Searching for Italy (Part II)

Smith Street Restaurant Row, Brooklyn

Searching for Italy (Part II)

                   This is a continuation of last month’s story entitled “Searching for Italy (Part I)”

Even if bread were to contain lard, it is said that “Man shall not live by bread alone…”  Indeed, we needed more than simply bread.  We needed some Italian nourishment, and fast.  That evening, about two blocks east of Henry Street lies the bustling thoroughfare, Smith Street.  Like most of the Carroll Garden streets, it is senso unico (one way).  These are important words to know especially in Italy, not only for your safety but to avoid getting a traffic ticket sometimes years after being caught on those ubiquitous Italian traffic cams.  I ought to know as I speak as an expert on this subject.  We could have chosen from the many ethnic places on hand, but as you might expect, thankfully, Italian restaurants dominated.  Many had extended their seating onto the street, some taking up spaces formerly reserved for parking.  With this, their “business’ vaccine” for survival, they had adjusted to the pandemic. 

    One of our Smith Street stops was at Mama Capri.  Its name amused me.  Apparently, it seeks to

The Colors of Mama Capri Put Us By the Sea

bring the Gulf of Naples to the docks of Brooklyn by featuring Amalfitana dishes with a special emphasis on the cuisine of Capri.  That is pretty ambitious.  With little separating Naples from Capri, I was curious if there could be any difference.  It’s all great.  After all, southern Italian Pasta a la Mare is Pasta a la Mare.  And of course, the “mama” is an illusion to those Italian matrons of the cucina, who when you enter their lair insist you eat something and never go away, God forbid, hungry. 

The ambiance was an Italian version of an upscale seaside escape.  It was bright, colorful, and airy.  Like many of the area restaurants, its configuration was trailer-like — small and narrow front to back. They had made good use of limited space, 

Mama Capri's Clean
Crisp Interior

wisely crafting a stunning decor.  Its light, bright colors gave off a cheerful beachy air.  Memory perfect, its yellow was reminiscent of those huge Positano lemons, while the turquoise evoked gazing off toward Capri over the cliff edges along Via Positanesi D’America into a transparent sea. 

    Also of note was their super friendly staff.  We met the owner-chef when he came by to chat.  He was from the Naples area, while our waitress majored in hospitality at the area’s community college.  She was of local Italian heritage, and in a couple of weeks, COVID be damned, she would be off on her first adventure to Italy.  She was delightfully engaging, which we enjoy, not some zombie-like “I’ll be your server” drone.  She couldn’t do enough for us.  Together, the two

Where We Sat at Mama Capri, 
You Could Imagine We
Were Seaside

 of them ran the operation that evening.  How, I’m not sure, but with us the only party inside and two other parties streetside, they managed just fine.

   I must say, our meals were delicious.  We started with imported burrata mozzarella cheese with basil pesto and cherry tomatoes, a Zuppa di Cozze (mussel soup) served with croutons, and a bottle of chilled, hard-to-find Falanghina wine, a Campania favorite of ours.  Why not, when you’re missing Italy and considering all we saved on airfare.  In addition to the wine, burrata cheese is special for us.  Where we come from in the States, like the Falanghina, it is a rare find.  Piercing its white outer casing it released its liquid treasure of leftover mozzarella scraps and cream as expected.  This was soon overtaken by additional Amalfi Coast flavors and aromas when we tucked into Spaghetti alle Vongole trimmed with parsley and Pasta alla Bolognese featuring beef ragù dusted with Parmigiano Reggiano cheese.  They were generous

Maria Elena"s
Spaghetti alle Vongole

with the Manila clams and Mare reported that her homemade pasta was first-rate.  Meat eater me devoured the Bolognese.  I usually have it with tagliatelle or fettuccine pasta.  When it was served featuring ridged rigatoni pasta, it was a surprise.  Possibly a Capri variant?  In any case, “When in Rome Capri do as … .”  It did not put me off in the least.  The meat sauce was tender, tasty, just right.  For added authenticity, our dishes were presented on colorful ceramic plates from Deruta, the dish capital of Italy we’d once visited, located in the region of Umbria.

