Welcome to “Sunday Sauce,” a new monthly Milwaukee Record series about the area’s Italian food—the restaurants, the grocery stores, the events, and the small details that make a meal feel like home. I’m starting it because most of us spend our days chasing comfort. The world can be loud, chaotic, and frankly scary, and sooner or later we all start looking for a place to exhale. For me, that place has always been the kitchen, cooking for family and friends or gathering around a table to celebrate a good meal.

The Delicious Mess

On my dad’s side, we’re Italian, and at a get-together nobody got to be a spectator. At my grandparents’ house, the rule was simple: help make the meal or help clean up after. I always chose the delicious mess. Some of my earliest memories are spending time with my grandfather, my dad, and my great aunt as we made pasta for a crowd of cousins. I felt the nervous thrill of being trusted to crush my first bulb of garlic with the flat side of a knife for the family sauce. After hours of simmering and stirring, I felt like I’d earned a small place in the DeSantis sauce-making tradition.

But not every DeSantis meal stayed in my grandparents’ kitchen. Growing up in Wausau, where the Italian community was small but tightly knit, our family dinners spilled out into the town. At its peak, four family-owned Italian restaurants anchored the scene, and my grandparents made a point of taking us to each of them regularly. Those evenings in dimly lit dining rooms, walls lined with old photos from the mother country and Rat Pack crooners in the background, are some of the memories I return to most. They’re the same spirit I’ll be chasing each month with “Sunday Sauce.”

The Brady Street Institution

If this series is going to be a love letter to Italian comfort, it only makes sense to start with a Brady Street institution: Glorioso’s Italian Market. After a temporary closure following an October fire, Glorioso’s is back in a big way, reopening just in time to celebrate its 80th anniversary.

Founded in 1946 by brothers Joe, Eddie, and Ted Glorioso, the market has served Milwaukee for generations. And after eight decades in the Glorioso family it has entered a new chapter, transitioning ownership from one Italian family to another.

The store is anchored by a full-service deli counter and a steady stream of favorites: made-to-order sandwiches, pasta, pizza, gelato, espresso, cheese, fresh sausage, and just about everything else you didn’t realize you needed until you walked in.

My First Taste of Milwaukee

I remember going to Glorioso’s as a very young kid in the early-to-mid ’90s. In a lot of ways, it was the catalyst for my first real visit to Milwaukee. I’d never been to the “big city.” I can still picture myself in the backseat of my parent’s car, watching the texture of the city unfold for the first time. Looking back, I was feeling genuine awe as we drove in. It was the first time I’d seen buildings that tall, with that kind of ornate design, a long way from the sheet-metal strip malls back home.

Circles and Detours

This was before GPS was a given, and I still laugh thinking about how many times we got to Milwaukee and then basically wandered around trying to remember where Brady Street actually was. We’d drive in circles, pull over, and rely on the kindness of strangers pointing us in the right direction. Some days, it honestly felt like finding Brady Street took as long as the drive from Central Wisconsin to Milwaukee in the first place.

My mind always goes back to walking into that original location and being hit with it: the smell, the atmosphere, the feeling that you’d entered a totally different world. I haven’t forgotten getting a little sample of capicola or salami, sliced paper thin at the deli, and feeling absurdly special, like a seal getting tossed a fish at the zoo. I remember the brothers and their children working the store, greeting people as they came and went, and my dad carefully browsing every aisle.

Stocking Up For Home

Dad would bring the biggest cooler we owned and load it with enough groceries for our household, plus extras for my grandparents and anyone else in the family who wanted things we couldn’t get back home. Then we’d put in our order of ready-to-eat sandwiches and sit outside, where my dad would drift into his own Glorioso’s memories.

He distinctly recalls his Roman grandfather visiting during the brief years my dad lived off Silver Spring Drive in the early 1960s, and how meaningful it was to hear him speak Italian at Glorioso’s, comfortably and naturally with the staff. It was rare to hear him speak it elsewhere. After immigrating to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula after World War I, he and his wife didn’t use Italian often or teach it to their children, worried the family would be prejudiced against. Heartbreaking in hindsight, but an all-too-familiar anxiety I’m sure many immigrants still face. Feeling my dad’s nostalgia for the place pretty much sealed my own love for it.

In a lot of ways, Glorioso’s is the key. It’s part of why I fell in love with Milwaukee in the first place, and why I came to the city for the first time. Trips to Milwaukee meant one thing to me: I’m going to get the best Italian sausage sandwich you can find in the Midwest.

When Glorioso’s Became Routine

After high school, I decided to attend UW-Milwaukee, and within my first week living here I was going to Glorioso’s regularly. Especially when you’re newly on your own and the homesickness hits. When that happened, I’d go to Glorioso’s, because nothing comforts homesickness like the Chicago combo. Fun fact: Nothing cures a hangover like a Chicago combo, too.

One of my favorite memories is from 2010, when Glorioso’s relocated across the street to the current location. My grandfather and his crew of Italian buddies up in Wausau were excited to see it, but getting down to Milwaukee felt like a hassle, so they recruited me as their personal chauffeur. I loaded up a minivan with my grandfather and four of his oldest friends and drove them down just to experience the new space and have lunch together. That was the entire day. We didn’t do anything else, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Enough Talk, Let’s Eat

So, after that ridiculous amount of preamble, let’s get into the food.

I went back on the first day they were open to the public again. It was cold, it was January, and nothing felt more perfect than gnocchi, comfort in a bowl. My grandfather used to call gnocchi “sinkers,” because they drop straight to the bottom of your stomach and then expand to fill you up fast. With that in mind, I had to get the Calabrian chili gnocchi.

Calabrian Chiles are a bit of a cooking buzzword right now, and they earn their spot in the fridge. A spoonful can instantly amplify an Italian dish, adding heat and depth without demolishing everything else. These gnocchis were just slightly crisp on the outside from the bake, but soft and pillowy once you bit in, with that satisfying gentle chew. Then the smoky ham came in and tied the whole thing together. Honestly, it was a beautiful bowl of gnocchi.

And of course, I had to get my beloved Italian sausage sandwich.

It’s a classic: Glorioso’s Italian sausage with mild giardiniera, marinara, and provolone on a sesame-seeded Sciortino’s roll. It’s a sandwich that I inhale like Homer Simpson every damn time.

Overall, it’s a perfect lunch, and it’s something I come back for over and over again. That’s the magic, I think. Finding a place that keeps feeding people, day after day, until it becomes part of how you live here. That feeling of comfort and feeling of home. And that’s what I’m chasing with Sunday Sauce. I’ll be back next month, hungry as ever.

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