Did you know that there are more pizzerias in Rhode Island per capita than anywhere else in the country?
Did you know that Rhode Islanders Google the word "Pizza" more than any other place in the world?
One of the best things about our pizza obsessed state is the variety that's available here. I made this guide for a friend who's exploring different pizza styles, and thought I'd share it with all of you. Which style is your favorite? Which ones are still on your bucket list?
New York-Style Pizza
The quintessential slice—thin, foldable, and unapologetically simple. Born from the hands of Italian immigrants and perfected in the water of the five boroughs. The good ones have that perfect balance: crust charred on the bottom but still pliable enough to fold without cracking, a smear of bright tomato sauce, and just enough low-moisture mozzarella to form that gorgeous orange oil slick on top. Eaten folded while walking, cursing, or contemplating life's disappointments. No utensils. Ever. The great equalizer of the city—where stockbrokers and construction workers stand shoulder to shoulder at 2 AM, grease dripping down their wrists.
Chicago Deep-Dish
Less a pizza and more a casserole with identity issues. This monstrosity inverts the natural order—cheese on the bottom, toppings buried in the middle, and sauce swimming on top like a bloody crime scene. The crust isn't just thick; it's structural, with high sides like a fortress protecting its molten interior. Invented during the Depression, when people needed calories that could last three days. Requires a knife and fork, patience (it takes 45 minutes to bake), and possibly an angioplasty appointment for the following week.
Detroit-Style Pizza
The bastard child of Sicilian tradition and American automotive ingenuity. Originally baked in blue steel pans used for holding auto parts in Motor City factories. The magic is in the edges—where Wisconsin brick cheese creeps up the sides of the pan and caramelizes into a lacy, crispy "frico" crust that would make any cardiologist weep. The sauce? Applied in racing stripes after baking. It's everything good and bad about American excess—a beautiful contradiction of light, airy dough and heart-stopping cheese volume. The dark horse of the pizza world that finally got the respect it deserves.
New Haven Apizza
Connecticut's gift to pizza—pronounced "ah-BEETZ" by locals who will correct you with unbridled northeastern aggression. Coal-fired at unholy temperatures until the thin crust develops leopard spots of char that flirt with being burnt but never cross the line. Minimally topped with just enough sauce, maybe some Romano cheese, and if you're feeling decadent, local clams on the white version. The legendary Frank Pepe's, Modern Pizza or Sally's versions will ruin you for lesser pizzas. This isn't fast food; this is a regional religion. Worth the pilgrimage, worth the wait, worth the inevitable arguments about whether it's better than New York.
California-Style Pizza
The inevitable result when a state obsessed with fresh produce and dietary trends gets its hands on pizza. Pioneered by chefs like Alice Waters and Wolfgang Puck in the 1980s, it's the pizza equivalent of a Silicon Valley startup—disrupting tradition with ingredients no self-respecting Neapolitan would recognize. Goat cheese, truffle oil, arugula, butternut squash, free-range chicken, organic egg—all fair game on these wood-fired, often sourdough crusts. Easy to mock but harder to resist. The best ones achieve a genuine culinary breakthrough; the worst feel like a salad having an identity crisis.
Greek-Style Pizza
Found throughout New England, created by Greek-Americans who figured out how to feed hungry college students and families efficiently. Baked in shallow, heavily oiled pans that create a crust that's neither thin nor deep, but somewhere in between—crispy on the bottom, chewy inside, with a vague hint of fermentation. The sauce leans sweet, the cheese blend is generous, and there's always, ALWAYS oregano involved. The pizza of late-night college memories and small-town family restaurants with names ending in "-os" or "-as." Unpretentious, satisfying, and criminally underrated.
Sicilian-Style Pizza
The thick, rectangular grandfather of many American square slices. In Sicily, it's called sfincione—a focaccia-like dough topped with tomatoes, anchovies, onions, and breadcrumbs. In America, it morphed into a thick, spongy platform for sauce and cheese in abundant proportions. The crust develops a crispy bottom from olive oil in the pan, while staying light inside despite its imposing thickness. It's the pizza that feeds a family, a construction crew, or a child's birthday party with equal efficiency. In the best versions, the edge pieces are fought over with the ferocity of siblings battling for the corner brownie.
Grandma-Style Pizza
The humble homemade pizza of Long Island Italian-American grandmothers, now elevated to cult status. Thinner than Sicilian but still square, with a distinctive layering technique—cheese first, then sauce applied in intentionally rustic strips that leave parts of the cheese exposed to brown directly. The sauce is barely cooked, maintaining a bright acidity that cuts through the richness. The crust has those magical air bubbles that form when dough is allowed to rise directly in the olive-oil-slicked pan. It's home cooking that's made its way into pizzerias—the culinary equivalent of a hand-knit sweater that somehow became high fashion.
Bar Pie
Pizza reduced to its most essential form and then stretched even thinner. Crust crackling like vinyl records, edges crisped to the point of shattering, cheese and sauce in perfect minimalist balance. Designed for one purpose: soaking up alcohol without taking up precious bar real estate or requiring your full attention during a game. The South Shore specialty is barely a quarter-inch thick but delivers a flavor experience inversely proportional to its height. The best are found in establishments with wood paneling, Keno screens, and bartenders who remember your grandfather's drinking habits.
Pizza Strips
The pizza that dares to ask: "What if we removed everything enjoyable about pizza?" if you're not from around here. Bakery trays of room-temperature, thick focaccia-like dough topped with nothing but a heavily seasoned, thick tomato paste. No cheese. No toppings. Served cold by the strip at Italian bakeries, parties, and funerals throughout the Ocean State. Known locally as "party pizza" despite being one of the least festive foods imaginable. And yet... there's something hauntingly addictive about this austere creation, like a monk's version of pizza that finds transcendence through severe simplicity. Is it pizza? You decide. Will a Rhode Islander fight you over it? Absolutely.
Grilled Pizza
Rhode Island's very own contribution to pizza evolution—born in the fires of Providence in the early 1980s. This rebel skips the oven completely, taking dough straight to the hot grill where it bubbles, chars, and transforms within seconds. The technique demands both courage and timing: stretch the dough super-thin, throw it on a blazing hot grill, flip it at just the right moment, then add toppings to the already-cooked side. The result? A paper-thin, cracker-crisp base with the unmistakable flavor of fire, dramatic charred bubbles, and the perfect mix of smoke and chew. Typically topped after grilling with olive oil, fresh tomatoes, herbs, and sharp cheese—a simple approach that lets the cooking method be the star. A pizza that demands full attention from both cook and eater, impossible to mass-produce, and just like our famous pizza strips, a proud Rhode Island original that changed the pizza game forever. Not just another style, but a whole new way of thinking about what pizza can be.
🔥 PIZZA TIME! 🔥
📍 Where in Rhode Island can you find the best examples of these styles?
📍 Which style is your absolute favorite and why?
📍 Is there a style I missed that deserves recognition?
📍 Who makes the best pizza strips in Rhode Island? (I know this might start a war...)
📍 Would you be interested in a pizza crawl to try different styles?
Share your pizza opinions below! And re-stack for a friend who needs this pizza education.