I wrote about the \u201cState of the Slice\u201d for the New York Times back in 2002, and honestly, the only thing New Yorkers loved more than eating pizza was fighting about it. Fast-forward to 2026, and the slice scene has gone through a fermentation-obsessed, artisanal-flour-powered, freshly-milled glow-up. Are we witnessing a pizza renaissance? We are not just witnessing it, friend\u2014we are eating it, usually while standing over a paper plate that is somehow smaller than the slice.

Before we go further, let\u2019s define what a New York slice actually is, because I refuse to argue with strangers without a shared vocabulary.

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What Even Is a New York Slice in 2026?

A proper New York slice has a few nonnegotiables:

  • Thin, crisp, flexible crust \u2014 you can fold it without it shattering like a cracker.

  • Uncooked tomato sauce \u2014 usually crushed tomatoes lightly seasoned with salt, maybe herbs, maybe a little sugar.

  • Low-moisture mozzarella \u2014 the industry standard, not fresh mozzarella, applied in balance with sauce and crust.

  • A deck oven around 550\u00b0F \u2014 gas is classic, but electric is creeping in.

  • Triangle shape for regular slices, square for Sicilian and grandma.

A good slice, though, is something more. The crust should have real color, a sign that the dough was fermented long enough to release sugars and flavor. If you see a pale, cracker-like crust, someone rushed the dough. The crumb should be airy and open, with good hole structure, especially in the end crust.

\ud83c\udf55 The Revivalists: Where the Nerds Won

The revival slice shop takes the old-school slice-joint model and injects it with serious ingredients, technique, and a borderline unhealthy obsession with hydration percentages. These are the spots to try if you want to understand where slice culture is headed.

  • Best Pizza, Williamsburg \u2014 Frank Pinello is patient zero of the revival slice. He trained at the Culinary Institute of America, then opened a slice shop in a brick oven from the early 20th century. The regular slice is thin, pliable, and crisp-springy, with bright sauce and fresh mozzarella. You cannot order the wrong slice here.

  • L\u2019Industrie, Williamsburg \u2014 Massimo Laveglia took over a sleepy shop and turned it into a temple. The slice has superb char, air, and texture. It is the re-Italianization of New York pizza without any machismo, and the burrata slice is an Instagram phenomenon for a reason.

  • Mama\u2019s Too, Upper West Side \u2014 Frank Tuttolomondo bridges Roman pizza al taglio and New York squares. The crust is made from a 70% hydrated dough, so the crumb is open and airy. Here is the rule: eat the regular slice as close to the oven as possible. It loses some magic when it sits.

  • Scarr\u2019s, Lower East Side \u2014 Scarr Pimentel worked at Lombardi\u2019s, Joe\u2019s, and Artichoke before opening a studiously hole-in-the-wall shop. He mills his own flour, which gives the crust a nutty, crisp-chewy flavor. It looks like a 1970s pizza shop, but it sells some of the most considered pizza in the city.

  • Corner Slice \u2014 Mike Bergemann is the mad scientist of pizza, blending durum and spelt flours from Central Milling for a bubbly, sturdy square. Formerly in Gotham West, it has since hopped across the river to Maplewood, New Jersey. The tomato slice with Sicilian oregano is a great introduction.

  • My Pie Pizzeria Romana \u2014 The Ozger brothers learned from Gabriele Bonci himself, then brought medium-thick, light, crisp squares to Midtown. They are served al taglio from big trays behind glass, loaded with organic toppings.

  • Sofia Pizza Shoppe \u2014 Tommy DeGrezia, grandson of the \u201cV\u201d in J&V, serves a thinner-than-usual regular slice with ideal sauce-cheese balance. The spinach-dip slice sounds like a gut-busting gimmick, but it works.

  • Williamsburg Pizza \u2014 Nino Coniglio is an itinerant pizza obsessive who brings old-school NYC crust\u2014crisp veneer, tender interior, plenty of color\u2014to Brooklyn.

\ud83c\udfdb\ufe0f The Classics: The Foundational Slices

You need these slices for cultural literacy. They are the old-school spots that built the New York slice joint into an institution.

  • Di Fara Pizza, Midwood \u2014 The late Dom De Marco made Di Fara the pilgrimage pizzeria of NYC. Things have changed\u2014no more fresh mozzarella on the regular pie, pre-grated Romano instead of hand-grated Grana Padano\u2014but somehow the regular slice still tastes like Di Fara. Scott Wiener calls it \u201cthe pilgrimage pizzeria of NYC,\u201d and he is right.

