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OP-ED: The Greatest Restaurant Cityin America isHurting MoreThan You Know

The 1970sIts impact on Little Italy andThe Bronx

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CONTENTS1970s - Its Impact on Little Italy and The Bronx ......................4The Greatest Restaurant City in America is Hurting More Than You Know.............................................14

Don’t Snap on Your Friend’s Mother............................................18Travelin’ Cousins Tour -Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Church ..............................................24

CONTRIBUTORSARTURO VIALE .........................................................................EditorELISA VALENTINO...................................................Contributing WriterARTURO VIALE.........................................................Contributing WriterFRANK BRUNI...............................................................Op-Ed Contributor

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4 Mangia Magazine

Mangia Magazine 5

Most people think that a new year is anew beginning. Out with the old and in with the new.We make New Year’s resolutions and hope that thingswill be better than the previous year. This becomes es-pecially true with the turn of a decade. I’m not surewhy. Perhaps changing two numbers in the calendaryear, instead of one, makes the transition more obvi-ous. The overall mood of theBronx, however, did not dra-matically change when theball fell in Times Square onJanuary 1, 1970. Crime in theborough, unfortunately, wasstill on the rise and the warwas still waging in Vietnam.

There are people whofeel that Little Italy is a roped-off section of the Bronx - com-pletely untouched by theoutside world - but this is nottrue. We were very much apart of what was going on atthe time in the borough. Al-though I was still young in1970, I know friends who hadfathers, and older brothers,who lost their lives to eitherthe crimes of the street or thewar in Southeast Asia.

COPPOLA MADE AN OFFERTHAT MARIO REFUSED

In 1971, Hollywoodcame knocking on Little Italy’sdoor once again. For the firsttime since Marty struck Acad-emy Award gold in 1955, Bel-mont was approached for the filming of another majorbig-screen blockbuster set to open in 1972. FrancisFord Coppola was commissioned to direct the screenproduction of Mario Puzo’s bestseller, The Godfather.

Coppola wanted a scene to be shot in Mario’s Restau-rant on Arthur Avenue. When owner Mario Migliuccilearned the scene would include the murder of a gang-ster and a local police captain, he politely passed onthe offer. Mario did not want his wholesome familyrestaurant linked, in any way, with mob violence.

Although The Godfatherwent on to be an iconicclassic, Mario and his family never regretted the deci-sion. Years later, Mario’s son, Joseph Migliucci, ap-

proved a scene from HBO’s hitseries ‘The Sopranos’ to befilmed in the restaurant in1999. He believes his father,who passed away in 1998,would have enjoyed having theshow filmed there because itonly portrayed the cast eatingdinner after a Billy Joel concert,not a murder scene.

“I want people to under-stand that the only reason myfather didn’t want The Godfa-ther shot here was because ofthe killing that happened in thescene.”

HOW WOULD YOU LIKE A NICEDRAFT... “NO THANKS.”

Today, young men hearthe word “draft” and smile –thinking of a tall, ice cold beercoming their way. But if youwere around in the late sixtiesand early seventies, it had anentirely different meaning. By1973, the war had been offi-cially/unofficially waging inVietnam for two decades. Menwere required to register with

the Selected Service after their eighteenth birthday –making them eligible to be “drafted” into military serv-ice between the ages of 18 to 25 for a service require-ment of 21 months. If it was a time of peace, it was aworrisome proposition, to say the least. But with a war

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6 Mangia Magazine

waging overseas, it was outright nerve-wracking. Youngmen in Belmont, and all across the country, waited onpins and needles – dreading the possibility of beingcalled into active duty. In what many feel was a polit-ical maneuver to quell demonstrations against the war,President Nixon abolished The Selective Service Act of1948. On July 1, 1973, the draft officially ended and theall-volunteer force was established.

LITTLE ITALY CONTRIBUTES TO HOLLYWOOD IN 1973

When Hollywood came back to the Bronx in1973, Little Italy did not refuse. Francis Ford Coppola’sThe Godfather had exploded at the box office and a se-quel went into production for the following year. TheGodfather, Part IIwas released in 1974 – and while therewere no scenes shot here in Belmont – the neighbor-hood did make a contribution to the film. DominicChianese, from Prospect Avenue and 187th Street,played Johnny Ola - a rival gang member to the Cor-leone Crime family. Although Johnny Ola is killed bythe end of the film, he is seen throughout the movieand is a significant character in the film’s plot. TheGodfather, Parts I & II achieved icon status, becomingthe first movies whose original and sequel both wonthe Academy Award® for Best Picture.

Dominic went on to appear in other 1970smovie classics including Dog Day Afternoon (1975), Allthe President’s Men (1976) and And Justice for All (1979).The seventies were good to him on the big screen.While he did have his television moments in thedecade as well, appearing in Kojak and other shows,

Dominic’s iconic role on the small screen would comein the decades ahead.

On a lesser-known note, scenes of the 1973thriller The Exorcist were filmed in Fordham Univer-sity’s Hughes Hall. (Wow, am I glad I didn’t know thatwhen I went there. That would have creeped me out!)

