What’s to be said about pizza that hasn’t already been said by an anthropomorphized turtle? Totally tubular, most radical, or a bit gnar gnar with the habanero. Sure, it sounds out there, but after a hearty bite of the perfect slice, it starts making sense. Pizza has personality. It invites playfulness. At times, it can be absurd. Pizzerias aren’t just restaurants; they’re cornerstones in our communities. They’re great for a first date or a 50th anniversary, for toddlers and teenagers, for picky eaters and adventurous ones. Seriously, who doesn’t like pizza?
Sugar River Pizza threw its hat into the Greater Madison pizza ring in 2009, and it came out strong—an early success owner Sarah Thomas credits to the jobs she’s had along the way. “I had been a cook at Bluephies and Pizza Pit in the ’90s, which are two very different restaurants. … Pizza Pit back then, they sent us to pizza school. When you were a cook there, you really got to learn. And they did everything from scratch. That’s where I learned to make dough and all that kind of stuff. And the head chef at Bluephies, he taught me a lot about dressings and a love for the kitchen.”
Sugar River Pizza’s original location was a humble 1,000-square-foot space in Belleville, Wisconsin, meant as a side project to go along with Sarah’s job at Epic. Her mother had also just retired from the corporate world, so she was onboard along with Sarah’s dad, who built the front counter. Sarah even called in old Pizza Pit friends to help with the operation. It wasn’t long before dad developed an ambitious vision of a Sugar River Pizza empire and mom found she simply loved making pizzas.
In 2012, Sarah and her parents bought a space in New Glarus to open their second location. Sarah says it was “basically a shed. I remember our contractor looked at it with us, and he was like, ‘I have no idea how long it’ll take to renovate this.’” There would be a few steps before Sarah could transition out of Epic, but the team was working hard to get things running.
Then came the day when a developer in Verona visited the New Glarus restaurant. Sarah says, “I was looking to retire from my corporate gig, so he talked me into this spot.” The spot is their current corner-cap location in Verona. Though Sarah was initially interested in something smaller, closer to 2,000 square feet, she started to see what a larger space with presence would provide.
As the concept of Sugar River Pizza took shape, the Belleville location just wasn’t fitting in. They sold the place in 2016 to Great Scott’s Pizza, which would never open before exchanging hands yet again, and again, and again. “It’s a tough spot for restaurants, as Big Kat’s BBQ & Grill just closed,” says Sarah.
Today, there are three Sugar River Pizza locations. “New Glarus was owned by my parents, and my husband and I own this one in Verona. But we operate as one unit. I’m the chief financial officer for the whole kit and kaboodle. My mom runs New Glarus, she’s [redacted], don’t put that in the article, she would murder me. And my sister runs the Sun Prairie restaurant. She got her master’s degree in philosophy, so restaurants.”
Sarah really can’t say enough about how vital her family has been for Sugar River Pizza’s success. Her mother has a lot on her plate owning both the New Glarus and Sun Prairie location after her husband passed over a year ago, but she hasn’t slowed down. And Sarah’s sister took on a big role to fill dad’s shoes.
Along with the family’s commitment to the very modest Sugar River Pizza empire, one ingredient provided the consistency needed to hold everything together: the cheese. Every ingredient has stood the test of time, from the dough to the sauce, but the perfect cheese is essential to Sarah—her go-to slice being a good old-fashioned cheese pizza. Even on her recent trip to New Orleans, by day four, she was done with seafood and just needed a slice of that cheese.
Back to Sugar River’s cheese: a signature blend from the renowned Silver & Lewis Cheese Co-op in Monticello. Surprisingly, Sarah tells me she’s the only pizzeria in the area working with them. But maybe when you order a pizza, instead of the signature blend, you’re just looking for fresh mozzarella, cheddar, goat cheese, feta, habanero pepper jack, whipped ricotta, or some Violife vegan cheese to add some savory to your sauce. Well, it’s all there, most of it made right here in Wisconsin.
Sarah is quite proud of the relationships she’s built with her vendors, each one an asset either adding something delicious to a classic or inspiring something new. “We’ve built some great relationships,” says Sarah. “Rhoda’s Mustard out of Belleville, Martin & Sons maple syrup, New Life Greens. It’s been a big part of what makes it fun for us. Going to the Farmers’ Market, finding something local.” Recently, Sarah reached out to a hot sauce maker she met at the Seven Acres Christkindlmarket, so a Sugar River Pizza hot sauce could be on the horizon.
Just as important to Sarah as her vendor relationships are the ones she’s built with her employees, who fill the gaps in Sarah’s skill set—namely bartending. “Christine is my beer connoisseur here. She does an amazing job with our vendors to try to bring in some really unique stuff. And then Rachel and April handle our liquor side of things. Rachel is huge into mocktails, so we’ve been really expanding that. They put the same effort into the bar that we put into the food.”
After 16 years of Sugar River Pizza, Sarah has come to better understand why she does what she does. For these articles, she used to have a whole spiel prepared, but now it’s about the conversation. I learned about her husband being a farmer and how they use his beef in their products. How Sal from Aztec Taqueria helped her through some tough times at work. How she knows all her staff, including graduation dates and events going on in their lives. And how she’s gotten to learn so much about her regulars and watch their children grow and lives change. Sarah says Sugar River’s bestselling pizza isn’t anything special. It’s just the Deluxe. But that pizza embodies the relationships she’s built over the years, each slice a testament to how a pie brings community together.
