New York’s Best Hole-In-The-Wall Pizza Spots To Try This Year That You’ve Never Heard Of

In New York, the most satisfying slices often come from narrow rooms with fogged windows, humming ovens, and a rhythm that feels unchanged by trends.

These are places where the dough speaks first, sauce follows with confidence, and nobody asks you to photograph anything before eating. You step in hungry, step out convinced, and wonder why you waited so long to listen.

What makes these New York pizza spots special is not novelty, but devotion. Owners keep hours that suit the oven, locals know exactly when to show up, and slices disappear faster than menus can explain them.

The settings stay modest, the flavours stay honest, and the loyalty runs deep. This list is about finding pizza that earns its reputation quietly. Which of these under-the-radar spots will become the one you start recommending carefully, only to people you trust?

1. Lucia Pizza, New York

On a narrow block, the neon hum and hot cheese perfume pull you in before the sign even registers. Slices come out glossy and alive, that straight-up New York balance of crisp undercarriage and a saucy, savory slap. You fold, you tilt, and the oil streaks your knuckles like a badge you did not know you wanted.

Ask for a plain first, then a pepperoni for science, and maybe the garlic knots if patience is not your strength. Tucked within easy reach of 136-55 Roosevelt Avenue, Queens, the shop buzzes with locals who talk with their hands and order like clockwork. The counter crew moves fast, clipping pies with a practiced thwack that sets the rhythm of the room.

What stands out here is clean flavor and restraint, like the sauce refuses to shout over the cheese. The crust has a gentle chew, the kind that keeps structure without going cracker. You will leave thinking about the second bite instead of the first.

2. Fazio’s, New York

Behind a modest facade sits a time capsule where pie boxes stack like skyline silhouettes. The dough here tastes patient, proofed just long enough to remain springy, then baked until the edge freckles. Sauce leans tomato-forward with a wink of oregano, like Sunday gravy’s breezier cousin.

You will find it a quick stroll from 713 2nd Avenue, New York, where regulars grab paper plates and swap neighborhood gossip. The first bite lands with a faint crunch, then softens into steam and sweetness. Cheese stretches just enough to be fun without turning into jump rope.

Order the plain or a sausage slice and watch how the fat kisses the cheese into tiny bronze pools. That old-school hum is real, the kind that makes you slow down and count how many napkins you have left. It is friendly, unfussy, and exactly what your pizza memory wanted to taste.

3. Sal & Carmine’s, New York

This Upper West Side stalwart works like a metronome, slice after slice. The pie is thin but muscular, with a reassuring crunch that snaps cleanly before giving way. Sauce rides bright and honest, a red that does not hide behind sugar, letting the cheese glow in simple harmony.

Head over to 2671 Broadway, New York, and you will spot the steady flow of locals sliding in and out between errands. The counter guy sets a slice on your plate with friendly indifference, which somehow tastes like authenticity. A quick reheat tightens the underside to a toasty tan, and suddenly you are nodding at nothing in particular.

Get a plain first. Then maybe a Sicilian if you want a thicker, airy slab with corners that crunch like secrets. It is no-nonsense, no frills, and no regrets, just New York in three bites and a walk to the subway.

4. Joe & Pat’s, New York

Thin-crust loyalists should carve out time for this Staten Island legend. The crust is whisper-thin yet somehow sturdy, a lacquered crispness that shatters gently under tomato brightness. Cheese is applied with restraint, so every sip of sauce gets airtime like a favorite track.

Plan a ferry day and head to 1758 Victory Boulevard, Staten Island, where the dining room glows with family energy and framed memories. A plain pie is the move, though vodka sauce and fresh basil make a convincing encore. Each slice feels cut for folding, yet it never slumps into sog.

The magic is balance and that faint charcoal perfume from a well-seasoned deck. You take a bite, blink, and realize the slice disappeared while you were nodding between sentences. It is quietly legendary because it never needed billboards, just good pizza and word of mouth.

5. Denino’s, New York

Walk into Denino’s and the bar hum says you will be fed right. Pies arrive thin, crisp, and generously topped, the sausage crumbled with fennel sparks that wake up the sauce. Onion rings on the side are a ritual, shattering crisp like culinary bubble wrap between bites of pie.

You will find it at 524 Port Richmond Avenue, Staten Island, a neighborhood anchor where servers move like they have mapped every table in their heads. The cheese does not drown the slice, it seasons it, leaving room for the sauce to sing. Pepperoni curls into little cups that capture orange gold.

Order a half sausage, half onion, then sit back and let the tabletop shine with pizza freckles. It is family-run and fiercely local, the kind of place that makes you a regular by your second visit. The slices are serious, the welcome is easy, and the check never stings.

6. Rosa’s Pizza, New York

Rosa’s is the reliable friend who always answers. Regular slices fold like they were born for subway platforms, with a thin crisp that keeps your shirt safe. Sauce leans savory with a hint of sweetness, and the cheese melts into even coverage without grease drama.

Pop into 55-26 Myrtle Avenue, Ridgewood, or swing by the Elmhurst shop at 7559 Metropolitan Avenue, both humming through lunch rush. The sleeper hit is the sesame-crusted square, nutty and fragrant with a caramelized corner bite. Garlic knots come fluffy, glazed in butter, the kind you tear open while the next pie reheats.

