Glasgow's pizzas: a highly subjective but absolutely definitive ranking

The best pizza of my life was also the most stressful. The crush of tourists had gathered on a narrow street at lunchtime, sky blue Napoli bunting draped over scaffolding above our heads. Barely visible, wedged between graffitied hoarding boards, the sculpted gold lettering read ‘Sorbillo’. Affixed pride of place to the left of the entrance, above pictures of its owner with Italian celebrities, was a Michelin plaque, somewhat incongruous with its surroundings.

Joining the hundred or so people jostling to eat a pie from Gino Sorbillo, one of the world’s most acclaimed pizzaiolos, was deeply uncomfortable, anxiety-inducing, and quite frankly, a bit embarrassing. But somehow, the hour plus wait was worth it. A marinara or plain margherita here, at one of pizza’s most hallowed haunts, cost less than a fiver in 2023, although we opted to pay a bit more for mozzarella di bufala. Both were an exercise in the codes of simplicity and high-quality ingredients that govern Italian cuisine. Type 00 flour, tomatoes grown in the shadow of Vesuvius, mozzarella, a few sprigs of basil, a sprinkle of salt. Startlingly simple; close to perfection.  

Not long after the Naples trip, I went back to Paesano to studiously compare the difference. Expectedly, it wasn’t as good as anything I’d had in Italy, but the surprise was that it wasn’t really that far off. I was taken aback by how high the standards in the UK were relative to Naples; what I expected to be a gulf of difference was merely a gap, and a closing one at that.

Pizza has long been entrenched in Glasgow; the Italian-Scottish identity ought to be a category on the census, given the unique community and cultural impact that has emerged from successive waves of Italian migration to the country from the late 19th century onwards. Italian Scots innovated in food more than anything, pushing forward our cuisine and leaving a lasting legacy on the cultural landscape. 

While Italian-run gelateria, delis, chippies and pasta restaurants thrived in Glasgow, pizza faded into the background somewhat, rather than becoming a standout dish. One tradizioni napoletane we did pick up and run with, starting in East Kilbride, was the pizza crunch — the yin to pizza fritta’s yang: a true culinary innovation the likes of which Italy had never seen before. The point I’m making is we didn’t treat pizza as something worthy of praise and adulation, perhaps because many of Glasgow’s Italian-Scots have their roots in Tuscany — a region better known for bistecca alla Fiorentina, pappardelle and tortellini than pizza. 

That’s all changed in the last 10 years; a few plucky upstarts have entered the scene, many of them bringing with them a more traditional (and codified) method of pizza-making, often according to Neapolitan regulations. Where once Di Maggio’s and Sarti’s ruled Glasgow’s pizza and pasta roost, today it's Paesano and Sugo. These (originally) independent restaurants turned pizza into an event; food bloggers travel from miles away to try the city’s pies. Staid chains like Prezzo and Pizza Express have folded while Paesano and Sugo are expanding. But all empires must fall, and those who were once underdogs now face their own challengers.

Given a hungry dog could compile a better list than TripAdvisor’s current Glasgow top ten, we thought we’d point you in the direction of some highs and lows. This isn’t an exhaustive list, more of a run down of the runners and riders with special attention paid to places the writer feels have been overhyped. Let’s start with the flops and work our way up.  

9. Civerinos

Supposedly one of the best pizzerias… in the world (!). I have two questions however. Time Out: have you been inhaling oven fumes? Secondly, Civerinos: how much are you spending on PR and marketing? More than on your food budget, by the looks and taste of things. 

The Edinburgh-based company was started by Michele Civiera in 2014 after selling a rare sneaker collection, or so the lore goes. Despite being born in Italy, the inspiration came not from the motherland, but pizza’s other mecca: New York. Sadly, after a strong opening gambit, it’s all been downhill for Civis since they expanded across Edinburgh, opened in Finnieston in 2023, and announced plans for more locations across the UK. Pre-pandemic, when I was in the capital and passing by Forrest Road, I’d pop in for a slice or two as tourists milled about outside eating off of paper plates, snapping selfies with their vegan slices. Recently, I took a friend to the original spot on Hunter Square. It’s all pink and chequered interior with “graffiti” finishes, skateboards mounted on the walls and framed copies of Thrasher mag. If that makes it sound edgy, it’s not — it’s painfully wearisome. As tourists appeared to enjoy their pepperonis and cokes, I was hit with a profound melancholy as I made my way through one of the blandest margs of my life — no by-the-slice here, it was whole pizza or go home, each bite of drab dough a chore. Do yourself a favour, ignore the noise — there’s better pizza to be had elsewhere. 

Verdict: Hard miss. How the mightily hyped have fallen. 

8. Frank’s 

I’m not sure what New Yorkers would have to say about what’s been branded as Glasgow’s premier New York style pizzeria. Probably nothing printable. Frank’s opened in Finnieston in 2021, and now has two more locations in Dennistoun and Battlefield. It’s owned by John Blaen (also part-owner of Hide & Seek bar), who appears to take a more active role, alongside business partner Craig Concannon. It’s been feted as one of Glasgow’s top pizza spots and is so popular that last year, its pepperoni pizza ranked as one of the 20 most ordered dishes in the world, according to Deliveroo. Perhaps the fact a lot of Frank’s slices are being consumed after a journey in a delivery courier’s bag keeps expectations low, because I found it nothing much to write home about. There’s no amount of Simpsons artwork and pug branding that can convince me otherwise. 

My big mistake was to order an off-menu marinara — which wasn't actually on the menu. Regardless, a marinara is a staple dish, one that you might expect any pizzeria should be able to make, if not well, then at least to a satisfactory degree. What I didn’t expect was what I saw upon opening the box for a quick glance before I cycled home. The extent of my off-menu marinara was insipid sauce on dough, literally nothing else. No garlic, no oregano, no olive oil, seemingly no salt either. Just some pureered tomatoes splattered on a plain base. It was practically in the scud, so I quickly closed the box to hide its state of undress from passersby.