Paolo's Pasta alla
Bolognese

   Another privileged position along Henry Street harbored another great find, Panzerotti Bites.  We came upon it quite by chance as we continued to explore this newfound pleasure garden called Smith Street.  The next day, when it got toward lunchtime, much like the experience in a supermarket’s cereal aisle, we were overloaded with choices.  With so many appealing venues to choose from, we honestly couldn’t decide on just one.  How about a few?  Just in time that phobic aversion to overly plump Americans kicked in and shooed away the fattened devil at my ear.  We were about to revert to that old standby and highly scientific, eeny, meeny, miny, moe selection method when we noticed Apulian Food written over the door front of Panzerotti Bites.  Was it possible they just might be Italian?  Cute place too.  It seemed like something different, worth investigating, so we ventured in.  It is not a fancy evening eatery with candlelight and service on Deruta

Panzerotti Bites Inviting Storefront

dinnerware.  No, Panzerotti Bites is more a drop-in bistro specializing in one particular type of street food.  And by type of food, I don’t mean the broad category of say food typically filling pages of an Italian restaurant’s menu or one restricted to the range of cuisine of, in this case, olive strewn Puglia.  It proved much narrower than that.  I’m talking about a single food item like a pizzeria that serves only pizza.  Here they prepared something to quickly satisfy any hunger pang with a Pugliese treat called a panzerotto.  And I was thinking Panzerotto was likely the name of the proprietor.  Of course, I was wrong, way off in fact.  A panzerotto was new to me.  I’d not heard the name before.  But then there was a time I didn’t know a sfogliatelle from a stuzzichini.  I’d only be guessing since I’m not a linguist, but I immediately wondered whether panzerotti, like many Italian words, might stem from a combination of other words.  The Professor Henry Higgins in me could, however, see that panza means belly, rotti is Italian for broken while otto means small.  I wondered.  A “little belly” or when opened a “broken belly” just

Meet a Hot Oozing Panzerotti

might describe how a panzerotti looks at different phases of its short existence on your plate (see photo). 

Right off, this particular specialty appeared to be a cross between an American hot pocket turnover and that fast-food creation from Naples, a turnover on the order of an oven-baked folded pizza called a calzone.  It proved superior to either of them; I’d return tomorrow for more.  Panzerotto, like the Spaghetti all'Assassina I recently wrote about, come straight from Bari, the major seaport along the Adriatic coastline of Puglia.  You might think of it as Italy’s east coast version of the west coast calzone, although while they may ooze similar fillings, their thinner crusts make them lighter for the fatphobic.  Far less doughy and moister, I immediately preferred them over a calzone.

Baked or deep-fried, these half-moon turnovers can be stuffed with an assortment of fillings.  If you like, you can hesitate at their open kitchen, visible through the glass partition, to follow the preparation of your panzerotti on your way to a cozy backyard space.  While salads, beer, wine, and espresso/coffee were also available, their fare is exclusively panzerotti.  These crescent-shaped pies come stuffed with ingredients including choices like mozzarella, tuna, crudo di Parma, artichokes, salami, and more.  The various combinations have names like the Barese (after Bari back home), combining mozzarella, tomato sauce, ham, black olives, anchovies. and capers.  Interestingly, especially

Vittoria and Pasquale of Panzerotti
Bites
(Photo courtesy of Vincenzo Paparella)

for sweet-toothed little ones, there was the Nutella featuring ricotta cheese and you guessed it, that chocolate and hazelnut spread, Nutella.  Then there was the Porcini that caught Maria Elena’s eye and which she made short work of, filled with mozzarella, porcini mushrooms, and black truffle.  As I surveyed the menu, the range of selections confined to a solitary choice triggered an interlude approaching another eeny, meeny, miny, moe predicament.  I wanted to get it right, get something I knew I’d like, but even before that first bite, they all appealed to me.  Should I try a couple?  Is that why the place was named Panzerotti BITES — you can’t eat just one?  It was the Crudo di Parma featuring mozzarella, sliced tomato, prosciutto crudo di Parma and baby arugula that most appealed to me along with a chaser of marinara dipping sauce.  It was all I’d imagined.  Forget the time of day, any excuse will do to enjoy this delicious treat that with each bite transports you to far off Puglia.  They are quite light, miraculously greaseless, and when taken home to enjoy later, they come back to life within minutes in the oven.  Just imagine you’re home, you just reheated a few panzerotti, poured yourself a glass of full-bodied Primitivo wine or a crisp Fiano di Avellino for added perfection,

A Trencher of Goodies

while on TV, live, Naples is playing round ball with Rome.  “What hath God wrought?” although Pasquale and Vittoria most certainly would have been involved.

