Greenville: Pizza Mecca of Earth?

Spectators Sports Bar & Grill (W6165 Greenville Dr., Greenville, WI) is a place I’d driven by numerous times, but never thought I’d have a reason to stop by.

For one, it’s in Greenville, which one usually only happens upon when looking for discount Wasabi Peas, or when given bogus directions to the Fox River Mall. Secondly, the bar looks, from the outside at least, to be the type of place where Jager Bombs are considered “new” and unlicensed T-shirts bashing Brett Favre are routinely sold.

But fate, hunger and a tri-generational meeting of Mario (except not an alias) family males recently brought me to Spectators for the first time. There, I learned 1. Spectators is actually kind of a badass bar, 2. My grandpa is a dirty and hilarious old man, 3. Puerto Rican sluts on the rag are delicious (the shot isn’t bad either), 4. The secluded country bar’s pizza is that of wet dreams.

At first glance, I would’ve pegged Spectators to be the kind of place that only carried Joe’s Fox Hut frozen pizzas with a variety of toppings ranging from pepperoni all the way to sausage. But not only did the joint make me feel like a presumptive dickhead by having an assload of fresh toppings on hand, it combined them into a tasty amalgamation of penis-stiffening deliciousness on par with a first kiss on Christmas morning during Toyotathon. We decided on a works pizza and settled in for a few drinks, some light sexual harassment and a za fit for elegant bishops.

THE GOOD: You name it. As you can see above, the toppings are plentiful and fresh to death. The crust — though over abundant — was fluffy and buttery as all hell. And THE SAUCE!!! Oh, the sauce! So spicy, herb-infused and generously douched! Were I tasked in some type of Saw premise with choosing a substance to drown in, it might be Spectators’ sauce. Beyond the pizza, the drinks were cheap ($1.50 bottle of High Life!), the bar was surprisingly spacious and fairly nice inside. Somehow in the 60 capacity tavern, they found room for a pool table, upper level seating and a Moose head donning a ball cap. Plus, they employ bartenders with the hotness and flirtation skill set to enamor an entire family lineage ranging from 25 to however the fuck old my grandpa is. 

You know that Richard Pryor movie The Toy? I think I can safely say that Spectators is my equivalent of that brat kid’s room.

THE BAD: The name. Spectators isn’t really a fitting name for a place with like six inconveniently-placed TVs, only one of which is a big screen. And without the apostrophe in Spectators, there’s no implied ownership. So I guess it’s not a place for sporting event onlookers to hang out, rather a bar built using the bodies, blood and bone of athletic enthusiasts. Bet it’s haunted as shit. That, and it’s kind of out of the way for anyone not living in Northern Appleton or Greenville itself. Otherwise, it’s pretty boss.

TRY: Hand tossed pizza. My dad swears by the thin crust, but he also thinks Carlos Mencia is funny. The sauce is the highlight of the pizza and the hand tossed yields the most sauce.

RATING: Cranked that shit up to 11.

“Some assholes, probably,” I’d speculate while en route to Kohl’s or some better pizza place. 

But while back in Appleton last week, I decided to pay a visit — my second in the past eight months — to both my buddy, and to Nick-N-Willy’s Pizza.

This Canadian-owned corporation (in the same way Gumby’s Pizza and Sinclair gas stations are corporations) apparently has 41 locations in the U.S., and six in The Badger State alone. Beyond that, Nick-N-Willy’s — an Indie in the pizza world — was fittingly an Official Provider of the 2010 Sundance Film Festival. A perfect pairing of pizza very few people have heard of and movies very few people have heard of.

The only other thing I know about Nick-N-Willy’s is that they make, serve and sell pizza with varying levels of edibility.

THE GOOD: If you check out the restaurant’s menu, you’ll find a lengthy and versatile listing of specialty ‘Za. The pizzas run the gamut of ingredients and sauce types. One even has mandarin oranges on it. Imagine, baby oranges on a pizza pie. Fuck me sideways! There are certainly more veggie options than many places we’ve previously reviewed. Plus, everything is fresh. I had fresh cut jalapenos on my veggie pizza during my last visit, and it made a world of difference.

