14 New York All-You-Can-Eat Buffets With Pizza Stations That Run The Show

Picture this: you walk in hungry, the scent of crusty dough spinning in ovens overwhelming your senses before you even hit the seafood bar.

Every buffet claims variety, but these fourteen stand out because their pizza stations are veritable kingdoms, chefs tossing, slicing, and topping pizzas while the rest of the spread bows to the pies.

I chased them across boroughs and suburbs, tasting the slice-to-buffet interplay and finding places where pie doesn’t compete, it commands. Here’s your map to pizza-led buffet carnivals.

1. The Buffet (College Point)

The dining room buzzes like a carnival: kids darting between stations, trays clattering, steam rising in aromatic clouds. Even the salad bar feels secondary here.

Pizza stands front and center, with pies coming out continuously, pepperoni, veggie, and cheese slices stacked beside bubbling pans of pasta. Sushi and dim sum orbit, but dough runs the show.

I tried a slice with crisped edges that curled just enough to trap the cheese. Walking past the seafood line afterward, I knew I’d already found the headliner.

2. Sea & Sky Feast Buffet (Flushing)

Shrimp, oysters, and clams dominate the ice bed, but right beside them, trays of pizza keep the balance. It’s seafood first, but pie holds its own.

The place is a neighborhood heavyweight, with lunch and dinner crowds filling the sprawling dining hall. Weekends bring longer waits, but the payoff is breadth: sushi boats, hot pots, dim sum, and pizza slices sneaking onto every plate.

Tip: go early evening. By seven, oyster trays empty quickly, and the pizza station works double time to satisfy the late rush.

3. Mizumi (Little Neck)

A swirl of soy, garlic, and tomato sauce perfumes the air, an odd but delightful overlap. The buffet floor is glossy, reflective, almost theatrical.

Pizzas arrive beside hibachi, trays of lo mein, and rolls from the sushi belt. It’s a mash-up that feels both global and deeply local. Prices hover around the mid-$20s, reasonable for the sprawl.

I stacked a plate with both California rolls and sausage pizza. It was absurd, maybe even reckless, but it felt like exactly what Mizumi wanted me to do.

4. Global Buffet (Levittown)

The space feels vast, almost like a food airport terminal, with neon signs blinking above long rows of stations. Noise carries but not in a chaotic way.

Here, pizza keeps steady company with sushi rolls, fried chicken, and international trays. It’s less theatrical than others but consistent, pies are swapped often, kept hot and simple.

Pair the pizza with fried dumplings. It sounds mismatched, but the crunch and chew work together, and locals seem to know this combo already.

5. Flaming Grill & Supreme Buffet (Baldwin)

The first bite of pizza here is all about texture, chewy crust giving way to soft cheese, a faint char clinging to the edges. Lights glare bright over sizzling hibachi.

Flaming Grill builds its identity around size. Rows of trays stretch into seafood, barbecue, sushi, and dessert, yet pizza quietly holds space.

I tried a slice while hibachi spat flames behind me. It felt almost surreal to taste dough and mozzarella while the air filled with soy and garlic smoke.

6. Ocean Buffet (Massapequa)

Lanterns hang low, casting a warm glow across plates stacked higher than they should be. Kids tug at sleeves, adults lean over trays, the room hums.

Ocean Buffet rotates seafood dishes daily, fried shrimp, baked fish, chow mein. Pizza stations keep rolling out cheese and pepperoni, sturdy staples that never linger long.

I leaned into a slice here, simple cheese, nothing fancy. It reminded me why buffets work: familiar comfort alongside the adventurous. That balance made me linger longer than planned.

7. Flaming Grill & Buffet (Flatbush)

Steam rises in bursts from hibachi grills, but the pizza counter holds its own glow. The dining room buzzes with families and groups, plates stacked high.

Flatbush’s branch of Flaming Grill offers sushi boats, fried dumplings, noodle trays, and a lineup of pizza pies that cycle through every half hour. Freshness is the silent rule.

Tip: watch for the sausage pies, they vanish fast. Regulars know the timing, and trays often clear before newcomers even spot them.

8. Umi Sushi & Seafood Buffet (Brooklyn)

The scent of soy and seaweed wraps the room until the sharper note of tomato sauce cuts through. It’s a sensory collision worth savoring.

Seafood towers dominate here, with oysters, sashimi, and steamed crab legs, but pizza adds a grounding option. The station turns out thin-crust slices that don’t try to overshadow, just complement.

I grabbed a slice between sushi rounds, and the contrast made me laugh. It was ridiculous and perfect, a reminder that buffets let you ignore rules in the best way.

9. Flatlands Buffet (Brooklyn)

Bright lights reflect off the polished tile, and trays clatter as staff rotate dishes with mechanical rhythm. The space feels like a machine built for appetite.

Pizza pies arrive steadily, sharing counter space with fried rice, wings, lo mein, and soups. There’s no pause, no empty tray, just constant motion.

The slice I tried here was pepperoni, simple but hot, a dependable anchor. It wasn’t glamorous, but I loved how it fit into the endless cycle of buffet abundance.

10. DJ’s International Buffet (Garden City)

Noise rolls across the room like surf, families chatting, plates clinking, trays sliding into place. The vibe is crowded but energizing.

Pizza stands alongside an eclectic mix: sushi rolls, grilled meats, and Chinese-American classics. The menu shifts often, but pizza holds steady, acting like the constant thread.

Watch how quickly pies disappear here. Staff replace trays with impressive speed, and the best way to catch the hotter slices is simply hovering nearby.

11. Flaming Grill & Buffet (Newburgh)

The glow of hibachi flames lights up the buffet line, but the pizza counter draws steady attention. The space feels more suburban than city, calmer but still busy.

This Flaming Grill leans on variety: ribs, wings, seafood, sushi, and stir-fries. Pizza rolls out reliably, balancing the menu’s heavier flavors with something easy and familiar.

Pair the pizza with their fried chicken. Odd at first, but regulars swear by the mix, and it feels perfectly suited to buffet-style creativity.

12. King Buffet (Poughkeepsie)

The tile floors gleam under fluorescent lights, and the dining room carries a steady hum, never silent, never overwhelming. Trays clatter, kids dart between stations.

Pizza is a staple here, hot and fresh in rotation, but the buffet sprawls beyond: lo mein, sushi, fried seafood, soups. Prices stay affordable, drawing students and families alike.

I grabbed a slice mid-afternoon, when the rush had passed. It wasn’t flashy, just warm and sturdy, and somehow that felt exactly right in the middle of the sprawl.

13. Albany Buffet (Colonie)

Lanterns glow against mirrored walls, and the air smells like garlic, soy, and just-baked dough colliding all at once. The vibe is suburban big-buffet energy.

Albany Buffet spreads wide, seafood trays, sushi belts, dim sum baskets, and a pizza station that never pauses. Pies roll out with clockwork rhythm, always hot, always replenished.

Swing by during lunch. The price is lower, the pizza’s just as steady, and the crowd thins enough to make the sprawl manageable.

14. Hibachi Grill & Supreme Buffet (North Babylon)

The sizzle of hibachi iron mingles with the sharper scent of pizza crust browning in the oven. The space hums with families balancing plates higher than seems safe.

North Babylon’s Supreme Buffet prides itself on scale: hibachi, seafood, sushi, desserts, and a dedicated pizza counter. Variety is the promise, but dough and cheese remain a centerpiece.

I took a slice between hibachi rounds, the cheese still bubbling. That strange overlap, soy sauce smoke and mozzarella melt, summed up why buffets never stop being fun for me.