Rumor (Willis) has it that somewhere along the line, the DeMarinis family was split by a dispute powerful enough to cause the DeMarinis sons — Dom and Phil — to branch out and open their own DeMarinis pizza parlor not but two blocks away from MaMa DeMarinis’. I like to think it was all Jenga-related.

Though family feuds are never a good thing, especially when talking about the TV game show Family Feud, we thought it only fair to give both DeMarinis a try to see if one family’s heart-wrenching rift delivered us the sweet fruits of another bomb-ass Bay View pizza joint. Spoiler: It did.

If you were to give me a slice of both MaMa DeMarinis’ and Dom & Phil DeMarinis’ pizza, I’d first thank you for the wonderfully delicious gift by offering you a sensual massage (no fat chix!). Secondly, I’d have no fucking idea which slice came from where. Pizza-wise, both are served on rectangular baking pans; each are cut into square slices and feature fresh mushrooms; and both are good as He11! Some people are staunch advocates of Dom & Phil’s, while hating MaMa’s. Other’s are all up in MaMa’s shit and don’t like the bros.

Personally, I cast no stones in terms of dually delicious pizza served in old fashioned neighborhood settings. I like them both so much that it’s simply impossible to pick my favorite DeMarinis location. That said, I pick Dom & Phil’s.

THE GOOD: If you want in depth pizza talk, look at my MaMa Demarinis post linked above. I feel it’s nearly identical… apart from Bros DM’s ‘za having better sausage (made in house, by the way). What pushes this location over the edge into my favorite is the location. Not only is there a patio, a significantly more spacious interior and a fully stocked bar, there’s a God damn game room up in this bitch. Noyce! It’s small, but you know the old adage… “A small game room is better than a good day of golf” or something. Plus, they have Friday Fish Fry, which is always a great thing for a restaurant to have.

THE BAD: Their cheese bread kind of sucks choad. Soggy bread with lukewarm cheese. I can do that in my sleep. And I have! Additionally, the restaurant is kind of hard to find if you’re not from Bay View and you’ve never been there before. It’s nestled deep within the confines of the Bermuda Triangle of Great Lakes-adjacent pizza. 

TRY: Get a pint of Leinie’s Nut Brown. When the bartender is filling your glass, turn to a friend and say, “I heard this shit makes you nut brown” loud enough for the barkeep to overhear. Trust me, the reaction will be worth it. Oh yeah, get a sausage and mushroom pizza. Tis’ bonerrific.

RATING: An alleged familial dispute never tasted so good — not including the near-identical MaMa DeMarinis’ down the street.

Not that there’s anything wrong with dim lighting. There are plenty of times when a more intimate setting would be appropriate. Like if I was having dinner with a nice lady instead of a dude friend. Anyway, T. Mar and I got a table and commenced with the romancing.

In addition to pizza, their menu features a wide variety of pastas and salads, as well as a few steak and seafood options. As for the pizza, they offer four different kinds of crust: Thin, Virgin, Deep Dish, and Stuffed. The stuffed crust za was recommended, so we went straight to that. We decided to go all out and get the veggie, featuring mushrooms, onions, green peppers, black olives and tomatoes. The wait for stuffed crust is a little longer (the menu states 25 minutes, but I don’t think it was quite that long), so we ordered some Lakefront brews and settled in.

I hate when the waiter sneaks up on you

When I think of “stuffed crust,” I think of cheese in the crust. Tenuta’s stuffed crust takes that definition a bit differently, essentially wrapping the entire pizza in crust. It was an impressive beast we had before us, and I don’t think we had any hope of finishing the entire thing.

THE GOOD: The pizza was much larger than either of us had expected. Which was good, since the veggie stuffed crust was more than $20, and we definitely felt like we were getting our money’s worth. All of the toppings (more accurately “fillings” in this case) tasted extremely fresh. Our waiter was definitely not one of those creepy white things from The Descent and had the entire beer list memorized.

Leftovers

TRY: If you’re going with the stuffed crust, I would recommend adding extra sauce and/or extra cheese to your pie. I mean, the pizza was good as it was, but it would have been a lot better with something to help cancel out the excess crust. The stuffed crust was an intimidating pie that two grown Doctors of Za couldn’t even manage eat finish half of, so maybe don’t go with the large unless you have a bigger group. Or if you have some sort of death wish.

I will definitely be returning to Tenuta’s at some point to try their other pizza varieties. I think I would prefer to get it as take-out and spare myself from the awkward romantic lighting thing. Unless it’s, you know, an actual date-type situation. Ladies?

RATING: Like going spelunking and not getting brutally murdered by strange cave creatures.

I wonder if they're Italian.