Also, if you hate lines, this is the place for you. I ordered, waited for and ate my entire pizza in the time it took three customers to venture into the place. Ghost town. That said, the speed and quality of service was good — especially when accounting for their lack of actual encounters with customers.

THE BAD: No matter who you are, we can all agree that even sub-par pizza is still great food. I’m not saying N-N-W’s is bad, but it does lack identity. The few morsels of personality this sterile franchise does possess aren’t extremely flattering.

• The pizza sauce tastes like cheesy marinara sauce. I like marinara sauce… on pasta.
• They used cheddar cheese along with mozzarella. What the fuck? Cheddar? Is this Soviet Russia? In the theme of that shitty Russian comic Yakov Smirnoff, is every cheese-related thing at Nick-N-Willy’s the less appealing opposite of what it would be at a normal pizza place? I like cheddar as much as the next 85th weight percentile out there, but when it comes to pizza, keep it at mozzarella, feta, parmesan or goat. Hell, I might even prefer fromunda cheese (fromunda my nuts) over cheddar on my ‘Za.
• No matter if you dine in or carry out, you need to give a name and phone number. Hang on Missy… since 9/11 I’ve been living off the grid. I’ll be God damned if al Qaeda (or jury duty) tracks me down because I ate at a failing pizza franchise twice. Last I checked, it wasn’t Fort Knox-N-Willy’s; let’s just keep our Social Security cards in our pocket — at least until Focaccia Sandwiches come into play.

TRY: Anything with the “Olive Oil Glaze” instead of tomato sauce. I usually base a pizza’s quality on its sauce, but since Nick-N-Willy’s tomato sauce is akin to still-cold Lunchables pizza sauce, I opted for the glaze on my second time in. I found that it really allowed the flavor of the fresh and abundant vegetables to take center stage.

RATING: If Nick Lachey-N-Willie McGee collaborated on a charity softball game/soundtrack and the proceeds went towards making cheddar the official cheese for pizzas at independent film festivals.

http://www.wiseguysappleton.com

When I’m in Appleton, WI I mainly like to do three things. First on my list is leave. My second favorite time killer is seeing how drunk I can get before getting my ass kicked or ending up in the Appleton Police Department’s holding cell. This has provided me many years of entertainment. My other favorite thing to do is eat pizza. With gems such as Stuc’s and Frank’s (plus Cranky Pat’s just a little bit south) you really can’t go wrong. When I visited Appleton most recently my friend and Appleton local, David Joseph Kiley, got me hip to a new joint. Wiseguys Pizzeria & Pub.

Dave, his girlfriend Toni, and myself visited Wiseguys the day after Thanksgiving. I had woken Dave up at 1 PM by busting through his front door and demanding beer (which I got). Dave has a real knack for having girlfriends who complain so almost immediately Toni started whining about how hungry she was. After a good thirty minutes of them bickering about which place to eat I decided for us.

Wiseguy’s Pizzeria is located in a newly built strip mall on the south side of Appleton. I, actually, consider this part of town Menasha but I’m not 100% clear on town borders. There are a few options for seating areas at Wiseguys: the bar area, the dining room, and out front. The dining room is pretty large with booths and tables. The bar area has a few hightop tables and, of course, seating at the bar. We sat on the bar side. Our waitress came with the menus, took our orders (Sam Adams Winter Lager for me), and gave us some time to peruse the menu. They have sandwiches, burgers, appetizers, and even grilled cheese for kids. They call the salad section “Leaves” and the soup section “Liquid.” Kind of weird.

I flipped my menu over and saw one of the most impressive specialty pizza sections I’ve ever seen. Sure, it has some of your regulars. The Mexican pizza, the BBQ Chicken, the Hawaiian, etc. Then you see things such as The Kuester (mild sauce, mozzarella, monterey jack, provolone, crumbled blue cheese, crumbled bacon, fresh basil, parmesan, and roasted garlic). Are you kidding me? Amazing. The Italian Beef pizza piqued my curiosity but the Pak’r Bak’r really did it for me. I mean, what would Aaron Rodgers think if I didn’t order this pizza?

