If there was one thing downtown Boise didn't really need it was another pizza joint. Flatbread Community Oven is around the corner from Front Door Northwest Pizza and Tap House and down the street from Tony's Pizzeria Teatro, which is located halfway between Pie Hole and Guido's. And if you don't like any of those, you can truck two blocks to BODO for Proto's Pizzeria Napoletana.
And that's a shame because Wiseguy Pizza Pie, a Sun Valley-based chain that took over the Chronic Tacos space near Sixth and Main streets, is, by most measures, quite pleasant.
The high-ceilinged space has stone walls and a red-and-black color scheme. Large, tastefully spaced oil paintings of electric guitars and Josh Ritter playing live with his band adorn the walls. The restaurant is rarely crowded but manages not to feel empty. And that also means it is a gloriously short wait for any of the rotating microbrews on tap at the bar or any of the pizzas available by the slice from a large warmer rack.
But strangely enough, the pizza is where Wiseguy Pizza might struggle. Not because it's bad, but because it, like the decor, tosses aside flash and bang to be tasteful and to the point. In the context of its competition, these wise guys don't really stand out. Slices are topped with good quality ingredients but all are still quite standard.
The joint's flagship slice, The Wiseguy, has pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, olives and red onions. Goldilocks would approve--the meats were cooked just right, measured just right and spread evenly across a decent sourdough crust. It wasn't anything gourmet, but it was far better than a chain pie with the same toppings. The most unusual slice, the Sad Guy, stood out because it had a few dollops of blue cheese.
Wiseguy does offer cobb salads, cheese steaks and the like, but those also don't exceed expectations in any notable way.
In the end, Wiseguy Pizza is a nice place, with decent food and prices that won't break the bank. But in Boise's pizzanated downtown, something needs to set a place apart--be it the absurd hours and more absurd toppings at Pie Hole, the swank ingredients at Flatbread or the brazen cheapness of Guido's. Wiseguy's lunch special--two cheese or pepperoni slices and a soda for $5--might just be the thing to do that. But maybe not.