Pro tip: ask for well-done if you like extra crunch. The staff is brisk but gracious, and slices keep flying until the case looks like a desert before a fresh tray appears. Neighborhood flavor, zero pretense, just comfort eating done right.

7. Sergimmo Salumeria, New York

Blink and you miss it, but your nose will not. This deli turns out Roman-leaning squares with a gentle crunch and airy crumb, topped with good olive oil and delicate mozzarella. Prosciutto drapes over warm slabs like a silk scarf, and suddenly lunch becomes a small celebration.

Slip into 456 9th Avenue, New York, and scan the case for mortadella, roasted peppers, and those gorgeous rectangles. The counter folks slice to order and sometimes sprinkle arugula that wilts perfectly on contact. It is cafeteria casual with boutique ingredients, which feels delightfully sneaky.

Get the margherita square and a side of caponata, then walk it to the curb and people-watch. The crust’s bubbles char in friendly freckles, and the sauce tastes like tomatoes that got sun. Hidden deli-style pizza that is worth the detour and the extra napkin.

8. Louie & Ernie’s, New York

The Bronx keeps this treasure safe on a quiet stretch where the sausage steals the show. Thin pies blister at the edges, char-speckled and fragrant, a crust that crackles like dry leaves. That fennel-rich sausage sits in juicy nuggets, every bite a little picnic.

Make your way to 1300 Crosby Avenue, Bronx, and you will see families mixing with firefighters and old friends. The vibe is unforced, the kind of room where nobody is posing and every slice disappears fast. Ask for a sausage and onion pie and let the perfume own the table.

What matters here is history you can taste, steady hands guiding dough to familiar magic. Grab a booth, tilt a slice, and listen to the quiet chorus of crunch. It is old-school heart without the museum ropes, delicious and deeply lived-in.

9. Two Boots, New York

Playful and a little wild, these slices bring Cajun swagger to New York classic form. Cornmeal-tinged crust gives a sandy crunch that sets them apart the second your teeth land. Toppings run funky, from andouille to jalapenos, each pie named like a band you want to see live.

Drop by 101 7th Avenue South, New York, and you will recognize the vivid murals before the menu. The counter pops with color, and the pies rotate like a record collection on shuffle. A reheat snaps the bottom into perfect travel mode for sidewalk snacking.

Try the Mr. Pink or the Bayou Beast if you like heat with personality, then chase with a square of Sicilian for balance. You will get spice, sweetness, and a wink of smoke that keeps you curious. It is local, lively, and cheerfully offbeat without losing slice discipline.

10. John’s of Bleecker Street, New York

Coal heat and patience define this Village classic where slices are not a thing and nobody minds. The crust bakes firm with leopardy char, airy pockets holding whispers of smoke. Sauce is restrained, cheese is modest, and the whole pie rewards slow conversation.

Slip in at off hours near 278 Bleecker Street, New York, to dodge the usual queue and enjoy that traffic-free calm. You will watch pies slide into the coal oven like letters into a secret slot. Toppings stay simple, with sausage, mushrooms, or basil leading the way.

Order a small for two and guard the last slice like a relic. The flavor lingers, a warm shadow of coal and tomato that follows you onto the sidewalk. It is classic without cosplay, a living piece of the city’s pizza memory.

11. Ricci’s Pizzeria, New York

You might walk past twice because the sign does not try. Inside, the oven breathes quietly while a steady rhythm of slices find their people. The plain slice shines with that clean tomato snap and a just-chewy crust that never gets floppy.

Keep an eye around 45-06 46th Street, Sunnyside, Queens, where locals duck in for quick comfort and duck out smiling. The counter folks know regular orders by posture alone, which is its own kind of poetry. Ask for a fresh reheat and watch the bottom tan into perfect readiness.

Go plain, then chase with a square if one has just landed. The room is tiny, the flavor is not, and the price feels like thanks for showing up. No signage, all flavor, and a slice that behaves exactly how you wish others would.

12. Emmy Squared, New York

Detroit-style squares land like little feasts, edges lacquered into caramelized cheese armor. The crumb is plush and buttery, absorbing sauce without surrendering structure. Pepperoni cups crisp into savory chalices that hoard spicy oil like treasure.

Head to 364 Grand Street, Brooklyn, and slip into a booth where the lighting makes every pie look like a portrait. Service is relaxed, and the menu plays with toppings that feel clever without being fussy. Hot honey finds its way onto more than one slice, with a sweet sting that makes you grin.

Start with the Colony pie and do not rush the corners. Those edge bites carry smoke, cheese crunch, and a gentle char that keeps pulling you back. It is laid-back, a little indulgent, and exactly right for a slow evening.

13. Motorino, New York

This is where tender meets toasted, a Neapolitan-leaning pie with a disciplined puff. The crust blisters into leopard spots that smell faintly of wheat and smoke. Sauce is juicy and bright, the kind that makes basil feel like a small celebration.

Find it at 139 Broadway, Brooklyn, where the room glows with oven light and soft chatter. Whole pies only, which suits the style, because slices would not do the airiness justice. A margherita tells the truth here, though a soppressata piccante whispers convincing asides.

Let the pie rest a minute so the cheese settles and the bottom firms up. Then chase with a sip of something bubbly and call it balance. This quiet gem rewards patience, good company, and the urge to mop the last tomato trail.