The Brief

Los Angeles is in the midst of a pizza renaissance. Pizzaiolos across the city are slicing up unique takes on pies that pull from multiple influences — local, global, and everything in between, just like Los Angeles itself.

It's like that playlist you make for your friends — a little jazz, rock, hip-hop, country and pop. That's L.A.-style pizza. Because the region isn't beholden to any specific pizza standards, chefs can use all the best parts of what makes a great pie.

Which means I’m fully prepared to say that L.A. is currently making pizza better than any other city across the globe. Fighting talk, I know, but this is a hill I'm willing to die on.

With soccer fans from around the world descending on L.A. this summer, as well as passionate locals cheering on their favorite squad, there's a chance that many will work up an appetite. From the Eastside to Long Beach, the city is ready with inventive takes on crust and toppings, served up fresh to satisfy all your melty, cheesy cravings.

Westwood

Danny Boy's Famous Original

A spread of slices at Danny Boy's Famous Original in Westwood, including pepperoni, white with mushrooms, sausage, and cheese.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

Chef Daniel Holzman has been told he's doing it wrong. His New York-style pizza at Danny Boy's Famous Original — with locations in DTLA, Westwood, and Woodland Hills — relies on a four- to five-day fermentation, well beyond what's customary for the style. But the proof is in the slice: buttery, flaky, soft and chewy, with a crust that develops a complex structure most pizza makers never bother to chase. Don't sleep on the sausage and mozzarella slice, made with freshly ground in-house meat, you can taste with every bite.

Silver Lake / Los Feliz

Hot Tongue Pizza

The best of both worlds : a cheese slice with arrabbiata sauce and a vegan slice made with spicy crushed tomatoes, cashew mozzarella, red pepper, white onion, almond parmesan and fresh basil.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

You'll find the quasi-vegan pizzeria called Hot Tongue Pizza in Silver Lake. I use the term quasi because they started as vegan only and then added meat options later. Each slice costs around $6, but Hot Tongue also offers a great combo lunch option: two slices and a canned soda for $10.

If you're an omnivore like yours truly, you can go both ways. Get one vegan slice, such as their Arrabbiata with cashew mozzarella, spicy tomato sauce, roasted red peppers, white onion, basil and almond parmesan. It's saucy, sweet, and filled with fresh flavors. Then get their cheese slice, with grated parmesan cheese and mozzarella. The vast, sizable slices hit the spot with their chewy, sweet crust. If you're dining in, douse your pizza slices with Zab's Hot Sauce for a bit more sweet heat.

LaSorted's

A slice of pepperoni pizza amongst slices of burrata and cheese and Adriana from La Sorted's Pizza.

(

Brian Feinzimer

/

LAist

)

Tommy Brockert was an L.A. event photographer when his then-girlfriend, now wife, gave him an Ooni pizza oven. That led him to enroll in a one-day pizza-making class, where he was hooked and began stumbling down the rabbit hole of crafting his own naturally leavened sourdough pizza crusts. When his income dried up at the start of the pandemic, he had the crazy idea of selling his homemade pizzas off the front porch of his home in Echo Park. It was so successful that he now runs his own pizza shop, LaSorted's, in Silver Lake, just down the road from where he used to sell his porch pizzas — with a second sit-down location in Chinatown.

A good place to start is the Mamba, prepared as a regular cheese slice or with pepperoni. Its name comes from the late Laker great Kobe Bryant, who once said he ate a pepperoni pizza before scoring 81 points in a single game in 2006. The Upside Down Mamba is perhaps the most texturally interesting pie on the menu — their cheese pizza flipped, with a three-cheese blend serving as its base, then topped thoroughly with tomato sauce, sprinkled with flaky sea salt, and Sicilian oregano. Think about how a producer takes a snippet of a song and creates a new song based on it. Brockert accomplishes something similar with his pizza — it's both specifically Los Angeles and distinctly his own.