  • Joe\u2019s Pizza, Greenwich Village \u2014 This is the New York-iest New York slice. Crisp, thin, crushed canned tomatoes, low-moisture mozzarella. Skip the fresh mozzarella slices; they are bland. Joe\u2019s is so consistent that I dream of it replacing every mediocre airport slice forever.

  • L&B Spumoni Gardens, Gravesend \u2014 We are talking only about the Sicilian here. The sauce goes on top of the cheese, creating a crisp top and a tender, almost airy interior. That apparent undercooked line when you bite in? It is a false gum line caused by melted cheese pressing into the dough. The L&B square is its own beautiful animal.

  • Patsy\u2019s Pizzeria, East Harlem \u2014 One of only two coal-oven pizzerias selling by the slice in New York, and a minimalist masterpiece. It is smaller than most slices, but it is still one of the best values in town.

  • New York Pizza Suprema, Midtown \u2014 Across from Penn Station and Madison Square Garden, this place is always busy, so you are almost guaranteed a fresh slice. The regular slice has a sweet sauce and is exemplary; the upside-down Sicilian is another level.

  • Joe & Pat\u2019s, Staten Island \u2014 The slice is instantly recognizable: super-thin, flat crust all the way to the edge, with discrete cubes of low-moisture mozzarella melting into distinct blobs over a simple sauce.

  • Louie & Ernie\u2019s, Throgs Neck, Bronx \u2014 They put a pinch of black pepper in the center of the pie, a technique called center-loading. Add a bit of cornmeal on the underside and sparing whole-milk mozzarella, and you get a diminutive slice of heaven.

  • New Park Pizzeria, Howard Beach \u2014 Ask for it well-done. The old brick-lined oven throws serious heat, and the staff occasionally salt the oven floor, which somehow makes a just-salted slice perfect.

  • Rizzo\u2019s, Astoria \u2014 A unique \u201cthin-crust Sicilian,\u201d rectangular with sparse sauce and cheese distributed in neat little rectangles. The crust is biscuit-y and dense, but nobody else makes a slice like this.

\ud83c\udfe1 The Neighborhood Favorites: The Hometown Heroes

These spots may not have citywide fame, but locals will send you there\u2014or not, if they want to keep a good thing to themselves. They are community hubs and local touchstones.

  • Louie\u2019s, Elmhurst \u2014 Top of this category for a reason. The grandma slice is technically a Sicilian because it proofs in the pan, and it is an upside-down one: fresh mozzarella first, then crushed plum tomatoes with garlic, basil, and Pecorino Romano. The crust is light, airy, and crisp. More importantly, Louie\u2019s is a genuine community hub where the owner greets you like a regular and the room feels like Queens\u2014cops, hospital staff, families, and pizza nerds all bantering together.

  • Luigi\u2019s Pizza, Park Slope \u2014 Gio Lonzo runs a serious dough-management operation, with an entire storefront devoted to refrigerators set at different fermentation stages. The regular slice is excellent and balanced. Scott\u2019s assessment: \u201cIt\u2019s the truth. It\u2019s the honest truth of New York pizza.\u201d

  • Delmar, Sheepshead Bay \u2014 A litmus test for deep Brooklyn. The regular slice has even color, tight cheese-sauce proportions, and enough Romano to lend a salty tang. The Sicilian is light and lovely.

  • Dani\u2019s House of Pizza, Kew Gardens \u2014 The crust is super thin, crisp, and light, with a generous helping of sweet sauce. Yes, their semi-official hashtag is #sweetsauce, and yes, for a fresh hot slice, I make an exception.

  • J&V Pizza, Bensonhurst \u2014 The regular slice has salty cheese and a nice crunch, but the Sicilian is the thing: light, airy, and goopy in the best way.

  • Sac\u2019s Place, Astoria \u2014 The only other coal-oven slice in New York besides Patsy\u2019s. The cool part: they bake the pie in the coal oven, then reheat your slice in a gas deck oven. The result is thin, crisp, and bright.

  • Sal & Carmine\u2019s, Upper West Side \u2014 An old-school institution since 1965, run by Sal\u2019s grandson. The slices are slightly bready, very cheesy, and the sauce is barely evident. It is a glorious, greasy time capsule.

  • Ciccio\u2019s, Gravesend \u2014 Known for its sesame seed crust, a rare move in New York. The crust is like getting a bonus red-sauce sesame stick.

So what is the state of the slice in 2026? It is better, nerdier, and more consistent than it was in 2002. But ask me for the single best slice, and you will still get a long answer. Do I rank pizzerias? No\u2014ranking a great slice is like ranking sneezes. Would I eat 5,000 slices like Scott Wiener? Please do not tempt me, because I absolutely would try. The New York slice is not a single boss level; it is an entire open-world map, and I plan to keep eating my way through every borough.