BELMONT MERCHANTS UNITE FOR THE GOOD OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD

By the mid-1970s, the neighborhood was bothshrinking in area, yet growing in popularity – becom-ing more condensed. It was obvious that Belmont wasin a dire transition period. A neighborhood that wasonce considered to stretch from Southern Boulevard toThird Avenue was now much, much smaller in geog-raphy. People were leaving, but many people stillwanted to stay. If Little Italy was to survive the socioe-conomic upheavals of the time, it was going to have tobe done in a collaborative effort.

In 1975, a group of local merchants banded to-gether and formed “The Arthur Avenue and East 187thSt. Merchant’s Association.” Men like Lou Izzo, JerryKreigal, Frank Simeone, Frank Giordano, Sam Bulfa-monte, and Vincent Borghese, just to name a few,walked around the neighborhood - with hat in hand -and collected money for local projects. Yearly dinnerdances, complete with honorees and souvenir journals,were organized - not only to raise money - but as ameans of joining together and interacting with eachother. For the first time, the “family” of the pastry shopon 187th Street - were eating and dancing - with the“family” of the butcher shop on Arthur Avenue. It was

The Godfather. 1972Mario’s Restaurant refuses the request of Francis Ford Coppola of having amurder scene from The Godfather shot in their Little Italy restaurant. Photo © Paramount Pictures

The Godfather, Part II. 1974John Cazale and Dominic Chianese in scene from The Godfather, Part II.Photo © Paramount Pictures

cont. on page 8

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8 Mangia Magazine8 Mangia Magazine

a symbol of solidarity, just when the neighborhood neededit most.

Eventually, the Association hired a PR firm whichcreated a beautiful red, white and green logo to signify theunity of the area. Hand-drawn five-story tenement build-ings, complete with mom and pops stores at the main level,were implemented in the logo, which soon became thesymbol of Little Italy. “The Good Taste of Tradition” was theslogan agreed upon and was written right into the artworkitself. Reverse-sticking decals of the logo were seenthroughout the area in store windows – showing theirmembership and dedication to the community. The Asso-ciation created logo-clad shopping bags and t-shirts in bulkand sold them to merchant members, at cost, to furtherunify the look of the area.

By the way, that silly red, white and green logo be-came part of the very fabric of the community. It was even-tually passed on to the Belmont Small BusinessAssociation, and today is still the logo of the Belmont Busi-ness Improvement District - almost fifty years later. It ishighly recognizable and can be seen world-wide, all overthe internet.

1977 - A YEAR THAT NO BRONXITE WILL EVER FORGET

The ebb and flow of the 1970s continued throughdecade. The 1977 blackout that hit New York was a crisisthat came amidst a sweltering heat wave. At 9:30 pm onJuly 13th, a bolt of lightning struck an electrical substationin Westchester. Soon after, another lightning strike took outtwo more power lines, and when the power plant inQueens went down, the entire city went dark.

Opportunistic thieves grabbed whatever they couldget their hands on - from luxury cars to sneakers to toasterovens. The sweltering streets became a battleground. Thechaos was so overwhelming, a reporter from the New YorkPost commented that “even the looters were being mugged.”

Power was slowly restored over the next day, withthe entire city online by 10:39 p.m. However, July 14th wasa bittersweet day. In all, 1,616 stores were damaged in loot-ing and rioting. A total of 1,037 fires were responded to, in-cluding 14 multiple-alarm fires. In the largest mass arrestin city history, 3,776 people were arrested.

I was only thirteen in 1977, not yet a merchant - oreven an adult for that matter. But to the best of my memory,Little Italy was spared any major incidents, if any. I wasproud to be from Belmont that day, but I was still a Bronxnative – born and raised. What I witnessed on the TV that

Son of Sam Murders. August, 1977A) Daily News “Son of Sam” suspect sketch.B) David Berkowitz is arrested in Yonkers on August 10, 1977,after two year killing spree throughout the city.

New York City Blackout. July 13, 1977Ominous view of Manhattan skyline taken as the morning sun roseon July 14, 1977.

Elvis Presley Dies. August 16, 1977David Brinkley announces the death of Elvis Presley.

Merchant Association Membership Stickers Reverse sticking window decals are displayed throughout the areahighlighting the famous Little Italy logo. Stickers show membershipto the Arthur Avenue & East 187th Street Merchants’ Association.

cont. on page 10

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Yankees take World Series. October 18, 1977Yankee right fielder Reggie Jackson hits homerun off of Dodger knuckle-ball pitcherCharlie Hough. It was Jackson’s third homerun of the game, on three consecutive atbats - all on the first pitch. Yankees won series in six games and Jackson was namedseries MVP. Photo © MLB & New York Yankees

Daily News front page story. October 5, 1977President Jimmy Carter visits poverty stricken South Bronx. Article shines nationallight on problematic economic turn of the borough. Photo © New York Daily News

“The Bronx isBurning.” 1977Goodyear blimpaerial shot ofGame Two of1977 World Seriesbetween Yankeesand Dodgers.CommentatorsKeith Jackson andHoward Cossel re-port live on hugefire ravaging anabandoned build-ing in the SouthBronx. Photo ©MLB & New YorkYankees

day regarding the previous night’s events wasunsettling.

From July 29, 1976–July 31, 1977, a se-rial killer dubbed by the media as “Son ofSam” and “The .44 Caliber Killer,” continuedto terrorize the borough. It was a time of greatanxiety everywhere in the Bronx - even in Lit-tle Italy. Neighborhood girls were cutting theirhair or tying it up – trying to avoid the long-haired look of the past victims. I can remem-ber – vividly – parents telling us to stay ingroups of three or more and not to linger onthe streets at night.