Old Gold Tomato Pies

A tray of slices at Old Gold Tomato Pies in Los Feliz, including the Crab Rangoon slice, the Godson with burrata, and the Moral High Ground vegan option.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

Old Gold Tomato Pies feels like the older punk sibling who got really into the Grateful Dead — adorned with the kind of hippie-meets-hardcore energy that jives perfectly with its Los Feliz surroundings. The classic slice shop vibe is immediately welcoming, and the menu rewards the adventurous. The Crab Rangoon slice is the one to try. Premium lump crab from Indonesia — no imitation stuff here — tastes fresh and pairs well with a cream cheese topping for a rich dairy element. The party doesn't stop there: sweet chili sauce mingles with crispy wonton skins and fresh scallions in a combination that might sound like too much. But the Sicilian crust — light and airy on the inside, crispy on the outside — ties it all together and makes any apprehension about your choice go right out the window.

Mid-City 

Apollonia's Pizza

Some of the best pizza you can find in L.A., and it's sold by the slice at Apollonia's Pizzeria on Wilshire Boulevard.

(

Brian Feinzimer

/

LAist

)

Justin De Leon, owner and head pizza maker at Apollonia's Pizza, grew up on pizza. His first job was working at a pizza restaurant when he was 13. The modest menu might make you wonder if this is really some of the best pizza in Los Angeles. But you'll quickly understand why after your first bite — or encountering the long lines outside his standing-room-only, cash-only pizzeria off Wilshire Boulevard.

De Leon has been a lifelong student who has broken down pizza into its fundamental elements. If you ask what defines his pizza craft, he'll say his job is to "simplify it." Start with a traditional slice of De Leon's cheese pie. "I was looking for something thin, light, and crispy," De Leon said. Well, he found it. Next, try the square slice — notice the crispy, frico cheese crust that rises along the sides, giving it a 3-D effect. De Leon describes L.A.-style pizza as a mixture of various styles. In his own words, "To me, L.A. pizza is a mix of everything." Now with a second location on Crenshaw.

Northeast LA

Bub and Grandma's Pizza

Bub and Grandma’s Pizza in Northeast Los Angeles offers East Coast–style slices on sourdough crust with fresh toppings.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

The newest kid on the block on York Boulevard in Highland Park, Bub and Grandma's offers East Coast-style pizza on a sourdough crust that's thin, but don't let that fool you — it's airy and chewy with light char marks throughout. The pepperoni slice is the one to get, with perfectly cupped edges that create a level of synergy with the crust's char you won't soon forget. The meatball onion slice is a close second, with perfectly seasoned meat working harmoniously with caramelized white onions. Does this pizza have any business being this good? Either way, we're all better for it.

Wallflour Pizza

The $10 lunch special at Wallflour Pizza in Eagle Rock comes with a drink and and house salad.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

Brandon and Carolina Conaway started selling pizzas out of their backyard in Highland Park during the pandemic under the name Quarantine Pizza Co., drawing from their diverse backgrounds — Brandon is Asian and white, Carolina is Latina — to create inventive, sourdough-forward pies that developed a cult following on the pop-up circuit. Now brick-and-mortar for about a year on Colorado Boulevard in Eagle Rock, Wallflour is the next chapter. The naturally leavened, Neapolitan-inspired pies are the main event, but don't overlook the $10 lunch special — available daily from noon to 4 p.m. — which includes a focaccia square slice pepperoni and cheese options, a side of house salad, and a soda or sparkling water. And keep an eye on their seasonal specials, check their Instagram for before you go.

Secret Pizza

What happens when an East Coast transplant starts making pizza on the Eastside of L.A.? You get Secret Pizza, Sean Lango's New Jersey-style pizza, with a variety of options available daily.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

New Jersey-style pizza might be a product of the Garden State, but it's one of my favorite East Coast-style pies, New York or otherwise. Secret Pizza was founded by Sean Lango, who began cooking pizza out of his Hollywood apartment before opening his pizzeria in the foothills of Montecito Heights. He calls his pizza New Jersey-style because he's from there and wanted to protect himself from the wrath of purist New Yorkers, who weren't happy with outsiders laying claim to their turf. What makes his pizza so memorable? Its simplicity. The thin crust gives way to a stellar crispy underside, providing an excellent texture, topped off by a tangy sauce. Sure, you could add different toppings, but Lango's pie — crushed tomatoes, a small amount of mozzarella, topped with aged pecorino — is perfect as it is. Sometimes, when you rely on a good, uncomplicated formula, good things happen.

