There are few things more unifying and, oddly enough, divisive in this town than pizza.

In Youngstown, pizza isn’t just dinner. It’s a love language. A debate sport. A weekly ritual. A personality trait. We take our slices seriously — but thankfully, not ourselves.

And before we get into all the saucy styles our town has to offer, let me start with a confession. One that might shock you.

Here’s the truth: when I was a little girl, if my family had pizza night — I cried. Actual tears. That’s right. I didn’t just dislike pizza… I hated it. (Same with pancakes, but that’s a whole other emotional carb story.)

Now, to be fair, unlike the cube steak I once had to sit in front of for hours after everyone else had cleared their plates and moved on with their lives, my family didn’t force me to eat the cheesy, tomatoey deliciousness that is a slice of pizza. They honestly didn’t care. Well… maybe they were slightly concerned that I had turned my back on what is arguably one of the greatest culinary inventions of all time.

I mean, this is a meal that can effortlessly go from Friday night dinner to Saturday morning cold-from-the-fridge breakfast. (Don’t even lie. We’ve all done it.)

But something shifted. Somewhere along the line, the pizza-hating little girl grew into a woman who — wait for it– can now put away an entire brick oven pizza with zero shame, zero guilt and full-on bliss. That crisp crust with just the right amount of char, a golden bubble of cheese here and there, maybe a few roasted veggies or classic pepperoni? Perfection. That’s my favorite style. Hands down.

And what’s beautiful about Youngstown is that everyone has their own pizza truth.

Some swear by Brier Hill — a pizza so fiercely loved it has its own following. We’re talking thick crust, tangy sauce, romano cheese, and sweet bell peppers. If this pizza had a campaign slogan, it would be “Make Tomato Sauce Sweet Again.” And you either love it… or you don’t dare say otherwise in public.

Others are die-hard fans of the bakery-style sheet pizza, with that soft, chewy crust that somehow makes grease feel comforting. And of course, we’ve got our pepperoni cup purists, thin crust truthers, and those brave souls trying to convince their in-laws that chicken bacon ranch pizza counts as real pizza. (Hey, live your truth.)

The thing is, just like pizza, Youngstown people come in all flavors.

We’re bold and mild. We’re spicy and sweet. We’ve got traditionalists and adventurers, deep dish defenders and no-sauce rebels. And even though we love a good debate — crust edge vs. center cut, sweet sauce vs. savory, triangle vs. square — we still sit at the same table.

Because at the end of the day, pizza brings us together. We may not agree on toppings (pineapple, anyone? My boy’s new fave), but we’ll pass the parmesan, offer you a slice, and tell you which local spot is our go-to after a long day or a big game.

So here’s to the pizza haters who became lovers. The cold pizza for breakfast believers. The “I’ll just have one slice” liars. The square-cut loyalists. And yes, even the folks still hanging on to their anti-pizza stance — I see you. Respect.

This one goes out to my friend who suggested I write about pizza. I didn’t know how much I’d love diving into the sauce and spirit of it all. You gave me a topic that was more than crust and cheese — it was connection.

To you all, this is from me to you.