   Panzerotti Bites is a dream come true, owned and operated by Pasquale De Ruvo and Vittoria Lattanzio a young enterprising Italian couple who like panzerotto are from Puglia.  Vittoria hales from Bitonto, nicknamed the "City of Olives," while Pasquale, as his surname intimates, is from Ruvo di Puglia, known for its vineyards as well as its ancient olive groves.  Both towns neighbor big city Bari, just to their east.  Like struggling artists making a start, here I’d come upon an enterprising couple who reminded me of Elena and Nick Gagliardi, another enterprising Italian couple from Gusto in Center Harbor, New Hampshire, who I recently wrote about.  Vittoria graduated from the University of Foreign Languages in Bari where she studied German, French, and English.  Afterward, she attended a master’s degree program on Export Management, also in Bari.  Little did she realize she would soon export herself and would put her English to good use.  Pasquale was experienced in the restaurant field and had been the co-owner of a well-known coffee shop in Ruvo di Puglia.  They made a perfect team, each complimenting the other: Vittoria was more than proficient in English and had mastered the art of

Step up and Order Your 
Panzerotto Here

dough making.  I may be giving too much away here but their dough is made from semolina flour imported from Puglia, extra virgin olive oil, iodized salt, water, and yeast.  She also possesses that essential spark of creativity and is open-minded.  Pasquale knew how to run a business, manage operations and employees, place orders, and transform customers into “regulars” with his Italian panache and contagious smile.  With them, one plus one was more than two.

Like many before them, it started as a dream.  Pasquale recounted that while they were happy in Italy, they were not fully satisfied.  They had their friends, family, good food, and weather, but knew that together they had something special to achieve in their lives but just not in Italy, not even in Europe.  “We loved preparing dinners for friends and family, and everybody told us we were such great hosts and cooked so well that we should open our own restaurant.  That’s how all began.”   Little did those who encouraged them to take the leap realize their dream would cross the Atlantic. 

Theirs is a common dream of many young Pugliesi.  But theirs was a first, for nobody left everything and everyone in Bari to risk all on a roll of the dice in a single-product eatery, selling a traditional food from the south of Italy, unknown in the USA.  Long odds for sure.  Theirs would not be the addition of another typical pizzeria.  They were certainly aware that what they were attempting was a courageous undertaking.  Together, they had visited the US and fallen in love with America.  Their dream grew to embrace moving to New York City to open their one-of-a-kind eatery.  They decided to leave their jobs, say “Ciao, a presto” (Bye, see you soon) to their families and come to the City of Dreams, the city Sinatra crooned “Never Sleeps” to find the face of their dream.  On one particular trip, “It was a snowy day when we found the perfect spot for our concept in Carroll Gardens.  We were super happy and motivated when we went back home to Puglia with a lease in hand…and then we thought: ‘Ok, we are moving to the other side of the world …what about

Panzerotti Bites Front Office

getting married?’ ”  They had been together since 2009.  Pasquale worked at her hometown school.  All of 19 years old, Vittoria was what we’d call a high school senior.  One day while she was buying lunch, Pasquale caught a glimpse of her and wanted to meet her.  This was arranged through friends and soon they began dating.  “He was such a great guy.  Everybody loved Pasquale in my school”.  I didn’t hear Pasquale’s version of how they met, but by the end of that year, they were fidanzata (engaged).  Italians expect young couples to get married, especially if the couple will move to a faraway place.  It was time.  Planning for the wedding moved ahead at a prodigious pace.  To expedite matters, they were married in city hall.  They organized everything, from wedding dress and suit to a reception for 50 close friends and family in all of 15 days.  Following the joyful occasion, they left Italy each with two pieces of luggage, one-way airline tickets, and their minds full of hopes as well as uncertainty.  It hasn’t been easy since the day they watched the coastline of Italy fade in the distance as they raced toward a new horizon. 

