Which Crust Does the South End Trust?

Outside of the Blue Angels screaming through the sky during Seafair, there may be no more polarizing topic among South Seattle residents than debating pizza superiority.

I've watched the most zen, yoga-by-candlelight-amid-I-5-traffic, peace-loving souls instantly devolving into feral cannibals when someone dares to declare a different favorite than their own.

But here comes the heartbreak, and the risk of sacrilegious pizza blasphemy I know I'm courting: The best pizza place in the South End is Pizzeria Pulcinella.

Yes, I work in the ring with you all, taste buds at the ready, but I say this with the solemn gravitas of someone who's tried themall (or at least most) and lived to taste again.

A Tour of the South End Pizza Battlegrounds

Let's be fair: There are many contenders for best pizza. Some worthy, some charming, some ... questionable.

Let's take a stroll through the field of dough and sauce.

Paranormal Pie (Rainier Beach)

This spot tries to lean bold: Yelp reviews suggest it's the "best deep dish pizza in the south end!" (Though that same review concedes the crust was hard and the flavor bland in other orders.)

There's ambition, and there's character, but deep dish in Seattle's South End feels like a pizza in a tuxedo: mismatched, overreaching, occasionally charming.

Paranormal Pie's "gyro veggie" slice gets applause, but consistency lags.

Post Pike Georgetown (Georgetown)

A newer kid on the block (it opened summer 2024) that promises "delicious pizza, neighborhood bar vibes." I'll admit: for folks in Georgetown, it's a seductive option. But it's not yet an old soul. I tried a slice; the crust was eager, though the spirit was still finding itself. For now, good, but not better.

Pagliacci Pizza (Columbia City)

The crust faithful: You won't find wild gambles here; you'll find safe, reliable, comforting. It's like that friendly neighbor who never complains, but also never surprises you. Not bad! Just not revolutionary.

Stevie's Famous Pizza in Clock-Out Lounge (Beacon Hill)

A beloved local haunt with character and heart (and Instagrammable pies), but word of mouth also brings frequent caveats: "great ambiance, sometimes hit or miss on bake." Its social media shows passion. But passion without consistency is just winging it with toppings.

Eyman's Halal Pizza (Beacon Hill)

Halal spice meets pizza ambition. Unique and admirable. But it leans on novelty more than on crust mastery. A solid fallback when you're craving something spicy and different, not the apex.

Pizzuto's (Seward Park)

It aims for homey, hearty, comforting. Its pies have loyal fans in Seward Park. But for the crust-obsessed, they sometimes feel a little ... flat. A lovable aunt's cooking rather than a Michelin-level obsession.

Best of the Rest

I could absolutely launch into a full TED Talk complete with charts, graphs, and maybe a melodramatic monologue about each of these spots, but we all have lives to live. So here's the quick-and-dirty rundown before my editor cuts me off mid-slice.

• A.K. Pizza: solid, under the radar, but it lacks a defining signature.

• Tutta Bella: ambitious and well-branded, though its charm leans toward the polished more than the heartfelt.

• Georgetown Pizza & Arcade: square pizzas (17-inch full, 12-inch half) and arcade vibes. It's fun. But fun ≠ transcendence.

• Jackson Street and Castello: neighborhood staples, beloved in niche pockets.

• Proletariat Pizza: scrappy, underground energy. I wish it were bigger, bolder, and more consistent.

Look, they've all got their shining moments (like the one good photo in a dating profile), but let's be real, none of them is the one.

Why Pulcinella Reigns (In My Mouth)

Allow me to prophesy: No place in the South End achieves the acid-kissed, char-blistered perfection of Pulcinella's Neapolitan approach. It's earnest. It's tender. It's uncompromising.

Pulcinella is "certified Neapolitan," meaning it adheres to the strict standards of the Verace Pizza Napoletana Association. It brags: "baked in 70–90 secs in a Valoriani wood-fired oven."

I've eaten it, and, yes, you nearly believe an angel is whispering to your palate. The crust puffs into soft, blistered halos; the sauce balances sweet tomato and salt so delicately you wonder how one could misstep.

But it's not just pizza technique. There's a human fabric here. The kind of place where servers know your name (if you go often enough). Where the vibe leans warm, not showy.

As server Avery Clark confided to me: "People keep going back to it over and over again. I see the same regulars every Monday through Friday. It's a good vibe. Besides the service, I would say the best thing about this place is the Neapolitan pizza for sure. They do it traditionally. Our boss still goes back to Italy all the time."

Pulcinella isn't out here begging for attention or staging a crust-influencer moment. It just shows up, does its job flawlessly, and lets the flavor speak, like, "Yeah, I don't need a PR team. I've got mozzarella." It's giving calm, capable, and a little bit smug, and it's earned it. Also, when I take a bite of this pizza, it is as if heaven has erupted in my mouth. My taste buds ascend.

For the roughly 15 minutes it takes me to finish, the world feels more stable, or at least more tolerable. (Yes, I measure pizza enjoyment in existential time units.)

Final Slice

Look, pizza is subjective. Taste is personal. Maybe your inner voice hears the siren call of deep-dish, or New York–foldable, or something wild, like pineapple and anchovy. Fine. I won't snatch that slice from you. But I will tell you this: If you haven't been to Pulcinella, you don't get to claim a real South End favorite yet. That's like saying you've read all the great novels but skipped Beloved.

So here's my challenge to all the skeptics, the "actually, I like my crust thicker/cheesier/chaotically stuffed" crowd: Walk into Pulcinella on an empty stomach, take one bite, close your eyes — and then try to tell me you regret it. Go ahead. I'll wait. If you do, I'll personally buy you an entire pizza at Domino's. Which, let's be honest, might just prove my point.

But until then, as the rabid (but still metaphorical) pizza enthusiast I am, I declare: Pizzeria Pulcinella is the GOAT of the South End. If you argue, you will be politely but firmly escorted to the pizza cellar for a taste-off. (Consider this your fair warning.)

Now, go. Eat. Judge. And then come back and concede.

Disagree with our pick? Try these South End pizzerias to decide for yourself.

Compiled by Skyler Smalls

That's Amore Italian Cafe
Mount Baker: 1425 31st Ave. S.

Mioposto Pizzeria
Mount Baker: 3601 S. McClellan St.

Castello Pizza & Pasta
Mount Baker: 3756 Rainier Ave. S.

Outsider Pizza
North Beacon Hill: 1612 S. Lander St.

Bar del Corso
North Beacon Hill: 3057 Beacon Ave. S.

Stevie's Famous
Beacon Hill Beacon Hill: 4864 Beacon Ave. S.

Eyman's Halal Pizza & Cafe
Beacon Hill: 6711 MLK Jr. Way S.

Pagliacci Pizza
Columbia City: 4901 Rainier Ave. S.

Tutta Bella Neapolitan Pizzeria
Columbia City: 4918 Rainier Ave. S.

Seward Park Pizza Company
Seward Park: 4920 S Genesee St.

Pizzuto's
Seward Park: 5032 Wilson Ave. S.

Paranormal Pie
Rainier Beach: 9435 Rainier Ave. S.

Pizzeria Pulcinella
Rainier Beach: 10003 Rainier Ave. S.

Marcus Harrison Green is the South Seattle Emerald's editor-at-large.