Yes, we had our tough guys back then,too. At one point, groups of ten or more men –baseball bats in hand – were circling theneighborhood looking for anything suspicious.A vague sketch of the suspect was printed onthe cover of the Daily News, giving the worlda slim glimpse of the suspect in question. (Avery, very slim glimpse - a white male with darkhair. - that’s was it) I can’t look at that phototoday without getting a bad feeling in mystomach. One night in the late summer, oneof these henchmen groups decided that theyrecognized the vaguely-drawn man in thephoto. A store owner on Crotona Avenue un-fortunately got the repercussions of what mobparanoia can bring. To this day, over 40 yearslater, I can’t pass that store – now a mechanicgarage – without remembering what they didto that poor, innocent man that night. Enoughsaid about that.

A few weeks later, on August 10th,David Berkowitz was arrested in Yonkers. Eventhough he was yet to be tried (or evencharged), the neighborhood and the City wereat peace – since there was very little questionof his guilt. According to The New York Times,Berkowitz said at his arrest, "Well, you've gotme.” The Son of Sam killing spree was finallyover.

Things got worse before they got bet-ter. After years of prescription drug abuse se-verely compromising his health, Elvis Presleydied suddenly on August 16th at his Gracelandestate at the age of 42.

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Mangia Magazine 11

Under normal circumstances, the death of acelebrity would not effect you that much. Why wouldit? You don’t know them personally, they’re just faceson the screen. But in our neighborhood, especially inthe older crowd, there was a strange affinity to ElvisPresley or Frank Sinatra. It seemed, at least to me, thatmost Little Italy households were “Sinatra families” or“Elvis families.”

August 17th, the day they announced Elvis’passing on TV, was the first time I ever saw my momcry over someone’s death who wasn’t a direct relativeor personal friend. Even though I was still a teenagerand didn’t fully understand the significance of whathad happened, I was shocked at the personalized griefpeople were having over the death of someone theydidn’t actually know. I had never seen that before, andwouldn’t see it again until John Lennon was shot threeyears later.

Another hurtful blow came in October. Whiletouring sections of the South Bronx, President Carterwas captured in a front page photo in the Daily News.The look of hopelessness on his face while standing ina sea of abandoned buildings changed America’s viewof the Bronx. Whatever negative changes that occurredhere during the sixties and seventies – were alwaysquietly kept here. As far as the rest of the world knew,we were still part of “The Great City of New York”, andwe still had our Yankees. But now, for the first time, therest of the world saw that the economic and emotionalstate of the borough was not good. Although the Pres-ident’s visit was sincere; and the article was not writtenwith malice; that one photo cast the Bronx into a pitthat would take years to climb out of.

The Yankees, on the other hand, were in theWorld Series again. In 1976, the Yankees made the FallClassic for the first time since 1964 - but they wereswept by the Cincinnati Reds 4 games to 0.

1977 would be a different story. Reggie Jacksonwas signed in the off-season and, after a year of turmoilfilled with head-to-head confrontations with his man-ager and teammates, Jackson proved that he was in-deed ‘the straw that stirred the drink.’ Jackson led theYankees back to the World Series against the Los An-geles Dodgers and, this time, the Yanks came out ontop 4 games to 2. Reggie’s three home runs in game six(on three consecutive pitches)won him MVP honors andearned him the moniker ‘Mr. October’ that would re-

main with his for the rest of his career. After being 14 games behind in the standings,

the Yankees went on to repeat against the Dodgers in1978. They now had back-to-back championships justlike the old days. What did this mean to the youth ofthe neighborhood? Plenty. Like cockroaches after thelights go out, all the fake Yankee fans – who had liter-ally disappeared since 1964 – all came out of the wood-work. Every night was a different argument betweenthe Yankee and Met fans of the area. It’s a shame thatthere were no cell phones back then. I would love tosee an old ‘the-Mets-don’t-suck,-your mother-sucks’ ar-gument again. I’d have them all over YouTube - believeme. Eh, what are you gonna do?

The decade was coming to an end on a fairlygood note. Disco was dying. Although it had never re-ally infiltrated the neighborhood with any real signifi-cance, it was nice to know that it was finally on its wayout. I don’t doubt that they were a few disco queenssporadically distributed throughout the area, but it wasgreat to know that we were basically a rock and rollneighborhood. Thank God for small favors.

Living through the seventies as a teenager hada lot of great memories. But, then again, when you’relooking through the eyes of a child - especially in LittleItaly - what else could you remember but the skelsiegames, the softball leagues and playing basketball inthe park. Looking back in retrospective as an adult, thedecade gets a C+ at best. You have to remember thatbesides all the aforementioned maladies of the decade,the seventies started with the Manson trial and endedwith the hostage crisis in Iran. But through all thatgrief, I have to give it an overall C+ passing grade forone simple reason – Little Italy made it through. It mayhave given us a bloody nose, but it didn’t knock us out.

