaded with parking complaints and napkin grievances loses to a smaller pizzeria where the people in the seats came to eat. Portland has spent twenty years building a pizza scene that does not need any of the chains.
For more US pizza city deep-dives, see Chicago's three distinct traditions, Brooklyn's coal-oven legends, and the 2026 NYC price map.
