My first reaction to the exterior of CheeZies was dread at the thought of greasy pizza (any pizza at all, for that matter), followed shortly by laughter at the sign on the window – CALIZONES. Haha, I thought. Those dummies can’t spell calzone. Maybe we don’t even have to eat there, I thought. Maybe it doesn’t qualify for BHFE. So I looked them up online. There are only 23 locations, mostly in the midwest and only one location in Georgia. Blast! In we go.

CheeZies waiting area.

My first reaction to the interior was shock and confusion at being in a warehouse instead of a pizza joint, followed by the dawning realization that calizone was an intention misspelling, and possibly a pun that I fail to fathom. (Seriously, it’s not a California-based company, so where is this I coming from, and what does it mean?! *twitch, twitch*)

I wasn’t able to really capture the warehouse effect, but there’s a lot of open space and shiny metal sufaces behind those boxes.

We ordered a large taco pizza with the optional jalepenos to go. Because there is nowhere to eat at CheeZies, unless you sit on one of two small tables outside, on the sidewalk, with no awning, next to a large asphalt parking lot, in the blazing sun. Yep, to go please! After tax and tip it came to $10 flat.

We took our pie home and ate it on the couch, watching Mad Men. While not bad, it didn’t seem overwhelmingly “taco” to me (not like a Stevi B’s taco pizza), and in the end it just seemed like not only a very generic fast food southern-style pizza, but a sub-par one at that. Nothing overtly wrong, just nothing redeeming, ya know?

CheeZies’ taco pizza.

With a Papa John’s one mile down the street (and a Domino’s and a Pizza Hut less than a quarter mile farther), where $10 will get you a large two topping pizza that comes with a deliciously cardiac-inducing garlic sauce and hot peppers on the side, if you are wanting a fast food pizza, we can’t see any reason to eat at CheeZies. 2 stars.