The Twin Cities went from pizza-as-an-afterthought to a real pizza town in about a decade. Wood-fired, coal-fired, Detroit-style, Neapolitan, and a couple of by-the-slice operations that actually fold the way they should. Here is where we go.
Ann Kim opened Lola in 2010 and it still feels like the place that changed what people expected from pizza here. The Lady ZaZa, with kimchi and serrano-spiked tomato sauce, is the one to order. Reservations open a month ahead and tend to vanish by the weekend.
The coal oven gets a char on the crust that wood ovens cannot quite reach. The Italian sausage with roasted red peppers is the move. The North Loop room is the original. Eat Street and St. Paul are equally good.
A local chain that takes the rules seriously. Imported flour, San Marzano tomatoes, an oven that hits 800°F, ninety seconds from peel to plate. The Toto on a quiet weeknight is one of the best cheap dinners in the city.
Genuine Detroit-style squares with crispy fried-cheese edges, airy interior, sauce ladled on after. Started in the Northrup King Building, now operating with locations including Lyn-Lake and a food truck. The Hot Honey is worth the trip.
A St. Paul institution that has been on West Seventh since 1911. The cafeteria-style slices are big and a little sweet and exactly the right thing on a winter Saturday. The market upstairs is a separate small joy.
Argentinian-style pizza, which means a thicker, chewier crust and a generous hand with the cheese. Order the fugazzeta if you have not had one. Add empanadas to round it out.
A pizzeria attached to a brewery, with a menu that changes when the kitchen feels like changing it. Names like the Smoking Goat. Beer pairings that actually fit. Worth the short drive from Minneapolis-proper.
A small Linden Hills room that nails the family-restaurant register without ever feeling phoned in. The Bacon Cheeseburger pie reads like a gimmick and tastes like the kind of thing you order on the way home from a long week.
The closest the Twin Cities gets to a real New York-style slice operation. A rotating roster of square cuts, open late, the kind of slice you can actually fold.
In the Minneapolis skyway, quietly serving slices to half the downtown workforce for decades. The pepperoni curls into little grease cups exactly like it should. A ritual for the people who eat there every week.
Ann Kim’s third concept, this time built around the New York slice. The crust folds, the cheese pulls, the corner pieces are worth fighting your friends for.