Eighteenth century German philosopherFriedrich Nietzsche once said “whatever doesn’t kill you,only makes you stronger.” That’s probably true. But theaddition of family-based strongholds like Peter’s MeatMarket (1970), Full Moon Pizzeria (1976) and Joes Deli(1979) didn’t hurt – it helped – a lot. If anything else,it was a signal that Belmont may have been waning,but it didn’t crumble. People were still willing to take achance on its future. The eighties were right around thecorner and no one knew what to expect. But with twohundred merchants, both old and new, it was clear thatLittle Italy wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. �

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In “The Godfather, Part 1,” Sal Tessio asks Tom to sparehis life with...A. Tom, can you get me off the hook? For old times’ sake.B. Tom, for old times’ sake, can you get me off the hook?C. For old times’ sake, Tom, can you get me off the hook?D. Can you get me off the hook, Tom? For old times’ sake.

In “A Bronx Tale,” what’s the name of the horse thatEddie Mush jinxes at Aqueduct Racetrack?A. Superman B. KryptoniteC. Metropolis D. Jor-El

The Goodfella’s crew were known for robbing an airport in Queens. The airport’s name was changed to“JFK Airport” in December 1963 after PresidentKennedy’s assasination. What was its original name?A. O’Hare Airport B. Shea AirportC. Idlewild Airport D. NYC Metropolitan Airport

Although it’s never specifically stated in “Godfather,Part II,” you can figure out Vito Corleone’s birthday because it coincides with a well-known day in Americanhistory. What is Don Vito Corleone’s birthday?A. December 7th B. July 4thC. October 31st D. November 22nd

What classic rock song is playing as Joaquin Phoenixdances down the famous Bronx staircase in the 2019movie “The Joker”?A. Dancing in the Streets by Martha & the VandellasB. Stairway to Heaven by Led ZeppelinC. The Hey Song by Gary GlitterD. Let’s Dance by David Bowie

YOU SAY THAT YOU LOVETHESE MOVIES, BUT...

Do you know them by heart?

Mangia Magazine 13

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Opinion Editorial

On the March weekend just beforeindoor dining in New York City wasbanned for the first time this year, Iate out on Friday night. I ate out onSaturday night, too. That was partlybecause I had a friend in town butmostly because I love restaurants. Ilive in restaurants. Many of us NewYorkers do — or, I should say, manyof us New Yorkers did. We can’t livein restaurants anymore, and theconsequence is that many restau-rants no longer live.

About a week ago, indoor diningwas banned anew — for how long,nobody knows. That could be thedeath knell for many of the restau-rants that are still hanging on,barely. There has been a war in ourcity, which is the greatest restaurantcity in America, pitting owners andmanagers and cooks and bar-tenders and servers and dishwash-ers against an invisible invader. Ontoo many fronts and in too manyinstances, the invader is winning.

And it’s not just the owners andmanagers and cooks and bar-tenders and servers and dishwash-ers who are losing — though theirpain, make no mistake, is mostacute. It’s all of us, and we have ab-solutely no idea how much we’velost.

I thought about this the other day,

as I looked at the latest list of casu-alties. I take in these compendiumsthe way I walk through war memo-rials, pausing at each name to ap-preciate the magnitude of all ofthem put together. But in this case,I suddenly realized, the mourninghasn’t fully begun, because so manyof the mourners are in the dark.

Away from the city or cloistered inour apartments or hesitant to visitcommunal spaces until the pan-demic ebbs, we won’t know or reg-ister that a beloved trattoria is goneuntil some safer day when we try tomake a reservation and learn thatthere’s nothing at 8 p.m. or even at5:30 p.m. because there’s nothing,period. Until we walk down thestreet where sated brunch-goersonce spilled out of our favoritebistro and see an empty, still patchof sidewalk instead.

Maybe a Chinese restaurant acrossthe way will also be shuttered,along with a ramen place aroundthe corner. Commerce-wise, wholepatches of New York City are be-coming ghost towns. We justhaven’t been out and about enoughto commune with the ghosts.

The tragedy is national of course,and it has had profound effects onthe American economy because, asMatt Goulding noted in The At-

lantic, the restaurant industry “gen-erates $900 billion a year and em-ploys 15 million people.” He meantin normal times. That’s what it didgenerate; that’s what it did employ.Not now.

The headline on the article referredto the pandemic as “an extinctionevent for America’s restaurants,”and that was in June, when summerwas upon us and the worst wassupposedly behind us. It turned outthat the worst was yet to come andthe extinction metaphor wouldhave to be refined. In New Yorkmagazine this month, Carl Swan-son compared the continuing dis-appearance of restaurants and othersmall businesses to when “that as-teroid hit the Yucatán 66 millionyears back, chilling the atmospherejust enough to set in motion a cas-cade of effects that wiped out anentire dense ecosystem.”

He was focused on New York City,where the damage has been espe-cially severe. A few months ago, theNew York State comptroller esti-mated that as many as half of theroughly 24,000 restaurants that op-erated in the city at the start of 2020would be out of business soon into2021. “New York is the perfectstorm,” the chef and restaurateurCamilla Marcus told me: It has awinter that inhibits outdoor dining,

14 Mangia Magazine

The Greatest Restaurant Cityin America is Hurting MoreThan You Know The coronavirus has come for the trattoria you love.

FRANKBRUNI

New York TimesColumnist

Opinion Editoriallimited space for that in the firstplace, punishing rents that strainrestaurants’ budgets and interiorsthat need to be packed tight withcustomers for the numbers to work.

