Although the crust at this Vancouver pizzeria is fantastic — satisfyingly spongy and lightly tangy, a white blonde bake with polka-dots of black char — the topping combinations are the real draw. A hearty, intricate pork bolognese, lightly smoky from the wood-burning oven, arrives with a layer of mozzarella and grana padano. For something lighter, a gorgeous hazelnut pie comes topped with a mound of fresh greens, drizzled with a zippy tahini vin. Both are well-complemented by the restaurant’s salads, made with produce from nearby Pacific Northwestern farms.

This food cart turned restaurant is known for its meticulous Neapolitan pies, a delicate, flavorful crust layered with rosy prosciutto or bursting cherry tomatoes. Owner Daisuke Matsumoto trained under master pizzaiolo Biagio Longo in Sorrento, Italy, now focusing exclusively on his restaurant’s pies; his business partner and wife, Amy Hernandez Matsumoto, greets customers who pop by the restaurant for pristine margheritas or briny puttanesca pies, covered with olives, capers, and anchovies. The terra mia, an eggplant parm pie with sausage, is a particular standout.

Like Lovely’s Fifty-Fifty, No Saint — a newcomer to Portland’s pizza scene — covers its pies in an eclectic and ever-rotating cast of vegetables, ranging from purple Brussels sprouts to rainbow carrots. The crust has nice flavor from the wood-fired oven, with toppings that are elegant and fun but not showy. The Gruyere and Taleggio cream pie, spotted with purple and new potatoes, is a standout. On Sundays, stop in for spongy Sicilian pies.

Sarah Minnick’s pizzas really live up to the name: Often garnished with flowers and seasonal vegetables, Lovely’s Fifty-Fifty’s pizza is just, well, lovely. Almost all of her ingredients come from Pacific Northwestern sources, with a heavy emphasis on seasonality, and the restaurant’s Oregon whole grain crust is becoming the model for Portland-style pizza. Minnick’s restaurant has reopened for indoor service, a bustling and warm dining room with an ice cream counter at the front.

The last thing Portland needed was another pizzeria, but Cafe Olli isn’t just a pizzeria: From morning baked eggs to evening panna cotta, Cafe Olli wears many hats in its Northeast Portland space. In the evenings, the restaurant’s wood-fired oven crisps medium-thick pizzas with a beautiful array of toppings, which complement (but not distract from) the nuanced flavor of the crust. Some days, pies may come topped with a slather of ricotta or petals of mortadella; others, oyster mushrooms cover the pie alongside dollops of grits, of all things. It’s extremely hard to go wrong.

Not only has Red Sauce’s Shardell Dues developed a serious following for her killer menu of chewy pies topped with aged mozz, she’s donated a hunk of her proceeds to various humanitarian causes over the years, from Taking Ownership PDX, which helps renovate Black-owned homes to fight gentrification, to Rose Haven, a shelter that serves women and gender-nonconforming folks in need. It’s hard to go wrong here — the Georjean with vodka sauce and ricotta, the pepperoni-pineapple-jalapeño, or the Hot Nancy with house spicy honey are all standouts.

Darby Aldaco served as the executive chef at the lauded Nancy Silverton pizzeria Triple Beam before opening this Slabtown pizzeria with his best friend, entering the already-crowded sourdough pizza scene with a New-York-style shop. However, Pizza Thief still stands out for its take on a New York-style pizza, which retains the unfussy joy of a pepperoni slice with the notable tang of a sourdough pie. The shop’s pepperoni has a nice char-dotted base with a serious dose of stretchy cheese, and the Hot Tony is absolutely piled with cured meats and peppers.

The rebellious pizzaiolos at Ranch aren’t interested in doing anything conventionally. With their cheesy edges and crispy bottoms, the restaurant’s pies aren’t traditional Sicilian squares, and the restaurant’s eponymous ranch is an essential part of the experience. Still, these pies are hard to forget, with a pleasantly spongy crumb, thick slabs of pepperoni, and a garlicky dipping sauce best swabbed with a hunk of crust.