As Ronnie, a DoZ reader named Brad and I came to know, the tucked away throwback that is MaMa DeMarinis’ is the kind of place you go when you initially  attempted to go to a different pizza place because it had a funny TV ad a few years back, you witness a drug deal outside of that (now closed) restaurant, and you drive around aimlessly until someone eventually remember it exists. That’s a story for another day… but that’s how we finally happened upon the elder most of the Bay View restaurants bearing the DeMarinis’ name last week.

Nearly dying on 27th Street after witnessing a felony aside, I’m glad for the night’s events, if only because they led us to one of the better and more unique pizzerias the Milwaukee area has to offer. Read on as I tell you why this run down neighborhood restaurant isn’t nearly as getting-AIDS-worthy as our own Sto Cazzo insists it is.

Old and shitty looking as it is, one must assume MaMa DeMarinis’ is a place rich in history. Of course, I’m not going to actually look into its history because history is…
A.) Boring
B.) Subjective and constantly changing
C.) More like “her story.” Am I right, ladies? HAAAAAAY!
D.) All of the above
… but walking into the establishment, you can operate under the assumption that little, if anything, has changed since it opened nearly 6,000 years ago. The same dingy cast of ancient regulars seem to line the bar, the same kind-hearted waitresses (who started the job in the days when women’s rights was just a clever oxymoron used as means of humor in silent movies) still take your order, and subsequently bring out the same flavorful baking pan pizzas they used to feed to the dinosaurs that once roamed and ruled the land where Cafe Centraal now stands.

But with pizza so tasty, I’m personally glad nothing has seemed to change. MaMa’s homemade sausage is that of wet dreams, they basically douched our pizza in delicious and semi-spicy sauce, FRESH MUSHROOMS, and they had our Za to us pretty much immediately. Also, they are one of the few pizzeria’s I know of to offer vegan cheese, if you’re into that thing. 

To me, it tastes almost exactly like Dom and Phil DeMarinis’ pizza (her sons, which Sto Cazzo will eventually fill you in on). Regardless, on Za skills alone, I still wish MaMa DeMarinis was my mom — I mean, unless she’s totally hot or something. That could be weird thing for a son deal with.

Beyond baseball’s opening day, open bars at weddings, and things I’ve put off until my thirties like marriage and kids (rhythm method forbid), nothing I do really evokes that sense of passion, longing and anticipation I routinely felt when I was younger. Maybe I’ve learned not to expect much from the world, or maybe I’m just a realist.

I’m not sure exactly why, but I looked forward to eating at Classic Slice.

I was first exposed to this Bay View restaurant when I stumbled on their MySpace page. I can’t recall exactly when that was, but taking the “MySpace page” aspect of the memory into account, it was probably around two years ago. What sparked my interest was the shear enormity of the slices, and the near infinite onslaught of available toppings didn’t hurt either.

After a seemingly endless ride down KK into the heart of Bay View, an even longer wait to shove a hot Classic Slice slice in my mouth was about to end. Walking into the near empty eatery was like the scene in Jurassic Park when they first see the island from the helicopter. I was into it.

The words on the chalkboard left of the counter were that of significant scripture. Toppings like: Fresh mushrooms, spinach, vegan sausage, peperoni, tomato pieces, bacon, feta cheese, peppers — and so many more made my knees weak and my inseam tight. I didn’t know what to get, but figuring I’d make Classic Slice an integral part of my Cactus Club speed-sobriety plan, I decided to listen to my heart on this, my virgin experience.

Turns out my heart is an asshole.

I went with fresh mushrooms and tomatoes on my slice. The massive slice lived up to its billing, big enough to serve as a makeshift blanket for a premature baby. But I wasn’t impressed with the portions of either topping. If I knew I’d be getting four mushroom pieces and a third of a gimp Roma tomato, I would’ve just gone with extra cheese or ordered two slices.

THE GOOD: The sauce. Holy shit, I liked the sauce. It’s a thick, magically zesty and flavorful combination. It was the sauce equal of what I imagine getting a blumpkin to be like. The cheese was slightly greasy, but in a good way. For those not into grease, Ronnie’s spinach and feta slice didn’t look too bad, so maybe not being topping raped by mushroom and tomato is the way to go.

THE BAD: Beyond the scant toppings, it’s a bit pricey. Each topping is 55 cents, so two slices with two toppings apiece comes in around $11. Again, if you got 55 cents worth of your preferred topping, it’s well worth it. But $11 for $8.50 worth of pizza (and no drinks) is like what I imagine giving a blumpkin to be like.

TRY: Vegan sausage. I’m no longer a vegetarian, but I’m always interested in trying vegan alternatives. That’s on my radar for next time, along with the feta – which seemed to be adequately portioned.

I liked Classic Slice, but just like your birthday, that highly-anticipated follow-up to your favorite band’s best album, and most anything else, its not worth getting worked up over. Is it Opening Day yet?

Rating: 91.7