Marcus had to close her nearlythree-year-old restaurant, West-bourne, in downtown Manhattan inSeptember and is a founder ofROAR (Relief Opportunities for AllRestaurants), which lobbies andraises relief funds for unemployedrestaurant workers. In contrast toairlines, the restaurant industry hasreceived no targeted federal bailout— even though it has traditionally,by some estimates, employed morethan 10 times as many people. “I’mnot an economist,” Marcus said,“but how that doesn’t deserve anindustry-specific relief package isbeyond me.” Me, too. The Housepassed such legislation two and ahalf months ago, but the Senatedidn’t follow suit.

I worry that many Americansdowngrade the fates of restaurants,regarding them as conveniencesand indulgences — shouldn’t we allbe cooking more, anyway? — in-stead of the job creators and eco-nomic forces that they are.

“People don’t understand howlarge a ripple effect on the economyone 30-seat restaurant can have,”said Gabriel Stulman, who has hadto close two of his nine Manhattanrestaurants. What dies along with arestaurant is money that went to alandlord, to food producers, to fooddeliverers, to linen suppliers, to ap-pliance repair workers. “For mostpeople in our industry, 90 cents ofevery dollar that we make goes

back into the economy in one formor another,” Stulman told me.

That’s the financial arithmetic.What about the social and emo-tional math? Restaurants often an-chor the neighborhoods that they’rein and attract additional businesses.They’re engines of urban renewal.They’re cultural ambassadors, intro-ducing the spirit and traditions of agiven country or ethnic group tocustomers whose souls as well astheir bellies grow bigger for it.

I’m no impartial judge. I spent morethan five years, from 2004 to 2009,as The Times’s restaurant critic, so Iknow many of the creative, hard-working, humble people whose ex-istences have been upended. Theyhave responded more with graceand determination than with self-pity or rage, quickly and cleverlyadapting their operations as bestthey can. Some restaurants now sellgroceries. Some used shrubs andtrellises to fashion veritable Edenson the sidewalk.

But no amount of ingenuity couldsave other restaurants. UncleBoons, one of my favorite Thaispots, didn’t make it. I’ll miss itscrab fried rice, but more than thatI’ll miss introducing it to friendsand relatives and gazing at theircontented expressions as we nour-ished ourselves in so many ways atonce.

Momofuku’s Ssam Bar is gone. Ihad two different, terrible datesthere and remember thinking thatso long as the chef David Chang’sfood was in the mix and all thosepork-struck sybarites were eating

and drinking around me, any ro-mantic torture was survivable.

Restaurants symbolize not just highpoints and low points but alsowhole chapters of our lives, wholefacets of our identities. They’re partof the topography of our journeys— the part with criminally goodtacos and a lethal margarita.

Many decades after the fact, my sib-lings and I still reminisce aboutRemington’s, a restaurant in South-ern California where we often cele-brated Christmas Eve in the yearsjust before our mother died. “Re-member the size of those steaks?”one of us will say, but we’re nottalking about beef. We’re talkingabout grief — or, rather, about thejoy and innocence that preceded it.

Remington’s closed long ago, be-cause that happens to restaurants.They fall out of favor. They fall onhard times.

But they don’t fall with this sudden-ness — bustling one day, barricadedthe next. They don’t fall in thesenumbers. It’s as if pages of a cher-ished scrapbook are being rippedout and thrown away, one after an-other after another. We’re losing thepast along with the present and thefuture. We’re losing the very refugeswe might have gone to for solace. �

I invite you to sign up for my free weeklyemail newsletter. You can follow me on

Twitter (@FrankBruni).Frank Bruni has been with The Times since1995 and held a variety of jobs — includingWhite House reporter, Rome bureau chiefand chief restaurant critic — before becom-ing a columnist in 2011. He is the author of

three best-selling books.

Mangia Magazine 15

In the mid-1930s,Fordham University’s contri-bution to the iconic architec-ture of Belmont took shape.Named after Joseph Keating,S.J., the university treasurerfrom 1910 to 1948, KeatingHall was erected in Colle-giate Gothic style. The build-ing’s ornate tower was afeature insisted upon by Fa-ther Hogan, the university'spresident. The building'soriginal intention, when con-structed, was to be the homefor the Graduate School ofArts and Sciences, which itstill serves today. Upon itscompletion, the university hosted its first commencement ceremony on Edwards Parade, the grassy fieldin front of Keating Hall, on June 10, 1936. The university's commencement ceremonies have taken placeon the front steps of Keating ever since.

By the end of 1941, there had been a war raging around the world for over two years. The UnitedStates had fortunately been able to stay clear of direct conflict and life went on as usual. That all changedon December 7, 1941. In a sneak attack, Japanese pilots bombed the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor –located in Honolulu, Hawaii. With over 2400 deaths registered, the United Stated declared war on Japanon December 8, 1941. Three days later, on December 11th, war was declared on Germany.

In an instant, the United States was part of the largest global conflict in human history. Although weknow now that the Pearl Harbor attacks were the closest WWII ever came to American soil, if you werearound then – you couldn’t be sure. Fordham University’s Keating Hall was designated by the city of NewYork as an air raid shelter, and its tower was used as the official lookout post for the northeast Bronx. �

A Moment in...

