James Parrish
Google
Gioia is low-key that spot if you’re craving East Coast vibes with West Coast energy. The crust? Straight-up feral—in the best way. It’s light, just thick enough to keep the slice from folding like a lawn chair, and hits you with this tangy, long-fermented sourness that makes your brain go “skrrt.” The amount of char they’re getting from a gas-fired brick oven is actually bananas. It’s not soft or doughy—it’s crisp, crunchy, and totally serving.
Flavor-wise, it’s giving New York slice science: crust, sauce, cheese all in balance. But the toppings? That’s where Gioia flexes hard. There’s a roasted mushroom slice that tastes like a Druid made it. Asparagus with almond pesto, ricotta, and mint that’s full goblin-core. You’ll also catch kale with sausage, pickled jalapeño with red onion, and that fire Ezzo pepperoni that crisps up like tiny grease chalices of joy. It’s bougie but in a “yes chef” way.
Slice size? More California chill than New York challenge. You’ll probably crush four and still be thinking about grabbing a fifth. For comparison, two slices at Arinell’s or Arthur Mac’s is a full meal on a budget—this place is more “treat yourself” energy. Definitely more coins per slice, but the quality’s no cap.
Now the vibes? Gioia keeps it moving. The staff’s got that “be ready or be gone” energy. Not rude, just quick with it—like, don’t be the NPC holding up the line. No tables, no seating, just pure grab-n-ghost action. Honestly, it adds to the lore. You’re not here to vibe, you’re here to eat and dip.
TL;DR: The crust slaps, the toppings go hard, the staff is on turbo mode, and the whole thing feels like a speedrun of pizza greatness. Gioia’s is (at least in North Berkeley) HIM.