DTLA

Pizzeria Bianco

The red sauce and green sauce slices at Pizzeria Bianco are both bursting with flavor and textures.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

Chris Bianco's temple of pizza cookery, Pizzeria Bianco at The Row near downtown is always worth seeking out. Plus, you can't beat free two-hour parking. Grab either their red or green slice: the red slice showcases their all-killer, no-filler approach with only house cheese blend and tomato sauce. The green contains caciocavallo, a soft Italian cheese, parmesan, and spinach cream sauce. Both slices come in a signature pizza crust that's well-cooked with a tight pull on each bite.

Long Beach

Milana's New York Pizzeria

The Sheepshead Bay slice from Long Beach's Milana's always hits.

(

Gab Chabrán

/

LAist

)

I could not make a pizza list without mentioning one of my favorites in my hometown of Long Beach, Milana's The New York-style pie joint specializes in a series of East Coast-style pies, but the standout for me is the Sheepshead Bay, made with house-made meatballs topped with pillow-soft dollops of ricotta and sprinkled with bits of basil. This exceptionally piled slice features a great combination of flavors — the soft creaminess of the cheese, with just a hint of sharpness that perfectly cuts through the fattiness of the sliced meatballs, and both soft and crispy elements that defy categorization and drive the whole thing home.

Long Beach is famously surrounded by a breakwater to protect its harbor, but that massive barrier hasn’t been able to shield homes on the city’s Peninsula from hurricane-charged swells recently.

Over the last few weeks, strong waves have repeatedly stripped away sand, broken through a boardwalk bulkhead and threatened to collapse beachside homes by clawing away the sand underneath them. All of this keeps happening in a narrow stretch of homes along the Peninsula, mostly between 62nd and 69th places.

Those few blocks are vulnerable to swells coming from the south because of an opening in the breakwater and jetty that allows boat access to Alamitos Bay.

In order to protect those homes, Long Beach typically builds a sand berm to block waves. When waves rip it away, the breakwater keeps it from washing out to sea, and it instead piles up to the west near downtown (a phenomenon called littoral drift.) The city spends $1 million to $1.5 million a year on trucking that sand back to the Peninsula and rebuilding the beach.

This year, it hasn’t been enough.

El Niño’s warm waters have supercharged high tides. That, combined with hurricane-driven waves coming up from the south, has stripped so much sand away from the Peninsula’s beach that the wooden bulkhead under the coastal boardwalk has been exposed.

At high tide, breakers now slap directly against the wood, repeatedly splintering it.

The city is hoping to soon start a $11.4 million dredging project to gather enough sand to rebuild the beach and protect the boardwalk, but that can’t happen while it’s getting pounded by the surf.

There may be some relief soon. Hurricane season in the eastern Pacific runs from mid-May through November. Hurricanes later in the year are much more likely to form in the western Pacific — as opposed to the southeast — and the federal breakwater that shields Long Beach’s harbor blunts the swells that originate from the west. That’s why much of California’s western coast may still see dangerous waves through the winter, though Long Beach is usually safe.

To bolster the Peninsula’s defenses, Long Beach is now considering a $6.8 million plan to build a rock revetment — a wall of boulders that would sit behind the beach as a backup.

This aerial view of the Peninsula was included in a city report on ways to replenish its sand.

(

City of Long Beach

/

via Long Beach Post

)

But for a long-term solution, officials say it may cost $150 million to $350 million for a full habitat and shoreline restoration — funded partly by state mitigation credits.

It’s the kind of project that would take massive amounts of approvals and planning and likely some delays. The city council, for now, has approved $30,000 to look into it further.

Not only has Gov. Gavin Newsom vocally opposed the proposed California billionaire tax, but he also wants to prevent the state from ever passing a wealth tax in the future.

On Friday he endorsed Proposition 42, a ballot measure that would cancel out Proposition 40, the proposed billionaire tax. Prop. 42 would prohibit retroactive taxes like the one-time 5% tax on assets that would apply to any billionaire who lived in California on Jan. 1, 2026, if Prop. 40 passes.

