Behind the Scenes with a Soppressetta-Making Family Ahead of United Theatre’s SoupyFest

The state of Rhode Island is already known for being tight-knit, but in Westerly, the community bond is especially close. If you’re Italian-American, it’s not hard to rattle off a few surnames and nicknames and find a relation in common; mention making soupy in your basement, and suddenly everyone is your friend.

Also known as soppressata, soupy is “a cured pork sausage, like a spicier version of pepperoni,” describes Lou Toscano, a member of Westerly’s Italian-American community. Originally from Southern Italy, soppressata was traditionally prepared during the winter. When Italians immigrated to Westerly to work in the quarries nearby, they brought their recipes and traditions with them. The sausage takes about seven weeks to cure, and many families would eat their first cured sticks of soupy as part of their Easter meal, with eggs and frittata. Toscano, like many others in Westerly, carries on this legacy – mixing the meat, stuffing the sausages, and hanging the links right in his basement.

Making soppressata is a link to the Old World and to family members left behind; now it’s deeply embedded in the town’s culture, too. “This has been going on forever and ever in Westerly. I’ve never heard of any other place in New England that keeps up this tradition,” Toscano explains. This is what motivated Tony Nunes, artistic director of The United Theatre in Westerly, to start hosting a soupy event.

Nunes recalls that when he first pitched the idea of an event centered around soupy about five years ago, he was laughed out of the office. Last year, Nunes brought it up again, connecting it to an even grander idea of “food-related entertainment” (which has a massive market), and this time he was taken seriously. Thus, SoupyFest was born in 2024, with the goal of “elevating regional food while acknowledging the family traditions and heritage,” Nunes says. 

The festival brings together a dozen local vendors in The United’s black box auditorium, all of whom prepare a soupy-related dish to serve attendees (tickets are required, and this year, they sold out within seconds). There are also open bars and live traditional folk music to create the “atmosphere of an Italian market.” Because of the mass appeal, Nunes and his team worked this year to create lead-up events to this month’s festival.

The jewel of SoupyFest, however, stems from good-natured competition between the Westerly families who partake in the tradition of making soppressata. Recipes passed down over generations are put to the taste test. Leading up to the main event, a large panel of judges samples nearly 70 sticks of soupy and must narrow them down to the top 10. The judging follows a strict, “scientific” rubric created by lead judge, chef, and lauded culinary instructor David Miguel that establishes rigorous guidelines to define what makes the best soupy. “People take it very seriously,” Nunes explains, so he ensured there was a process to eliminate as much personal taste bias as possible.

During the festival itself, a panel of celebrity judges samples and votes to name the top three soupy winners, a point of hotly contested Italian pride. Last year, Toscano and his family placed in the top 10. He thinks he can do even better this year, and has set his eyes on the prize – mostly bragging rights, but there is also a golden soupy trophy for the winner.

Regardless of the competition, Toscano finds a quiet joy and pride in carrying on his family’s tradition. “I remember making it with my grandmother and father when I was probably seven, eight, nine years old. When my father died, I took it over. That’s the whole point of soupy. It’s a family tradition. I hope when I go, my son or nephew will continue.”

Toscano is generous enough to invite me to witness the process, which includes the family  – his wife and son, a nephew, and a friend – gathering in the kitchen to prepare and stuff sausages during the all-morning affair. He starts with his favorite part: frying up the soupy meat and eating it with “good Italian bread” to check the spices – does it need more paprika, black pepper, or something else? In fried patty form, it tastes salty because salt is the main curing agent, but as it cures, the salt dissipates and leaves behind a glorious-tasting hard sausage.

With experience, Italians and chefs know, comes the “feel” for spices. Toscano’s grandmother and father had it, but in his first year leading the process, Toscano tried to be a “big shot” by swearing he could “feel” the recipe, he joked. He used far too much salt and ruined the batch. Since then, Toscano follows his grandmother’s handwritten recipe card, though from years of mastery, he has probably developed the coveted sense for it, just like she and his father had.

“This used to be literally a strictly Italian tradition,” Toscano says over the grinding of the meat machine, hands deftly filling casing after casing. “But as time goes on, a lot of people are making it themselves; it’s become a community tradition,” not just for Italians, but for everyone – Westerlians and beyond.

Making soupy is like a dance in the kitchen – a wordless affair of sharp elbows, nods, and good-natured glares as the family works and tells stories, sharing laughter, frustration, memories, and, of course, food. It’s what makes soupy more than just a dish, and this camaraderie is the secret ingredient that makes the act synonymous with community in Westerly.