Belmont HistoryDECEMBER, 1941

Keating Hall of Fordham University. 1936Commencement ceremonies are celebrated for the first time in front of Keating Hall overlooking grassy field known as Edward’s Parade. Graduation ceremonies are celebrated here to this day. Photo © Fordham Archives.

KEATING HALL DESIGNATED BRONXLOOKOUT POST AFTER PEARL HARBOR

16 Mangia Magazine

INGREDIENTS:2 large potatoes, preferably Idaho potatoes,(about 1 3/4 pounds)

Salt to taste 2 egg yolks 1 3/4 to 2 cups flour6 tablespoons melted butter, optionalGrated Parmesan cheese optional2 cups filetti de pomodoro sauceFresh ground black pepperDIRECTIONS:• Place the potatoes in a kettle and add coldwater to cover. Add salt to taste and bring to a boil.Simmer until the potatoes are tender, but notmushy. Drain and let cool.• Peel the potatoes. Put them through a ricer, orfood mill. Or put them through a meat grinder usingthe median blade. Add egg yolks and blend well. • Scoop the flour onto a flat surface. Start knead-ing the potatoes, adding the flour gradually. Addonly enough flour to make a firm, soft and delicate

dough. If too much flour is added, they becometough when cooked. Knead thoroughly, then shapethe dough, rolling with the palms to make a thicksausage shape about 11 or 12 inches long. • Using a knife or a pastry scraper, cut the roll into11 equals slices. Roll each slice into a long cigarshape.• Cut each cigar into 18 or 19 pieces. Thesepieces will resemble miniature pillows. Flourpieces and set aside until ready to cook. Drop thepieces of dough, half of them at a time, into a largequantity of boiling salted water and let it cook untilthey rise to the surface. Drain quickly and chillunder cold running water. Drain well.• When ready to serve, drop the pieces oncemore into a large quantity of boiling salted water.When they float the second time, drain them andreturn them to the pot. • Add the melted butter, and cheese, if desired.Add the sauce and sprinkle with pepper. • Serve with additional sauce on the side.

Gnocchi di Potate from Mario’s Restaurant

Mangia Magazine 17

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19 Mangia MagazineMangia Magazine 19

A few years ago, I needed to make a calen-dar delivery to The Bronx Zoo. The delivery entrancehad been moved to Southern Boulevard at 185thStreet. That used to be the old main entrance (or atleast one of them - there have been many over theyears). So I came down Southern Boulevard fromFordham Road and made an illegal u-turn (shh), andparked right in front of the delivery gate - and there itwas. I was looking right at it - 787 East 185th Street -the building I was born in. It’s amazing what goesthrough your mind when anold memory pops in. I staredat the johnny pump, which isobviously still there, and sawme blasting friends with water,using a can with the top andbottom scraped off. Then, as I sat there, Istarted to think about a typicalday in 1974 Little Italy. The first thing that usually hap-pened was a skelsie game started. That was a gamethat you could play with only two people if no one elsewas around. And even if the rain destroyed last week’sboard, a five cent piece of chalk and a black-tarredstreet was all you needed to start it up again. Skelsie was a real low-key, non-violent game thatwas usually only played to kill time until everyonecame out. The only real issue my mom had was it wasplayed in the street - adults in passing cars were not inlove with this game But, I’m sure they understood, hav-ing played themselves as kids, so there was no reasonto worry about a simple game of skelsie in the street -or so you would think. I can honestly say that in all myyears as a kid playing this game, I don’t think a gamewas ever finished. Something always happened. Letme explain... Skelsie is a poor inner-city game played with bottlecaps - the pop-off type from the seventies, not thetwist-off type off today. You simply flicked your fingerfrom your thumb at the cap laying on the street, andmoved it a few feet at a time towards boxes that werechalked on the ground that were numbered 1 through13. After you got your cap in the “one” box, you turned

and aimed at the “two” box and so forth. The first per-son to finish the entire board wins. Sounds simpleenough. Only it’s not that simple. There’s a defensivemove in skelsie called “blastees”. All this means, basi-cally, is if another cap is anywhere near you on theboard when it’s your turn, you can “blast” them as hardas you can, knocking them completely off the board,and sometimes, if you were lucky, under a parked car.Now, it would take several moves of your opponent tojust get back to where he was before. Completely legal,completely moral, and well within the confines of thegame. You get the occasional cry baby who screams,

“what are you blasting me for,I didn’t blast you before.” Butwhat goes around, comesaround - you end up gettingblasted yourself two numberslater by your best friend whoate at your house last night,-“c'est la vie”, that’s life. It didn’tget really nasty until the newskelsie caps came into it. At

some point in skelsie evolution, someone decided toupgrade their playing piece to get an edge on everyoneelse. Instead of using the metal bottle cap, they de-cided to pop the glass top off the actual bottle. You didthis by gently gliding the empty bottle over a sewercap, until the glass ring at the top popped off. You thentook the choppy glass ring, turned it upside down andscraped it back and forth on the sidewalk. This evenedthe top choppy part of the ring and made a beautiful,cool, slick skelsie machine. Because there was nofolded metal like the pop off top, it went straighter, andbecause it was so light, it went further. Now theseskelsie prima donnas had an unfair edge. And just likea computer hacker gets to work to crack the latest soft-ware, or a counterfeiter immediately begins to dupli-cate the latest government currency - we skelsie thugsbegan a counter attack, I mean, what else were our op-tions. We started melting crayons in our metal bottlecaps. This made them real heavy. They were likeskelsie tanks. Now, when you blasted these guys, youdidn’t knock them under a car, you shattered them intoa million pieces. That’s it, case closed. You’re out of thegame, you don’t have a piece. “What are you blasting