The transatlantic move had been one thing but there was plenty still ahead.  Red tape was a nightmare.  For their Visa, it took six months for an appointment in Rome and two years to create a business plan along with the myriad of additional documents.  When approval day arrived, they were in NYC.  Excited, they immediately took a flight from NY to the doors of the US Embassy in Rome.  Unfortunately, their assigned counselor had had an accident.  Easier said than done, they were told to book a new appointment.  Now shocked, they learned that the next available appointment was four months away.  Their surprise mixed with disappointment as they urgently explained their situation in an appeal for someone else to interview them.  Sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you get upgraded to first class.  They left six hours later with their Investor Visa in hand.  Score one for the good guys!

They opened on 7 January 2018 and now, after almost four years, plus surviving COVID, they thrive on what they’ve created, happier than ever. “It has been a big challenge for us.  We changed apartments five times in four years, we had to share it with roommates, and even at one point do an Airbnb.”  “We did sacrifice a lot, working for the first year seven days a week from noon to 11 pm.  When we went home, we had to take care of the house and cook dinner.  No family to help, we did everything ourselves.”  As for family, when customers asked if they had children, they replied that the restaurant was their son.  “He demands a lot of energy from us, and we are constantly taking care of him, seeing him grow up.  We cannot leave him alone, not even a day, as every day something happens.  We are a family now, we even adopted three rescued cats a few months ago.”  

They share many interests and for them, like many Italians I know, family and respect mean everything.  “Even when we work, we want to do things perfectly, because our reputation hinges on it.  With Panzerotti Bites we brought the entire feeling and importance of our Puglia here.  We opened the store not solely to make money, but also to introduce our region to the US.  Not a lot of people care more for their reputation than money.  If you tell me: make a panzerotto with spaghetti and you'll be rich, we’ll never do that.  We want to teach Americans why a panzerotti is so special to us.”

I’ve always sensed it isn’t anywhere approaching easy to start a restaurant.  Then running one

Taking a Break at Panzerotti Bites
(Photo Courtesy of Robert di Scalfani)

demands incredible commitment.  I’ve no feel whatsoever attempting both.  Commitment to both their restaurant and nurturing their relationship was totally consuming and continually demanding.  It is one business that strains the very best, that demands the very best.  Contrary to what Sherlock Holmes might say, “Elementary, my dear Watson,” it is not a trouble-free, hands-off task for the faint of heart.  You may understand how after listening to their story, I had a feeling of connectedness.  It was something I hadn’t sensed while at Mama Capri the night earlier.  Somehow, searching for Italy, I’d saved the best for last or maybe it found me.  No glitz or glitter here, just offering what they’d grown up with to the average American Joe walking along Smith Street, Brooklyn.  Yes, theirs is a big dream and a risky one.

Vittoria tells it like this:

“A lot of people thought we were crazy.  But in our hearts, we knew panzerotti were going to be loved by the American public.  And it’s because Panzerotto are rich in history and tradition, it’s delicious, perfect for every occasion.  Panzerotto mean family, staying together, preparing it together, and enjoying it together.  We both truly believed in this project and together we were ready for it.  Sometimes, we meet couples where only one of the partners is willing to move abroad, and the other one is not, and there’s nothing to be done about it.  One partner cannot force the other to change life completely.  Instead, we were super excited to create something new in New York, from scratch, together.  It was exciting that everything was ours: from the recipe to the logo, from the trade dress to the packaging, to the business plan.  It took four years to create the project of exporting panzerotti to New York.”

Pasquale continued:

“Thankfully, our relationship has strengthened since we arrived.  But how beautiful it is to be able to call to your partner in the kitchen saying: ‘Amore, can you prepare two Classics please?’  Customers love that interaction.  For Italians like us, opening an eatery means bringing a piece of our hearts and tradition to every plate you serve them, and if you are a couple that message is transmitted even easier.  Americans love stories.  If they see you are the owners and the cook of the place, they will support you.”

Though Carroll Gardens wasn’t really Italy, it was Italian with glimpses of the real thing from those we met through to the traditions they’d brought with them.  Absent Italy’s ancient architecture, the people were the same as was their humble banquet like panzerotti and lard bread, thanks to brave dreamers like Vittoria and Pasquale.  Struggle, even failures, give us strength.  Someday, when their tasks are over, it’s doubtful they will ever relinquish the memories they made together or the uncertainty they’ve endured and overcame that gave their lives its taste.  Wishful thinking — I wish I could be a regular.  But I can wish them the best and welcome them to America, land of the free, and like you, home of the brave.

From That Rogue Tourist,

Paolo