The Pak’r Bak’r has Wiseguy’s special mustard sauce, mozzarella, sauerkraut, and bratwurst. Not being the biggest fan of mustard I asked about the special mustard sauce. It’s a mix of yellow mustard and a spicy brown and was told it’s better enjoyed with extra sauce. I was hesitant but sold. Order placed.

The hand tossed crust was thicker than your typical hand tossed. The mustard sauce was really subtle except near the edge of the crust where it became very prevalent. The bratwurst and sauerkraut were delicious. I’ve had sauerkraut on pizza before and I highly suggest trying it.

The Good: The pizza selection. There is a large spread of “Gourmet Pizzas” and, just like the Adam & Eve catalog (not linking that one…), there is bound to be something for everyone’s taste. Wiseguy’s also offers a fantastic tap and bottled beer selection.
I almost forgot to mention my favorite part of Wiseguy’s. The game room. Wanna talk about some adult shit with your friends but one of them was duped into having a kid? Send that kid to the game room. Pizza taking forever and your friends suck? GAME ROOM. There’s pinball, one of those “win every time” candy prize machines, I believe some sort of shooter type game, and my personal favorite, the old school arcade machine that gives you your choice of 30 some games for a quarter. You know who isn’t as good at Mappy Land as they remember being? This guy.

The Bad: Not much. Overall, it was a really good experience. Wiseguy’s menu looks great, the pizza was good, and the waitress extremely friendly. They ran out of Sam Adams while I was there. My bad, though, not theirs.

Try: I suggest trying the Pak’r Bak’r. it’s different but goddamn delicious. I really think you can’t go wrong with any of the gourmet pizzas. Even if you don’t get the Pak’r Bak’r try sauerkraut on your pizza.

Rating: Like having firecrackers at a college basement party

We should maybe stop stealing pics eventually.

There’s an old adage that goes something like, “Use it, or lose it.” 

That statement is not only applicable to weightlifting and the male penis, but also to one’s proximity to quality late night pizza joints in the Fox Cities. When drinking on College Avenue in Appleton, Sal’s Pizza should be used.

Located in the shadow of Anduzzi’s, and directly across from Wet — that shitty night club where Nick Barnett pushed down some lady — its location leaves something to be desired. A frame of reference for those not familiar with the Fox Valley: It’s smack dab in the Appleton equal of Milwaukee’s Water Street between Juneau and Kilborn, the Madison equivalent of wherever that bar is where that wheelchair-bound little person trolls for fresh dick, the Eau Claire version of … Eau Claire. 

But despite the shitshow surrounding Sal’s, the pizza is worth stumbling the gauntlet of pavement puke, off key street performers, and Appleton Police after last call. 

The menu at Sal’s is about as original as the name “Sal’s” is for a pizza parlor. The tiny restaurant specializes in pizza by the slice, and features all the favorites: From pepperoni to spinach and feta to Margarita. If you’ve seen it at Sabarro’s, Sal’s not only has it, Sal’s makes it better.

Additionally, they serve these greasy ass Italian biscuits with each slice. That’s it. Pizza and bread Jr. You want spaghetti and a side salad? Well, fuck right off and get you ass to Victoria’s.

THE GOOD: The pizza/the price. Sal’s, if nothing else, knows its demographic — Lazy stoners who work at Jimmy John’s that are sick of eating subs every Goddamn day, and Plump Drunk Love(s) like myself who seek a slice of salvation following another night of gin, dance offs and not getting their dick wet. The pizza is ready immediately and is fairly-portioned, while delightfully greasy. The cheese is abundant, the sauce conveys a salty and pepper-flecked symphony of flavor, and it can be had for none more than $4. Cheese is something like $2.40/slice. I’d look the price up, but…

THE BAD: … there’s no fucking Web site. You know your business model is messed up when it’s after 1995 and you haven’t allocated $50 to get a Web site hosted for your business. As I write this, there are currently more Web sites on the Internet that are critical of Sal’s Pizza’s lack of a Web site than there are actual Web sites for the Appleton Sal’s Pizza. 

