Craving pizza while cruising the Mother Road? You’re not alone—and luckily, Route 66 isn’t just a road trip through Americana, it’s a saucy, cheesy scavenger hunt. From Provel-curious pies in St. Louis to green chile slices in Albuquerque, this legendary highway serves up more than just nostalgia and neon. So if your road trip playlist includes the sweet sound of bubbling mozzarella, here are the must-stop spots for a slice of the strange, the classic, and the wonderfully offbeat.
Illinois: The OG Thin-Crust at Lucca Grill (Bloomington)
First stop: Illinois, the land of Abe Lincoln, deep-dish debates, and Lucca Grill—a 1936 legend where the pizza crust is so thin you’ll question its physical presence. This joint is a time capsule wrapped in checkered tablecloths, with pies that crunch like autumn leaves underfoot. The tavern-style cut means squares, not slices—because in Illinois, geometry is deliciously flexible.
Pair it with a cold beer and imagine yourself in a black-and-white photograph, except with more cheese.
Missouri: Provel or Bust at Imo’s Pizza (St. Louis)
Next up: St. Louis, where the locals put Provel on their pizza and dare you to love it. Imo’s is the mothership of this regional rebel pie—think wafer-thin crust, sweet-ish sauce, and that gooey, smoky, Provel cheese (a processed ménage à trois of provolone, Swiss, and cheddar).
It’s weird. It’s wonderful. It’s aggressively midwestern. You’ll either become a convert or spend the rest of the trip debating its legitimacy with strangers at gas stations.
Kansas: Tiny State, Big Flavor at Bricks & Brews (Baxter Springs)
Kansas claims only a sliver of the Mother Road, but it packs in the flavor. Bricks & Brews is a wood-fired gem with pies that blister beautifully at high heat. Picture a crust that’s equal parts chewy and charred, topped with local ingredients and baked like it means it.
Plus, it’s in a town that looks like a vintage postcard. Expect locals, laughter, and maybe someone telling you about the time Bonnie and Clyde passed through.
Oklahoma: Punk Rock Pies at Empire Slice House (Tulsa)
In Tulsa’s Meadow Gold district, named for the glowing neon dairy sign that watches over you like a retro deity, Empire Slice Shop serves up slices with swagger. It’s pizza meets punk rock: bold flavors, loud décor, and names like “Notorious P.I.G.” and “Joezilla.”
The crust is New York-style, but the attitude is all Oklahoma. And if you’re not full after a slice the size of a license plate, you’re doing it wrong.
Texas: 575° of Fiery Perfection in Amarillo
Amarillo may be better known for 72-ounce steak challenges, but those in the know veer slightly off 66 for 575° Pizzeria. The name is a nod to the oven temp—and boy, does it deliver. Expect airy yet structured crusts with that holy grail: the leopard-spot char.
It’s artisanal, but unpretentious. Texan, but not Tex-Mex. Order the Truffled Shuffle or the Local Yocal and toast to the open road with a craft beer and zero regrets.
New Mexico: Green Chile Dreams at Dion’s Pizza (Albuquerque)
You haven’t really been to New Mexico until you’ve eaten something smothered in green chile—and yes, that includes pizza. At Dion’s, a local institution with fast-casual vibes and cult-level loyalty, you can customize your pie and throw some of that magical green fire right on top.
The crust is solid, the sauce is tangy, and the toppings? Let’s just say this is where “enchanted” becomes edible.
Arizona: Station 66 Italian Bistro (Williams)
Williams is the last town bypassed by the interstate—but don’t call it a relic. Station 66 is a stylish little haunt with wood-fired pizzas and serious Grand Canyon gateway vibes. Housed in a historic service station (of course), it’s got outdoor seating, wine flights, and pies that toe the line between Neapolitan and Americana.
Grab a Margherita and watch the sun paint the red rocks golden. This is pizza with a view and a backstory.
California: Old Hollywood Pie at Casa Bianca (Los Angeles)
You’ve made it to California—land of movie stars, mystics, and some truly excellent pizza. Casa Bianca, in the charming Eagle Rock neighborhood, has been slinging pies since 1955. It’s the kind of old-school, red-sauce joint where time slows down, garlic hangs heavy in the air, and nobody cares about your gluten sensitivity.
The crust is crispy, the cheese is molten, and the sausage is homemade. Get there early—it’s cash-only, lines out the door, and 100% worth it.