This Montavilla neighborhood pizzeria has cozy, old-school bar vibes, but its Detroit pan pizzas make it a pizza destination. The crust is sufficiently airy, not weighed down by its significant layer of cheese and super-herbaceous tomato sauce, with those crispy, cheesy edges almost blackened in the oven. The restaurant also offers 12- and 16-inch rounds, topped with everything from garlic oil to puttanesca sauce.

Dimo’s was pitched as a New Haven-style pizzeria designed for takeout; to consider it that way is to do it a disservice. Its crust is hard to categorize, crunchier and less chewy than a typical New Haven, but it’s also unlike any other pizza in Portland, with a nice balance of crisp and char. But chef Doug Miriello’s approach to toppings is particularly special: Its clam pie, a nod to legendary apizza shop Frank Pepe, comes covered in wood-roasted clams with clam liquor and parsley, a brisk hit of seawater tempered with herbs and parmesan. Those intimidated by seafood pizzas should go for the shop’s delicate tomato pie, which gets little more than a few shavings of garlic and Sicilian oregano.

Ken Forkish isn’t running his illustrious pizzeria anymore, but he didn’t want to leave the business until his pizza recipe had reached the platonic ideal of a good pie. Forkish says the restaurant is making its best pizza ever now, and he’s right: The crust is now a blend of sourdough and traditional yeast doughs, topped with a fine-tuned house mozzarella that blankets the pie evenly. The one thing that remains: The restaurant’s wood-fired ovens, which leopards the crusts in char.

Pop Pizza’s square pies feel distinct from the deliciously maximalist pies at Ranch or the true-to-form Detroit found at Assembly Brewing; instead, owner Marius Pop approaches his pizzas with the eye of a pastry chef, which makes sense — Pop is known for his bakery, Nuvrei, with its rose croissants and various hues of macarons. The dough here is light and soft, just a touch sweet, with a consistent cheesy crunch baked into the edges. Toppings hew pretty traditional here, with standards like pepperoni and sausage.

Apizza Scholls is often considered the home of Portland’s best pizza crust, with textbook-ideal crumb. However, adorned with toasted pumpkin seeds, roasted tomato pesto, or house-cured Canadian bacon, Apizza Scholls’ pies are just as much about the toppings as the crust. The Apizza Amore, sporting very little other than delicate petals of Portland-made capicola, is stunningly beautiful in its simplicity.

This Foster-Powell’s brewery and pizzeria is likely serving the city’s best Detroit-style pie. Co-owner George Johnson learned to make his crispy pan pizzas at the award-winning Detroit Style Pizza Company, and it shows: In an industrial brewery space with outdoor picnic tables, servers deliver crispy-chewy-soft pizzas with tons of crispy baked-on cheese to neighborhood locals and pizza nerds. The result: a perplexingly juicy pie smothered in dollops of tomato sauce and almost saucy cheese.

Before Portland’s pizza scene became nationally relevant, this cart-turned-restaurant was the spot carving out the city’s pizza niche, a trailblazer in the seasonal-produce-topped, wood-fired pizza space. The restaurant’s peach-topped pie is a bucket-list item in the summer, while winter pizzas arrive strewn with things like rutabagas or marinated dried tomatoes. Although there are many new pizza players in town, topping combinations at Tastebud remain some of the most inventive around. Tastebud remains takeout only, with online ordering.

When it comes to neighborhood pizzerias, Sellwood’s Stellina is punching above its weight. Slow-fermented dough made with Pacific Northwestern flour gets a gentle stretch, resulting in an airy, sturdy crust with lots of flavor. The 12-inch pies come with toppings like herbed ricotta and ribbons of prosciutto, or poached pears with honey and Gorgonzola. In the summers, pies show off the seasonal bounty, from juicy cherry tomatoes or pearls of sweet corn.