Also (and maybe this changed since I moved), most of the people working there during my visits acted like total dicksuckers to customers. I can see that flying after midnight, but try not to have your fucking period right at the counter during the four-person lunch “rush” if my dad asks for a red pepper shaker that’s directly behind you. Things could be worse, miss. For example: You could be trying to find information on Sal’s online.

TRY: Spinach and Feta. Spinach is healthy, it makes your muscles big and enables cartoons of things like speeding locomotives and kicking stallions to appear on your since-enlarged bicep. Feta is the reigning Guiness Book of World Records record holder in the category of best cheese ever. Put them together in pizza form, charge $3.25 for it and BONERS UP, BOYS AND GIRLS!

RATING: I’m seriously thinking about hiring Dr. Ronnie to make a Web site for Sal’s Pizza that I’ll then host myself. I’d only ask for two free slices and a small fountain soda in return.

The magic was all in their sauce. If they told me it was made out of leprechauns and cocaine, I’d probably have said ‘Yeah, that makes sense.’ I continued coming back even after the time that my companion and I ate almost an entire pizza without plates (normally they give you these shortly after you order). For whatever reason, they just couldn’t find and keep competent waitstaff. But goddamn did they make some awesome pizza.

THE GOOD: THE SAUCE. Holy shit, is the sauce good. I don’t know if I’m willing to actually back this up, but I would probably eat just about anything if it was served with this sauce. They had a few really good vegetarian ‘zas, including my personal favorite, “The Popeye.” This delicious pizza featured cheese, spinach, feta and extra garlic. Even the shittiest of service couldn’t ruin this combination. That Fox NFL robot could be my waiter, but as long as it didn’t fuck up my pizza, I’d still leave a satisfied customer. I also vaguely remember them having some decent happy hour drink specials, and that’s always good.

THE BAD: The service at this place was notoriously bad; I’m fairly certain that’s why then ended up closing after a few years in Appleton. It was fairly common to have one of the waitstaff take your order and never see them again. An entirely different server (or sometimes a cook) would bring out your pizza. If you were lucky, you’d get plates and napkins and maybe a drink refill. Also, they removed “The Popeye” from the menu, leaving only one vegetarian specialty pizza (the Florentine, pictured above). Granted, you could still custom order a pie with the same toppings, but it ended up costing more that way.

TRY: Try not to crack your server in the skull with the first blunt object you can get your hands on. FUCK do they have some bad service. But seriously, their nachos are possibly the best ever, and make for a great appetizer if you’ve got a group of people. Also, probably try not to get too attached to any specific menu items. In the two or three years the Appleton location was open I think they changed their menu like 8 times or some shit.

While the Appleton location was plagued with terrible waitstaff, the magical (and possibly drug-laden) pizza kept me frequenting the place. Their website lists other Wisconsin locations in Eau Claire and Middleton, but I don’t really feel the need to go on a road trip just to find out if their service is any better. Although it almost certainly couldn’t get much worse than the shitfest that was the A-Town location.

RATING: RoboCop on a unicorn

Most of my encyclopedic illicit drug knowledge is based not on personal experience, but through Wu-Tang and Clipse albums and The Wire. Scratch that, all of my encyclopedic illicit drug knowledge is based not on personal experience, but through Wu-Tang and Clipse albums and The Wire. However, over my increasingly less productive 23 years, I’ve readily ingested one addictive substance with the reckless abandon reserved for coke fiends: the sauce at Stuc’s in Appleton.

See, the sauce (and by extension, the pizza) at Stuc’s is like my grade-A blast of heroin, and every other pizza is a weak shit substitute that’s been stepped on with a large amount of baking soda. Frozen pizzas? Those might as well be skunkweed compared to Stuc’s. Pizza pockets? I’d get a better high from mouthwash (if I keep stretching this metaphor).