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me for, I called ‘no blastees’ when we started.” “You didn’t call no blastees. Besides, it’s part of thegame.” “You’re an idiot.”(now get ready folks, ‘cause here itcomes) “You’re mother’s an idiot.” “What the hell are you snappin’ onmy mother for?”(Snapping, back in the seventies, simplymeant “insulting”. Your mother’s an idiot,your father’s a moron, your sister’s ugly, things likethat...) “I’m calling your mother an idiot because you’rean idiot, so she must be an idiot, too.” That’s when all hell broke loose. He gets you in aWWF headlock. (everyone thought they were BrunoSamartino in the seventies). You try to grab his legs andwrestle him to the floor. The two of you are now on thefloor, trying to pin the other down. It’s funny, nopunches are thrown. A nine year old kid figures who-ever pins the other down is right. Anyway, the otherfriends get frustrated and start to complain, “c’mon,were playing, what are you guys doing.” Eventually,they get frustrated enough and give up. “I quit, I’mgoing up to Dodge to play Philadelphia, you guys are

jerks.” I guess with no audience around to share in thepinning of your friend, you both decide to ease up andeventually give in and start to catch up with your

friends going to play Philadelphia. Before youstart running to catch up to them, you throwin a last “jerk” and he throws in a final“moron”, and off you go. Hence, the 493rdconsecutive skelsie game ends without anactual winner.

We walk up the block, stop at Calavope’sfor a lemon ice or orzarta, then continue to

Dodge for our Philadelphia game. Someone always hasa spaldeen in his pocket, and if you didn’t have yourstickball bat handy, a mop or broomstick would do. Ifthere were guys there already playing, we could justcall “next”. If there weren’t, Nat’s Toy Store was rightdown the block for the stickball bat and spaldeen. Now, I want to know the genius who thought upPhiladelphia. This had to be a real lonely guy, withnothing to do. Don’t get me wrong, it was a lot of fun,but looking back as an adult, I’m just curious what ma-niac would have thought this game up. Philadelphia was basically stickball played “againsta wall”. There was a big strike zone painted or chalkedon a wall. The batter and pitcher both faced the wallabout fifteen or twenty feet away. (The pitcher is actu-ally behind the batter) The pitcher throws the ball atthe wall. If he misses the strike zone - it’s a walk. If hehits the strike zone, the batter has to swing. If the bat-ter misses, it’s a strike out. If he hits it and it doesn’thit the wall, it’s a ground out. If he hits the wall, and aplayer catches it, it’s a flyout........But....... If it hits thewall and touches ground before the pitcher’s line, it’s asingle; after the pitcher’s line is a double, if it hits thefence (in Dodge parking lot) it’s a triple, if it goes overthe fence, it’s a home run. So, basically, it was a one-pitch at-bat. Since therewere no base runners, you had to keep track of whowas on base. If there is a guy on second, and someonesingles, it’s now first and third, and so on. This was an-other great game because you could play one on oneor seven on seven, it didn’t matter. There were alsotimes we had six on five games - what was the differ-ence. It just changed the number of fielders. With

Prospect Avenue brothers Sal & Ronnie Barca of Catania’s Pizzeria on Arthur Avenue. Photo (c) Arthur Avenue Shopper

Mangia Magazine 21

Dodge’s windows all over thewall, most balls ricocheted inall different directions any-way. So, it was usually a29-28 score by the fourthinning. But late in thegame, it always got serious.

You want to win, so a teamusually called NBO, (that meant new batting order).Which usually meant the scrubs were coming up tobat, and they wanted their main guys to come tobat. This didn’t do much for the spirit or morale ofthe other kids, but hey, like I said, we were 9 yearsold. Then someone would yell out, “bottom of thesixth, 24-21.” “We don’t have 24, we scored four runs lastinning, we have 25.” “Don’t cheat, you guys have twenty four.” “You called 21-up last inning, if we scored 4runs, how could we have 24? Twenty-one plusfour is 25. Can’t you add? What are you amoron?”(Uh-oh, here it comes again) “No, I’m not a moron, your mother’s amoron.” “What? You’re calling my mother amoron?” Now, two completely different guys arefighting in Dodge field, using WWF-sanc-tioned three second pin-count rules. You wantto keep playing the game, but you can’t inter-fere. I mean, there are Arthur Avenue rulesthat apply here. Eventually, someone yells out(again) “you guys suck, I’m going to the park.”And little by little, the group disbands andmakes its way to Arthur Park. I can only as-sume the two disengage unscathed, again, dueto the lack of audience, because they botheventually end up at the park with us, likenothing happened. Now the park - that was a microcosm allto itself. Babies with their mothers, nine andten year olds, even guys in their twenties and

older joined together there. All one park,but many things happening individuallywithin its own age group. The main thingsthere were either handball or basketball.Three on three basketball in the park had anickname. It was called “no lay-ups.” Simplyput, taking a shot from the outside was fine,you got a swinging hand to the face everyonce in a while, but no big deal. Doctor J-type layups, on the other hand, didn’t go overso well. If you wanted to make a move for thehoop from the outside, you better beware.The other three guys usually descended onyou with a fury, and either you ended up com-pletely knocked out of the court, or on your assin a drunken stupor. To this day, I still think Iwas hit a few times by my own guy. Hey, noprima donnas allowed on Arthur Avenue.

