This tight spot on Northfield Avenue — in which the oven takes up around 60 percent of the room and the smell of charring dough circles like a benevolent spirit — is continuing to flex its house specials in a takeaway only setting: King prawns and pancetta hang out on a ricotta canvas, while speck, porcini, and gorgonzola put umami treble on the superb base.

Santa Maria has been at or near the top best-pizza-in-London lists for so long now, co-owners Pasquale Chionchio and Angelo Ambrosia should be paying rent. The pizza, like Santa Maria’s incredibly demanding co-owners, is Neapolitan to the core, its deceptively fragile crust holding up to pressure, from the San Marzano tomatoes as well as one’s eager fingers. Branches in Chelsea and Fitzrovia now open, too.

This three-wheeled pizzeria still rests on the four legs of the inseparable pizzaioli Michele Pascarella and Paolo Cimmino — colleagues at Sartori, on Great Newport St, before they hit the road, but it’s no longer a roving truck. Having set up shop in Chiswick, it’s still the best spot in London to try the fashionable pizza canotto (“dinghy”), so-called due to its inflated rim. At first it looks as if the dough were powered on steroids, not yeast, but this stunning street pizza is still built on lots of hydration, patience, know-how and love in its new, off-street home. The crust is as soft and airy as a cloud.

The legendary Naples pizzeria licensed this large, splashy branch in the old central London ‘hood of Sherlock Holmes after an ill-fated first opening in Stoke Newington. For the classic margherita, the tomato and mozzarella is the same as in Naples and so is the famous stretch: Pulled and pinched over a wooden paddle, the base becomes so thin you can practically see through it. A minute in the oven for a charred, misshapen pizza too big for its plate or its box. This rustic randomness is the essence of the Da Michele experience.

On Lavender Hill in Battersea sits one of the finest pizzerias in the city. Pellone respects the classics with the care of an antiquarian, but the stars are the white pizza with mortadella and a pizza with yellow tomatoes, simple enticing ideas that complement the beautifully puffed cornicione and long fermented dough. —Feroz Gajia

Italian and English are not so much spoken as shouted at Bravi Ragazzi. This boisterous slice of Naples isn’t for everyone and maybe that’s a lucky thing: It’s already hard enough to get a table. The rustic, leopard-spotted crust of pizza can be so light it’s a wonder it doesn’t collapse under the pressure of its moist toppings. But weightlessness in a Neapolitan pizza is a reflection of strength.

The image and imprint of pizza superstar Ciro Salvo pervade the new Trafalgar Square branch of his Naples pizzeria and, with them, the real possibility — if not always the promise — of London’s best pizza ever. The raw materials for greatness are there: Ciro’s dough yields an incomparably light, supple crust, the base for world-class sourcing and baking technique. But building a Westminster team of pizzaioli that can make it his way, at all times, could prove a challenge. One of the beautiful artichoke and capocollo pizzas recently served fell flat on the edges, lacking the air-pocketed border one expects to see framing a Ciro Salvo pizza. It was good enough, which is to say, not quite good enough. When Ciro or a trusted sidekick are in London to stretch the 50 Kalò (“good dough” in Neapolitan slang), even a pizza as basic as a Marinara, with only tomato, oregano, garlic and extra virgin olive oil, is a thrill ride. Soaring flavours held aloft by a magic carpet woven with flour, yeast and water.

Kimchi, porcini cream and basil. Aubergine, cauliflower cheese, spinach, and harissa. Spiced lamb, savoy cabbage and sumac yoghurt. Dorothy, it looks like we’re not in Margheritaville anymore. Homeslice is the original and unapologetically cheffy pizzeria, founded by street food warrior Ry Jessup — who has now left the business — and restaurant insider Mark Wogan. It isn’t only the cosmopolitan toppings that stretch the boundaries of Italian pizza. With 20-inch bases, the pizzas are made for sharing. Multiple venues.

The secret to the magically fluffy and aromatic crust at ‘O Ver is ostensibly purified seawater in the dough, but really it was the skill and perfectionism of pizza baker Marino Bove, who has now left the business. Thankfully, his directive to tear open the crust and direct the nose into the steaming fluff before taking a bite holds up, and two signature pizzas belong on everyone’s bucket list: The Paloma, with smoked mozzarella, chiodini mushrooms and pancetta arrotolata; and the Sorrento, with mozzarella, lemon zest, Sicilian Vesuvio yellow cherry tomatoes, black pepper, and fresh basil. Now with a second location in St. James’s.

The shortage of qualified pizza makers in London is a boon to the appetites of Oi Vita devotees, if not to the home life of co-owner Nicola Apicella. He is a fixture at the forno, shaping beautifully airy pizzas layered with the finest traditional ingredients. His cheese-dusted calzone may be stuffed and covered with assorted cheeses and salumi, in the Neapolitan manner, but this exceptional folded pizza is as un-heavy as they come.

This is not L’Antica Pizzeria di Michele, nor does it need to be. Previously embroiled in a naming scandal, Vicoli di Napoli has forged out on its own to produce pizza that can match its illustrious forerunner. It’s added modest specials and meat options to the previously either/or menu, but the margherita is the one to get most times out of ten. —Feroz Gajia

Even as it expands, Yard Sale, first and foremost a takeaway outfit, remains devoted to its mix of the virtuous and the “dirty.” Options like gluten-free dough and vegan cheese share menu space with Rib Man Holy F**K sauce. Its thin-crusted flexi pizzas, from the TSB (tender-stem broccoli) to the Holy Pepperoni, are blanketed with marvellously melty mozzarella. Multiple locations.

Bravi Ragazzi pizzaiolo and co-founder Andrea Asciuti has moved a little north from Streatham to open 081 in Peckham Levels, adding Neapolitan “tapas” to the menu and moving the vibe about 30 years forward in time. But the pneumatic corniciones and weightless middles are still the draw, with the central dough sometimes appearing to hold its toppings in suspended animation.

One for the pizza devotees: Mike Gregory has bought his pies, formerly at The Crown Greenwich, to The Pelton, in the same area. One peerless pizza of his is the American Psycho, which consists of San Marzano tomato, mozzarella, Ventricina salami, Roquito peppers, Moon chilli honey and fresh basil layered over a light, puffy, Neapolitan base. The same chilli honey is drizzled over Wandercrust’s four cheese pizza with mozzarella, ricotta, gorgonzola, and pecorino.