Vincenzo’s Pizza Bushey | The Best Pizza in London Is Local (thank God)

I’ll declare it in the first line and save you the suspense: Vincenzo’s is my favourite pizza in London, by some distance, and I count myself extremely lucky that the Bushey branch is essentially down the road from me.

I’ve eaten my way around a lot of the capital’s much-hyped pizzerias, the wood-fired temples, the Neapolitan purists, the places with a queue and an attitude, and Vincenzo’s is the one I keep going back to.

Not out of convenience, though the convenience is a genuine gift. Out of preference.

This is a proper review, so I’ll explain exactly why, the style, the chilli sauce I’m mildly obsessed with, the one thing that genuinely frustrates me about the Bushey site, and why I think it’s only getting better.

But the headline is simple. If you’re in Bushey, or anywhere near it, and you like thin, crisp, properly made NYC pizzas, you should be eating here.

Here’s the first thing that makes Vincenzo’s different, and I mean this as a compliment: getting your hands on the pizza feels like a game.

When you know there’s only a limited number of pizzas going out, every order becomes a small mission, refresh, time it right, get your slot before they’re gone.

Some people will find that maddening.

I find it brilliant.

Scarcity does something to food that marketing never can: it makes you pay attention. There’s a particular satisfaction in actually securing your pizza when you know plenty of people won’t, a tiny hit of victory before you’ve even taken a bite.

It also tells you something reassuring about the place. They’re not pumping out an infinite conveyor belt of mediocre dough to hit a number. There’s a ceiling, and the ceiling is there because they care what leaves the kitchen. That’s the trade, and it’s one I’ll happily make every single time.

Now the important part. The pizza itself is thin, crispy, and seriously tasty, and crucially, it leans far more New York than Naples. That distinction matters, because London has spent the last decade in the grip of the Neapolitan orthodoxy: the soft, wet, leopard-spotted, fold-it-because-you-have-to base that half the city treats as the only legitimate form of pizza.

I like a good Neapolitan.

But I’ve always quietly preferred the New York school, thinner, crisper, structurally sound, a base with a bit of backbone rather than a puddle in the middle, and Vincenzo’s scratches exactly that itch.

You get a slice that actually holds its shape, a crust with real crunch, and toppings that taste of themselves rather than drowning. It’s the sort of pizza you can eat properly, without cutlery, without apology, the way pizza is supposed to be eaten. In a city overrun with soggy centres, a genuinely crisp, New-York-leaning pizza in Bushey feels almost radical.

I devoured mine with none other than a bottle from BBR of the Good Ordinary Claret

I need a whole section for this, because it’s become non-negotiable for me. Vincenzo’s KICK chilli sauce is outrageously good, and it does something wonderful to the pizza. It’s not there to set your face on fire or prove a point, the way so many “hot” sauces are. It’s genuinely tasty, with real flavour behind the heat, and it works in perfect partnership with the crisp base and the toppings rather than bullying them.

A little drizzle and the whole thing lifts: more depth, more warmth, more of everything you wanted. I’m the sort of person who now can’t imagine ordering here without it. If you’re visiting for the first time, get the KICK. Trust me. It’s the difference between a very good pizza and one you’ll be thinking about the next day.

Right, my one genuine frustration, and it’s a real one. Bushey doesn’t sell by the slice. London does.

And I’m honestly a bit gutted about it. There’s something perfect about a New-York-style pizza sold by the slice, it’s the natural format for this style, the grab-a-slice, eat-it-on-your-feet, come-back-for-another rhythm that suits crisp thin crust so well.

Knowing the Shoreditch site do it and we don’t makes it sting a little more, like we’re missing out on part of the experience the pizza was practically built for.

I understand every site is different and there are doubtless good operational reasons. But as a Bushey loyalist? Please. Give us slices.

I would be first in the queue, every time, and I suspect I wouldn’t be alone. Consider this my formal, slightly pleading petition.

Here’s the part that makes me most optimistic, and most keen to wish the team well. Tom keeps heading to New York to learn, going back again and again to pick up newer techniques and flavours from the people doing it best over there.

I love that.

It’s the opposite of coasting. Plenty of places find a formula that works and then quietly stop trying; the pizza slowly gets a little worse while the prices slowly get a little higher, and everyone pretends not to notice.

Vincenzo’s is doing the reverse, actively going to the source, staying curious, bringing new ideas home. That’s exactly why the New York character of the pizza rings true rather than borrowed: someone is genuinely putting in the miles to understand it. So all the best to Tom and the team, honestly. Keep going to New York. Keep learning. Keep bringing it back to Bushey. It’s working, and it’s the reason I’m confident this place will only get better.

Yes. Immediately, and then repeatedly.

If you like thin, crisp, New-York-leaning pizza with proper flavour, made by people who clearly care enough to cap what they produce and keep travelling to improve it, this is, for my money, the best pizza in London, and I’m lucky enough to have it on my doorstep in Bushey.

Time your order, embrace the little thrill of getting a slot, and do not, under any circumstances, skip the KICK chilli sauce. My only complaint is the lack of slices, and I’d happily be proven wrong on that tomorrow. Everything else?

Spot on.

Is Vincenzo’s Pizza in Bushey any good?

In my opinion it’s the best pizza in London, and the Bushey branch is my local favourite. The pizza is thin, crisp and more New York than Naples, with genuinely flavourful toppings and a standout house chilli sauce.

What style of pizza does Vincenzo’s do?

Thin, crispy and closer to New York style than Neapolitan, a base with real crunch and structure rather than a soft, wet centre. If you prefer a crisp slice you can eat by hand, this is the style for you.

What should I order at Vincenzo’s Bushey?

A classic pizza plus the KICK chilli sauce, which is my must-order. It’s tasty rather than just hot, and it lifts the whole pizza.

Does Vincenzo’s Bushey sell pizza by the slice?

From my experience, the Bushey branch doesn’t sell by the slice, though the London site do, which, as a Bushey regular, I’d dearly love to see change.

Why does Vincenzo’s sell out of pizza?

They make a limited number, which is part of the appeal, it means quality over volume, but it also means it pays to order early and grab your slot before they’re gone.

BY VIM, EDITOR OF 12×75. A personal review based on my own repeat visits. I wasn’t asked or paid to write it, I just really like the pizza.