But Prop. 42, funded and placed on the ballot by billionaire and Google co-founder Sergey Brin to defeat the billionaire tax, also would go further, by banning any new taxes on personal property.

That includes pensions and 401K accounts before retirees start drawing retirement income from them. It also includes other investments, financial assets, business holdings, art collections and all other forms of personal wealth that would be affected by the billionaire tax or any future wealth tax.

Newsom’s decision to support Prop. 42 runs counter to his own Democratic Party and some labor unions. It also aligns him with some of the wealthy tech donors with whom he’s maintained longstanding relationships dating back to his days as mayor of San Francisco.

Proponents primarily argue that middle-class workers’ retirements and pension accounts should never be taxed as assets before the gains are later taxed a second time as income, even though there is no such proposal. Lawmakers have in the past proposed asset taxes but those bills went nowhere in the Legislature and any tax would require a two-thirds majority to pass. The proposed billionaire tax also exempts many kinds of retirement accounts.

“We all agree that Californians deserve to have their retirement and life savings protected from new state taxes so those savings are there when they need them,” Newsom said in a statement released by the proponents, who also include police and fire unions.

Proponents of the tax criticized his Prop. 42 endorsement as “in lock step with his billionaire backers.”

“By voting yes on Prop 42, he’s showing California his true colors,” said Debru Carthan, vice president of Service Employees International Union-United Healthcare Workers West in a statement. “He’d rather millions of children and families lose their healthcare than ask a couple hundred billionaires to finally pay their fair share.”

Newsom has not yet taken a position on Prop. 41, another Brin-backed, anti-billionaire measure that would nullify Prop. 40 by subjecting the tax revenues to certain state spending limits and audits, said spokesperson Izzy Gardon. The billionaire tax measure, funded by one healthcare union, would put 90% of the money it collects toward the state’s healthcare program for low-income residents, Medi-Cal.

Newsom, along with many other leading California Democrats and most Republicans, has vocally opposed the billionaire tax and tried to negotiate to keep it off the ballot. In general during his two terms as governor he has opposed state-level taxes on assets, out of concern the wealthy will leave the state and deprive the state of their income tax revenue.

But he has also sought to take advantage this year of a populist upswing and frustration toward tech billionaires ahead of his decision on whether to run for president after he leaves office. The California Democratic Party endorsed the billionaire tax and polling shows a slim majority of likely voters support it.

In response to the billionaire tax, Newsom this summer announced a proposal to impose a national tax on the wealthy, including a minimum tax rate on anyone with a net worth of more than $100 million. He also wants to undo corporate tax cuts that President Donald Trump and Congress approved in 2017, boost inheritance taxes and close loopholes the wealthy use to borrow from unrealized capital gains without paying income taxes.

Critics from the left have tried to use his Prop. 40 opposition against him. Last weekend as he rallied for the billionaire tax, Democratic California Rep. Ro Khanna, another possible 2028 presidential contender, said donor relations were the “only reason” for Newsom’s opposition.

“You can’t be anti-Trump and then do the bidding of Trump donors,” Khanna said in a video with progressive former congressional candidate Saikat Chakrabarti.

Khanna pointed to Brin, who has never donated to Newsom but has had a relationship with the governor for years. Newsom and Brin attended each other’s weddings. The tech magnate has recently also turned rightward, courting Trump’s favor.

Newsom announced his endorsement of Prop. 42 on Friday along with his positions on most of the 14 ballot measures Californians are deciding on.

He endorsed most measures on the ballot, but opposes Proposition 39, the Republican-backed voter ID measure; Proposition 43, a measure to make it more difficult to pass most local taxes; and Proposition 44, a health union-backed measure to dictate how much money clinics serving low-income patients must spend on patient care.

He hasn’t yet taken a position on Proposition 45, the business-backed measure that puts time limits on the environmental review process for new developments.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.

Vicki Rodriguez and her family gathered at Central Library in downtown Los Angeles in September — blocks from where they lived more than half a century ago — to see their lives on Bunker Hill portrayed by a famous painter they called “Mr. Politi.”

In the 1960s, Caldecott-winning artist Leo Politi painted the historic Bunker Hill neighborhood. Thousands of people were forced by eminent domain to relocate for the modernization plan known as the Bunker Hill Redevelopment Project. Politi, who had once lived there himself, took it upon himself to sketch, then paint, some of the houses that were soon to be demolished.

