Best of Boston: A Guide to Finding Your Slice of the Pie

Rumor has it that Regina’s oven is completely illegal but that because it’s so old the city allows it. It’s that oven’s 900 degree heat that makes the pizzas so good (and the servers so nasty). Over the years, several Regina locations have opened up in malls…avoid them at all costs unless Sbarro-esque pies are your kind of thing. The only way to enjoy Pizzeria Regina is to try the real thing. The original Regina is to Boston as the original Pizzeria Uno is to Chicago – sadly exploited, yet still a timeless classic.

Harvard House is notable not necessarily for its pizza (Greek-style, thicker crust, standard toppings) but for the fact that it’s open late. In fact, the pizza isn’t even that good, but no matter, that’s not why people come here. They come here for the subs, the crazy late-night customers, the calzones – basically, everything BUT the pizza. What am I saying? Order something else.

A good word to describe Santarpio’s is crusty – and I ain’t talking about the pizza, my friend. I have no idea how long this place has been here, but judging by the age of the typical regular, my guess is that East Boston was actually built around Santarpio’s. Ever seen the Spike Lee movie “Do the Right Thing?” This is the closest to Sal’s you can find in Boston – the decor, the accents, and probably the pizza, which is basically, the closest to New York-style pizza you’ll find north of the GW Bridge.

Todd English is your typical conceited celebrity chef. Fortunately, he has every right to be – his restaurants are top notch, and Figs – though less upscale than the others – is no exception. The toppings here are insane – calamari, figs, capers – and the crust is nice and crispy. And hey, New Yorkers, this place is so good LaGuardia’s got one now too. See, Bostonians CAN do pizza.

I classify Presto as the kind of place that drunk college kids probably show up at around 2 a.m. I don’t really know, as I’m more of a dinner-at-six kind of gal, but it just strikes me that way. Why, you ask? Their pizza is of the giant, greasy slice persuasion (yes, by-the-slice, I know, it’s amazing!), the seating is made up of little, grungy booths just big enough for a group of six college girls, and the decor certainly looks better after a few beers. That said, the greasy slices are unbelievable!

With a name like “The Upper Crust,” one would think that their clientèle would be of the snobby Brookline variety – while that’s partially true, every time I go in, the place is full of sweatpant-wearing BU chicks. Either way, it doesn’t really matter, because I go for the pie…the enormous, greasy, cheesy, slippery, tasty pie.