And like any good drug addict, I can chart the moment I hit rock bottom on my endless chase of the perfect high: it was the fall of 2006, when I purposefully went to Appleton (a 30 minute drive) just to get a pizza, and had to stop in Neenah on my way back home just to stick my finger in the sauce and get a taste. It was pitiful. But unlike a recovered junky, I have no shame. That shit is delicious, and I’ll do about anything to get some, because Stuc’s is on another level when it comes to this here pizza shit, creating unsustainably excellent pizzas that will make you weep as you eat them; you will cry for the fact that it is so delicious while crying for the fact that the more you eat now, the less there is to eat later.

The Good: Stuc’s, which is located on College Avenue near the aqueduct, is like a pizza Mecca, where the styles of New York and Chicago morph together to kill appetites dead. The Chicago style is the main attraction, with crust that had to have been created by an all-powerful deity I didn’t believe in until I ate at Stuc’s, roughly 48 ounces of sauce, sausage cut right off a live pig, and whatever else you want on there. The New York style is a bit a thick to be true New York style—the slice is impossible to bend due to the insane amount of cheese—but it too is basically unfuckwithable.

The Bad: Apart from the price—which is totally worth it—there’s not much downside to Stuc’s. The eating-in option is kind of weak, since it’s basically like eating in someone’s basement (all concrete and cheap furniture). Their slogan, “The Good Mood Food,” is kind of bizarre, since it doesn’t rhyme (unless you have a speech impediment) and seems like it was written by the Post Crescent’s copy editors (which is mean as a negative). And I guess it doesn’t have a lame-ass history involving two old guys who broke up and splintered their pizza empires into two franchises that sell you Jack’s frozen pizzas at way too expensive prices. So that puts it behind Frank’s and Cranky Pat’s in Appleton pizza notoriety.

Try: Honestly, if it comes out of the ovens at Stuc’s, I’d gladly put it in my mouth hole. The Chicago style is my favorite pizza of all time, which is saying something, since I essentially went to New York solely to eat pizza in 2004, and ate it for three meals a day for a week, and didn’t find anything better than Stuc’s. I realize this review is pretty weak, but seriously, I can’t even think of halfway coherent things to say about this stuff that doesn’t sound perverted, and I am seriously considering just giving up and posting a YouTube video of me mowing down a large Chicago style, giggling like a loon like those assholes in all the salvia videos on YouTube. Trust; this shit is the best.

Rating: How can you rate a blue sky? A child’s smile? Or a Stuc’s pizza? You can’t. They transcend ratings.

To give you a better idea of what I mean, have you ever seen the movie Uncle Buck? Well, you know that bitchy daughter who, beneath her cuntish reaction to her family leaving Indianapolis, you realized was going to be totally hot eventually? (She’s older than me, so it’s cool). Well, that same girl, who – all grown up - you now squeeze off to when watching Yes, Dear on days your Internet connection is slow at 2 p.m., is Cheyenne’s pizza in this simile. The decaying parking ramp, drifters and ever-present road construction surrounding Cheyenne’s is like the mom in Uncle Buck. What a unfortunate looking woman she was. Seriously, I’d rather bang John Candy… now.

Anyway, back to Cheyenne’s…

 THE GOOD: Specialty pizzas. Like most traditional sports bars, Cheyenne’s has your usual bar food — nachos, sandwiches, an assortment of burgers and a Friday fish fry. That’s all well and fine, but the pizzas are the cat’s molasses (that’s the term, right?). They’re thin crust square slices of Utopia, heaping with toppings and gooey cheese. They even say their pizza is “Rated #1″… but they provide no attribution to that rating, so I’m not inclined to believe that. As a writer for the Midwest’s #1 Rated Web site, I can’t trust just any claim.

THE BAD: The prices. For what you pay ($9.95 – $17.95, additional toppings $1/each), the portions are generous enough, but figuring you’re at a bar, you’ll want a few drinks while you wait. Suddenly, a somewhat better version of a delivery Za has turned into a $50 tab… if not more. I suppose you could take it out or just have water or soda, but is that possible when you’re going to a bar? Not in Wisconsin. Plus, they use canned mushrooms instead of fresh. That’s as unnatural as putting an Uncle Buck reference in a pizza review.

