Gonella’s Italian Subs

Growing up in Southwest Detroit, I used to see it often: at lunchtime, at Gonella’s on Oakwood, there would be a line 20 patrons deep around the deli case, and even more people hanging-out in the aisles looking at the Stella D’oro and olive oil, and even more people meandering around the curious olive bar. Many local workmen would venture into the store, collecting orders made by phone, for entire crews of laborers—dozens of sandwiches for employees of surrounding manufacturers. They came in wearing the gear that bespoke their industry: coveralled linemen, Carharted construction workers, hard-hat wearers, brick layers, pipe-fitters, mechanics, electricians, and those that wore “greens,”  the uniform of the Rouge and Great Lakes steelworkers. These were the men that kept Detroit humming. 

The 8-layer sub, Gonella’s, Detroit 

Most of Gonella’s is nondescript; shelves are filled with Better Made chips, snacks, and candy, and coolers are stocked with Faygo pop, beer, and bottled water; that’s just par for the course. What sets Gonella’s apart is that it’s been making the perfect, delectable Italian hoagies at the back counter, and wrapping them in white butcher paper for 75 years.  

Gonella’s sandwiches are made in layers. A 6-layer sandwich includes hard salami, cotto salami, smoked ham, mortadella, capicola, and a layer of provolone cheese. I’ve never had the guts to go higher than 8 layers, but one not bound by dietary restriction could venture higher with a 12-layer, and as high as 18. The result is something like an Italian muffaletta, minus the olive salad, on really good bread. The turkey sub, offered as an alternative to the traditional sandwich, is not as interesting, but equally as filling. All subs are topped with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and a homemade dressing—a combination of oil, vinegar, and herbs—the unmistakable secret to their sandwich success. 

Gonella’s Italian Sub, Gonella’s, Detroit 

The true mark of a Gonella’s regular is that they prefer the hard roll. Gonellas serves its impeccable hoagies on either hard or soft loaves of 9”, fresh baked Italian bread. The texture from a hard roll with an airy interior is the perfect compliment for rich meats, crunchy shredded lettuce, and plump tomatoes. If you make it in late for lunch, you will no doubt hear the dreaded statement, “We’re all out of hard roll,” in which case you settle for soft, which still produces a sandwich that is lightyears beyond Subway and faster than what you could concoct in your own kitchen. 

Everyone in the know obtains an extra serving of Gonella’s dressing on the side, so as to later rejuvenate their sandwich with fresh oil, since much of it will have escaped the sub and end up on the butcher paper.