Where to eat pizza on this earth.

Candlelight, a BYOB line, and a thin round pie that made Carroll Gardens a destination.

Highland Park slices. New York logic in a city that also does Naples.

Williamsburg slices with a burrata square people cross the river for.

Ossington. Square slices and a pepperoni honey pie the city queues for.

Robson Street slices. New York rounds from the Via Tevere family, for when you do not want a sit-down oven.

Lower East Side slices from flour they mill in the shop. A plain cheese is the test.

Mississippi Avenue. A neighborhood round, not a pilgrimage with a speech.

The Loop. A thin cornmeal crust that is not the Imo’s square.

South 9th Street. The Philly slice with the fried-cheese-curd pie people queue for.

North Philadelphia, at 28th and Lehigh. A shop that hires people coming home from prison, and bakes a serious pie.

The North End original, on Thacher Street since the 1920s. Boston’s old brick-oven argument.

East Boston. A brick oven, a lamb skewer, and a pie that does not care about the North End.

Freehold Borough. A Monmouth County round that has outlasted every trend on Main Street.

The Greenwich Village slice. Fold it, walk Carmine Street, do not sit down for a tasting menu.

SoHo squares. Pepperoni cups in a puddle of oil. A line, then a box.

Capitol Hill. A Seattle slice shop doing New York rounds, not another wood-fired dinner.

Queen West. The Toronto slice that stopped apologizing for not being Neapolitan.

A South Congress slice that folds. New York logic, Texas heat.