TRY: [Meat] — “The Works” is a shitload of sausage, pepperoni, green peppers, onions and black olives. It’s the kind of pizza a man could write a sonnet to. [Meatless] — “Vegetarian” also kicks total ass. It’s The Works minus the meat.

RATING: Beating Mario 3 meets waking up to a (sub-par) HJ.

Fucking asshole.

When I was in Cub Scouts, we took a field trip to Frank’s to learn how to make our own pizzas. One kid put his unwashed hands in a tub of raw sausage and Frank fucking LOST IT. He screamed at this unsanitary youth, shouting profanities and getting all up in his face. It was awesome, but kind of scary — like taking a purple dump.

Anyway, Frank’s dead now, but I still wouldn’t risk fucking with him. That guy was intimidating, but he could sure make a pizza.

THE GOOD: Anything. The crust is super thin and crispy. The sausage is made in-house, and they use fresh mushrooms. The sauce is near-identical to Cranky Pat’s, which is my personal favorite sauce. They also have pasta, a salad bar and crunchy garlic bread — each of which I’ve gladly endured watching my uncle disgustingly eat while waiting for my delicious Frank’s pie.

THE BAD: At times, the service. Pizza with raw sausage and fresh mushrooms cooked in an ancient oven takes time, so be patient. In the meantime, little service industry tools like regular drink refills, everyone getting their food at the same time, and not sexually harassing each other (at least in front of customers) go a long way. But maybe I’m asking for too much.

TRY: “Frank’s Special” (double sausage, double mushrooms, and two toppings of your choice) OR “Vegetarian Special” (tomato pieces, broccoli, cauliflower, mushrooms, green peppers, onion and three cheeses). It will make your nips hard enough to shift the tides of Lake Winnebago. And I don’t even know how tides work!

If you’re in the Fox Cities, give Frank’s a try. It’s as Appleton as rampant Houdini plaques, The Lawe Street hill, and getting popular fast food chains two years after your initial exposure to them.

RATING: Middle School snow day when you didn’t finish an important Civics projects due that morning.

Muncheez Pizza LLC perfectly exemplifies the term “hole in the wall”, not only because there are actually holes in their wall, but because it seems like a place more likely to give you scabies than a good meal. But for the Fox Cities residents that have managed to vanquish their preconceptions of  the unfortunate-looking business, there exists a unique, affordable and delicious gem in the Appleton pizza scene.

It took me a while to make my way to Muncheez. Despite the, always cool, implementation of a Z instead of an S in its name, I found it difficult to bring myself to a run-down looking structure painted in the off-putting hue of dragon splooge. Moreover, the College Avenue business is just blocks from legendary Italian restaurants Frank’s Pizza and Victoria’s. But once I sacked up and gave Muncheez a chance, I was glad I did.

Once inside, it’s – in many ways – your average local pizza joint. They carry the standard toppings, greasy sides and normal pizza alternatives like subs, salads and wings. Having made the standard single-topping pizza a mainstay, they do it right. But where they really shine is with their specialty pizza.

THE GOOD: A specialty pizza. I’ll admit that I haven’t had most of them, but with choices like: “The Muncheezburger”, “Chicken Bacon Ranch”, and “Mexican Munchfest” – I … uh, I … what was I saying again? I think I started to trail off at “Mexican Munchfest.” In short, Muncheez goes all out in their 14 specialties, and include diverse toppings such as re-fried beans, Mandarin oranges, BBQ sauce, jalapenos and broccoli. Try one. Plus, they’re open until 3 a.m. every day.

THE BAD: Not much, honestly. If you can get past a place looking like it will inflict an unforgiving wave of food poisoning and diarrhea on you by simply stepping through its doorway, you’ll be happy you came.

Total Dick4.

TRY: Eating there when John Gard isn’t there to bring his politics all up in your shit while you want to fucking eat a Goddam jalapeno pizza in peace. If you’re fortunate enough to dine in without this assclown pandering for your vote (I wasn’t so lucky in one of my last trips), you’ll probably enjoy it. If you’re not so lucky, kick this stooge in the scrotum for me.

RATING: Like a 69 of Pizza 3.14.