Eventually, a frustrated player would call“hack” and the other guy will say...“I didn’t hack you, it was only a bump.”“No, it wasn’t a bump, you hacked me.”“Oh, grow up, you’re such a baby.”(Here we go again)”Your mother’s a baby.”“What are you talking about my mother for?” Then he grabs him in a head-lock and yadda,yadda, yadda...you know how this ends.So what’s the moral of this story? Well, there’s

probably a couple. One definitely is that you don’thave to have a lot of money to be rich. I wouldn’ttrade my childhood here in Belmont with anyone.And, although I’m over 50 and can’t finish sen-tences or remember the meanings of the simplestwords, I have such a vivid memory of all the thingsI did as a child. Thinking back to family and friendsjust puts a smirk on my face. Whether it’s seeingmy old childhood building or a yoo-hoo bottle cap,it doesn’t matter. Another moral could simply be... hey, don’t snapon your friend’s mother. �

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m

With my partner in travel crime, Tanya, intown this week, we had scheduled a Catholic ChurchTour in the Bronx with Bronx Historical Tours' Direc-tor, Alexandra Maruri thispast Wednesday.

After a quickie break-fast at my house, we twoTravelin’ Cousins headed outinto the rain for a 15 miledrive to the Belmont sectionof the Bronx, aka Little Italy.

Our timing couldhave not been more perfect!In spite of intermittent downpours and the floodingof the Bronx River Parkway (which we avoided!), wearrived on 187th Street and Hugh's Avenue at9:50am, ten minutes early for our rendez-vous withAlexandra.

It's no secret how much Tanya and I adore therain and wet weather has never stood in the way ofus travel girls touring.

Today was no exception. With our slickersand umbrellas in tow, we made our way throughtouring two Catholic Churches located in the Bronx.What a delightful day we had!!

Our first visit was Our Lady of Mount CarmelChurch on 187th Street and Belmont Avenue. A bitof history about this magnificent church…

The late 1800's and early 1900's saw the ar-rival of large numbers of immigrants from Italy. Ar-riving via lower Manhattan, many Italians settleddowntown, however, a large number of these madetheir way north to the Bronx, establishing large Italiancommunities.

At this time, there existed one Catholic

Church located in the Northwest Section of theBronx on the Grand Concourse and 202nd Street, St.Philip Neri Church, with an Italian-speaking priestto which the newly arriving immigrants of Belmontwould travel for Sunday Mass, sacraments and funer-als. However, it was a long and difficult trip.

Realizing that a bur-geoning Italian neighbor-hood was evolving, a missionwas opened in a store front at659 E. 187 Street to serve thefaithful of Belmont, and thefirst Mass was celebrated onJune 13, 1906.

From the store front, abasement Church was built on 187th Street and Bel-mont Avenue in 1907, and then, ten years later, in1917, the upper Church was built and dedicated toOur Lady of Mount Carmel.

This history explains the two dates, promi-nently featuredon the church.

O u rLady of MountCarmel wouldbecome thelargest ItalianNational Parishin the Archdio-cese of NewYork. At theheight of its his-tory in the 40'sand 50's, morethan 40,000Italians madeOur Lady of

TRAVELIN’ COUSINS TOURBELOVED BRONX CHURCH -OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

Article reprinted, with permission, from “This Is The Bronx” blog site. April 2019

Mangia Magazine 25

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26 Mangia Magazine

Mount Carmel their parish.The inside of the church is just lovely, with its beau-tiful stained glass windows throughout, painted fres-coes on the ceiling, and stately marble columns.

Thanks to the commitment and tireless effortsof Our Lady of Mount Carmel's Pastor, FatherJonathan Morris, who, since his arrival in February of2015, has brought a vibrancy and renewed energy tothe church, now in its second century.

Under his direction, the church has under-gone much restoration, breathing new life into thebeloved church, as well as making necessary modifi-cations to keep up with the neighborhood's changingdemographics and serving a whole new wave oflatino immigrants arriving from Central and SouthAmerica.

Combining reverence for the old with the im-plementation of the new, Fr. Jonathan’s undertakingincluded replacing worn out floors, painstakingly

matching original Italian marble used to repairchurch columns, refurbishing ceiling frescos, relocat-ing existing statues of saints within the church andadding much-needed exterior lighting.

Simultaneously, under the new pastor's lead-ership, new statues of saints, held in high esteem bythe new neighborhood immigrants from Mexico andLatin America were added, new paint colors wereused to brighten certain interior spaces, such as thebaptism area, and a new church organ was pur-chased.

The church also uses new candles that do notemit soot, in order to better preserve the ceiling fres-cos.

Additionally, Spanish language masses wereadded to the existing English and Italian ones formore inclusiveness to the members of the commu-nity. �

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