A few words about Gioia’s Deli and the sandwich that changes things
A sandwich that lives outside the norm of expectations.
Walking into Gioia’s Deli on The Hill, a location beset by long lines of hungry St. Louisans looking for something different than the normal club sandwich, makes for the kind of entrance that the nostrils appreciate more than anything else. Any building that promises food in this part of St. Louis gets your attention right away with the herbs, spices and undeniable smells of impending satisfaction.
Like Blues City Deli and LeGrand’s Market, the average customer has a good idea of what they’re going to get even before entering the building. However, it was a (not-so) secret menu item on Gioia’s Facebook page that turned my head around.
Lool, the Hot Salami never disappoints there. Combine great bread with the finest ingredients, and the rest is fuhgeddaboudit! The finest salami found in the city, encased between a couple slices of garlic cheese bread. But what if you could take that wonderful hunk of meat and pair with hot Italian beef, including the tangy peppers and Provel that takes the thing to another level. Oh, and capicola too.
Forget normal expectations at a place like this. It took me one bite of the secret menu item, the Hilltopper, to understand that we were living in a different sandwich multiverse. It came in the classy silver paper that tucks and folds a deli concoction into the most comfy (and retainable for leftovers) food on the planet. Yes, the planet. I checked.
The beef dangles off the end of the sandwich like Tom Cruise. The salami and capicola are partners in crime, inside men who house the rocket with Lady Provel and Colonel Garlic on the outer walls. The bread crumbles without breaking apart. By the halfway mark of my “eyes were bigger than my stomach” footlong selection, my appetite was quenched. The other half was coming with me for the latest Arnold movie binge later.
It’s the kind of meal that requires a Hill cigarette afterwards: a cannoli from Vitale’s Bakery and a macchiato from Shaw’s Coffee. If that doesn’t make your afternoon, please quit Cardinals baseball for a few days and live a little bit.
An Irish-owned spot on America’s last little slice of Italy in the country houses a sandwich that promises something else. Maybe Amighetti’s or Adriana’s can match them on some days, but surely not this Thursday afternoon.
Pay them a visit, and don’t mess around. Lean into this sandwich expedition, whether it’s your first time or the fourteenth.