What started as a farmers market stand has become one of Beaverton’s most exciting new restaurant openings. Hapa Pizza uses a foundation of soft, chewy, char-speckled crust for toppings inspired by a cool collection of pan-Asian dishes. For example, a heavily reduced pho broth becomes a sauce for a pizza inspired by the Vietnamese noodle soup, topped with fall-apart tender brisket, mozzarella, and a handful of bean sprouts. A massaman curry base comes with a scattering of red bell peppers and onions, with a choice of lemongrass pork or fried tofu. And the banh mi pie cuts the richness of pork with pickled radish and carrots. Sticklers and purists will find the standards here as well, like pepperoni and margherita.

Gracie’s, the St. Johns pizzeria, is back and better than ever in a sunny new space. Here, Pacific Northwestern grain gets its noteworthy tang from a rye sourdough starter, the canvas for a rotating selection of fun house-made touches or seasonal treats. Pies drizzled with Oregon green garlic arrive alongside pizzas topped with a handful of hazelnuts and crescendo cheese fonduta, accompanied by a classic, intentionally simple tomato pie; for those looking for something different, Gracie’s calzone is also one of the city’s finest.

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.

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.

In a big, lofty Pearl District dining room, this Bay Area transplant specializes in deep-dish pizzas filled with things like artichoke hearts or roasted zucchini. Think of the Star’s deep-dish as a well-made pie: A crunchy, buttery crust with a dry base has a flavor almost like cornbread, filled with cheese and a sweet-not-sugary tomato sauce. The balance of textures is a true marvel, saucy and messy at its core, fluffy-not-gummy inside the crust, and satisfyingly crisp at the base and edges.

The last thing Portland needed was another pizzeria, but Cafe Olli isn’t just a pizzeria: From morning baked eggs to evening panna cotta, the restaurant wears many hats in its Northeast Portland space. In the evenings, the restaurant’s wood-fired oven crisps 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.

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.

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.

Marda Stoliar of the International School of Baking helped develop the starter and dough for the pizzas at this vaunted Italian restaurant, which serves Neapolitan-esque pies topped with gaping-mouthed clams or kale-pistachio pesto. This restaurant is known for its seasonality, so some pies change fairly often; the funghi, however, remains on the menu in some form or another almost always, a layer of earthy mushrooms sitting under a pile of dressed, peppery arugula. Simplicity at its finest.

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. Some pizzas pull from the Italian American culinary canon, like a vodka sauce pie paired with n’duja; others are more Pacific Northwestern in style, pairing beets with summer berries and fresh sheep’s cheese. The restaurant’s standard cheese, here called a “plain” pizza, is pure comfort food.

Scottie’s namesake Scottie cooked pizzas in both New York and New Haven before hitting Portland, and his Pacific Northwestern pies balance a touch of naturally leavened tang in the crust with the creaminess of ricotta and mozzarella. While the traditional rounds are always a hit, Scottie’s has developed a reputation for its nonna pie, a square pizza covered in a layer of fresh basil leaves. Order online for pickup at the Southeast Division pizzeria, or visit the new location in Northwest Portland.

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.

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.

This Rose City Park pizzeria relies on the family dough recipe of owner Vincenzo Coco Jr., one his grandfather brought to New York from Sicily after World War II. The shop currently sells two styles of pizza: A hand-tossed round and a thicker Sicilian, which offers a distinctive fluffy crust with a crispy bottom. The Sunday sugo arrives as dollops on the Sicilian square pie, tender meatballs balanced on top; it’s a decadent treat, especially compared to the simplicity of the shop’s white pie.

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.

This Sandy food cart from Andina and Pizzeria Otto alum Roberto Hernandez Guerrero doesn’t just serve soft Neapolitan-style pies topped with Mama Lil’s Peppers or pesto; visitors can also order the cart’s take on a baleada, a pizza crust adorned with a layer of beans topped with clouds of sour cream and mozz. There’s nothing like it in town, though even the cart’s simpler pies — crowded curly pepperonis mingling with red onion and jalapeno, a standard margherita with a lovely tomato base — are sure to stun. Keep an eye out for specials that pull from the Latin American culinary canon, whether it’s a mole negro-topped pizza or meatballs with sunny salsa Huancaína.

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.