“I saw these beautiful mansions being torn down,” Politi told an interviewer at KCET in 1987, “and I says, ‘I just got to start drawing them and recording them,’ so I did a lot of studies up there, and when I finished, I did the book.”

"The Veranda" by Leo Politi in "Bunker Hill, Los Angeles: Reminiscences of Bygone Days". The drawing features Ruby and Julie.

(

A scan from the book.

)

In 1964, he published a selection of what he captured in a book, Bunker Hill Los Angeles: Reminiscences of Bygone Days. The beloved childhood home of Vicki and her family was featured in those paintings.

Watching Mr. Politi at work

Vicki, her sister Ruby Besing, and their cousin Julie Lendt remember playing outside the house they all lived in at 221 S. Bunker Hill Avenue and watching Politi sketch.

They didn’t know then that the friendly man with an easel and paints was a lauded artist. When they saw the finished product, they were thrilled to find that Politi called them “the last children on Bunker Hill.”

Photo taken in 1960 of 221 S. Bunker Hill Ave., where the Bruce family lived.

(

Historic American Buildings Survey

/

Courtesy Library of Congress

)

How Politi's art ended up at the library

In 1965, after displaying some of Politi’s paintings from the book, Central Library acquired 44 of his sketches and drawings for $3,000. Though collecting art isn’t typically part of the library’s mandate, librarians deemed the pictures of the now-leveled neighborhood to be of important historical value.

Vicki and her family — who relocated to Echo Park after being forced to move — learned a few years ago that several of the artworks had been put on display in the library’s children’s section.

But the picture of their family home at 221 S. Bunker Hill Avenue wasn’t one of them. It was housed in the library’s Special Collections.

The Bruce family has had a copy of Leo Politi's book on Bunker Hill for decades.

A copy of Politi’s book signed to Vicki and Ruby’s family is a prized possession.

(

Courtesy Ruby Besing

)

How the Bruce family came to Bunker Hill

Though Politi refers to the house in the book as belonging to their grandmother, it actually belonged to Vicki’s parents, Byron and Vaden Bruce, who’d grown up poor in Kentucky and moved west in the mid-1940s to Los Angeles in search of a better life.

Byron’s aunt, a preacher named Statia Mobley who ran a mission on Skid Row, married the couple in May 1946. They celebrated their wedding with a dinner at Clifton’s Cafeteria, a special treat that they indulged in on their anniversary each year after.

Vaden and Byron Bruce on their wedding day at Clifton’s Cafeteria in May 1946.

(

Courtesy Ruby Besing

)

Byron Bruce was a musician whose sight was limited. Since he couldn’t drive, Bunker Hill was the perfect launch point from which he could walk to the many bars and clubs that dotted the downtown landscape. He was also a smart businessperson who cobbled together the money to buy a few homes around the neighborhood, sliced into apartments, which he maintained for his tenants. Vaden worked for over 30 years in the administrative office at the Sears in Boyle Heights.

Vicki, Ruby and Julie all walked down the hill each day and through the 2nd Street tunnel to Fremont Elementary School.

Leaving Bunker Hill

As they played in the streets while Politi worked to capture them, they had no idea about the yearslong battle to level their neighborhood. The Bruces never troubled their children with the unfolding drama over its purchase by eminent domain. (Those who didn’t own their home — the majority of the people evicted from Bunker Hill — were forced out without any assistance.)

When they finally had to leave in the summer of 1963, their childhood on the hill became a cherished memory.

Vicki Rodriguez, Ruby Besing and Julie Lendt pose with a sketch they’d never seen from the Leo Politi Collection at Central Library

(

Lisa Napoli

/

LAist

)

For 30 years now, Vicki, who lives with her husband in Tujunga, has been a longtime secretary of my neighbor on the modern Bunker Hill — directly across the street from where the Bruce family once lived.

When he told me about Vicki’s roots in the neighborhood, I helped her connect with the library.

What the family found in the library's collection

Ruby Besing, librarian Ani Boyadjian, Julie Lendt and Vicki Rodriguez.

