Detroit pizza is America at its most gloriously excessive and I mean that as the highest compliment. It was born in the auto factories, baked in blue steel pans originally used to hold small parts on the assembly line. The cheese — Wisconsin brick cheese, specifically — gets pushed right to the edges where it hits the hot metal and caramelizes into this absolutely obscene, crispy, lacey cheese crown. The sauce goes ON TOP, in racing stripes. It breaks every Italian rule and it doesn't care. It's industrial, it's punk rock, and it might be the best square of pizza on the planet.

Right, this is proper pizza, yeah? None of that thick, doughy, overloaded nonsense — just beautiful San Marzano tomatoes, gorgeous fresh mozzarella, and a handful of basil from the garden. The secret is getting your oven absolutely screaming hot. I'm talking as hot as it'll go, mate. Whack it on a pizza stone and in eight minutes you've got this incredible, blistered, slightly charred beauty that'll make you wonder why you ever ordered delivery. Dead simple, dead delicious.