(

Lisa Napoli

/

LAist

)

In September, Vicki, Ruby, Julie, and Vicki’s son, Jeffrey, huddled around boxes of art as librarian Ani Boyadjian carefully opened the first. The very first piece she pulled out was one depicting their Bunker Hill Avenue home. But it wasn’t the picture Politi used in the book — it was another one that the family hadn’t known about.

Looking at paintings and sketches they didn’t know existed, these last children on Bunker Hill, now in their 60s and 70s, found themselves transported back in time to their beloved neighborhood — and flabbergasted to see how much attention Politi had paid them, even Ruby’s beloved childhood pet cat, Poncho.

“To our knowledge, there were only the two paintings in the book. And then at the library, we see there are something like 15 sketches and paintings, renderings of the house we’d never seen before,” Vicki said after the visit. “It blew me away. Seeing this artwork was a dream come true.”

There's a new film club in town. Think burlesque, with a dose of Mystery Science Theater 3000, and the vibe of a Rocky Horror Picture Show midnight screening — and you’ve got Sh—ty Movie Club.

Kinda.

Founder Shadie Elnashai calls his epic hangs “movie parties.” They began as get-togethers among friends in 2019, where drinking games or movie bingo are part of the experience. Since then, screenings have been held in Cairo, Tokyo and Sydney. In Los Angeles, ticketed events started in late August at venues like Clifton’s — all in celebration of films with a certain flavor.

Gems like The Apple, the over-the-top sci-fi biblical musical from 1980 where an evil music label controls the world — in the futuristic year 1994.

Or Ninja Terminator, a Hong Kong martial arts flick that its director stitched together using original footage and those from another existing film. No one at his screening, Elnashai said, was any the wiser, until he stopped the movie midway and told them.

"We actually don't use the word 'bad'. Sh—ty movie to me is awesome. It's entertaining, it's earnest, it's genuine," said Elnashai, who studied film in college. "Some people still hate it, don't get me wrong.  "

Audience members showing off their "Niu Lai"-inspired outfits.

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

What a Sh—ty Movie Club screening is like

I got a taste of that joy and reverence, along with some 200 people at Clifton’s in downtown L.A., at a recent screening of the viral Chinese animated film Liu Nai.

The coming-of-age tale of a baby cow was made by a mother and son with zero film or animation experience — and it looked it. Those very bush-league qualities helped it go viral. The film went on to gross $9 million at the Chinese box office against a budget of under $200.

A hand-drawn poster advertising the film "Niu Lai", which translates to "Here Comes the Cow", is seen at a cinema in Beijing on August 21, 2026.

(

PEDRO PARDO

/

Getty Images

)

Before the movie: Posters, jokes and a cow striptease 

I had read about the movie, but was never curious enough to try and see it, until I saw a social post for the screening.

At Sh—ty Movie Club, the film is the main course, with a full menu built around it. First comes a preshow that features a show-and-tell of homemade film posters by audience members (a nod to what happened in China), a call-out for bovine jokes, and, between gags, cow-related video clips (including a McDonald’s infomercial from Hong Kong) Elnashai compiled runs in the background. The indisputable climax belongs to the long, slow striptease by a woman dressed in a full cow costume.

“Each screening's a little different,” said Elnashai, whose day job is curating entertainment for private and corporate events, adding that he typically readies a few dozens assets — clips, jokes, gags — for each club screening. “There’s so much prep that goes into it.” 

Founder Shadie Elnashai designed a drinking game specifically for the screening of the viral Chinese cow movie "Niu Lai."

(

Fiona Ng

/

LAist

)

Talking back to the screen is encouraged 

The Chinese viral cow movie itself is screened from a bootleg probably taped inside a movie theater (the film isn't in U.S. theaters or on streamers) — with jagged angles and a Chinese QR code that ricochets across to boot. Somehow, it all feels very on point.

Audiences are encouraged to talk at the movie, to chant “rewind” for an instant replay, and to abandon themselves to the film — odd but uniquely singular in its aesthetics — in the good-natured company of so many others.

“There's no rule book,” Elnashai said of many of the films screened at the club. “Each one is completely, beautifully different. Experiencing that all together is so fun for me to watch.”