Tony Talks Italian American Social Clubs



Mare Chiare


Mulberry Street

Tucked between a partly vacant Roman Catholic church and a Vietnamese herbal store, the Beard Cafe, on Elizabeth Street, near Broome, could be mistaken for another downtown bar, priced out of SoHo or the East Village. At night, young urbanites and European tourists mingle to enjoy techno music and imported beer. Leftist literature competes for attention with a video art installation.

But during the day, the place mellows to resemble a European coffee shop with fresh muffins and stale cigarettes. When four elderly Italian men arrive, they create a bit of old Little Italy: the private social club, in the midst of a now-fashionable neighborhood. The men go to the rear of the club and descend into a hideout in the basement, where they spend several hours.

”It is the last traditional social club,” said Lillian Tozzi, a founder of the Little Italy Neighbors Association, whose family has lived on Mulberry Street for over a century.

The members of the club declined to be interviewed, but visitors say the basement is sparsely furnished with little more than a television set, a refrigerator and fading photographs of neighborhood friends. Not much happens, they add, besides watching television, playing a friendly game of hearts and chatting. Fans of ”The Sopranos” would be disappointed.

”You go to hang out with the boys,” said Tony Tenneriello, 80, the bartender at Mare Chiaro, an oak-paneled bar on Mulberry Street that evokes the area’s bygone charm. ”The bars were different back then. You could play a game of cards for a bottle of wine.” 




Tony Tenneriello & Family














I first started going to Tony’s somewhere around 1984. Being myself (Danny) I always love the offbeat kind of place, whether we’re talking about restaurants, stores, Barber Shops, or in this cas bars.  Don’t want anything shiney and knew, and most likely quite contrived. Give me a cool old well worn place like McSorley’s Ale House on East 7th Street (Since 1854) John’s of 12th Street, a few blocks from McSorley’s, Pete’s Tavern (Gramercy Park), or the good old Italian Bar, Mare Chiare on Mulberry Street in New York’s so-called Little Italy. Well, Mare Chiare (aka Tony’s Nut House) no longer exist. Not as that cool old Italian Bar, run by the unflappable Tony Tennerielo himself. Tony was just “Too Cool.” And he wasn’t even trying to be, he was just being Tony.

His Bar was absolutely awesome. It was low key, and had a cool old ambiance. It’s original 1908 deccor was kept pretty much intact. Tony’s was usually pretty quiet and you could go in there and get a drink, sit down at the bar or a table, throw a few quarters in the Juke Box, and play some “Dino,” Tony Bennett, and of course songs by Mr. Frank Sinatra. Sit down and relax, listening to great Italian-American music as you sipped your drink and chit-chatted with your friends. I here the place used to be busier back in the day, when the Old Police Head Quarters was still open, prior to 1973 when it was shut down and moved to it new facilities near City Hall. Before that, Mare Chiaro had a bit of a livelier crowd filled with lots of Policemen and Detectives of NYPD before the closing of Police HQs on Broome and Layfayette Streets nearby. The time-span when I went from 1984 until Tony Tenneriello sold his family’s old Italian Bar in 2003. Yes, most  of the times I went to Tony’s wan’t crowded, usually, less than 12 people in the place. Regulars like me, simply called it Tony’s.

Besides going there any old time, especially on Sunday afternoons to watch a Giant’s or Yankees game, my favorite thing to do was to get an awesome Italian Sub Sandwich (to Go) at Parsisi’s Sanwich Shop, bring it to Tony’s, get a glass of Wine, put on some Sinatra and eat our tasty Sandwiches .

Yes, I had a lot of great times at Tony’s, but the best of all, was being at Tony’s one time when it was Tony’s Birthday. His family brought a Birthday Cake, we all sang “Happy Birthday Dear Tony,” Tony blew out the candles and we all had a piecce of cake, as one of his friends sang a couple Opera Songs. “Now what’s better than that I ask you?” Getting to sing Happy Birthdday to Mr. Anthony Tenneriello and sharing the good times and Tony’s Birthday Cake with the man himself.


Daniel Bellino Zwicke

I have a few old pictures I took at Tony’s back in the day. One day I’ll dig them up and post them here, for you can never get enough of Tony, or his awesome old bar, Mare Chiaro, aka Tony’s Nut House.


Basta !




Arrivederci , Tony

“Already, the regulars are suspicious.”


Mare Chiaro’s was a Little Italy watering hole with oak-paneled walls, sawdust on the floor and the Old World atmosphere of an Italian social club. In the 1990’s, both the Paris Review crowd and the dot-com Wunderkinds embraced the bar as their own, despite the bright overhead lights and lack of fruit-flavored martinis. More recently, Nolita hipsters have held court-all under the watchful eye of Tony Tenneriello, who sold the bar last month. Until then, Mr. Tenneriello, 81, could be seen there every night, cigar in his mouth, working past 1 a.m., shuffling from table to table to clear glasses and staring defiantly at anyone who lingered too long or got too rowdy. Locals just called the place “Tony’s.”

Mr. Tenneriello said he sold the bar because of his age and the long hours the job required. “It looked like I was going to die in that bar,” he said. “But I sold it.”

The new owners haven’t decided yet whether to take down the black-and-white photographs of Tony posing with Frank Sinatra, Ronald Reagan, Madonna and others. “We have to retain the spirit of the bar,” said co-owner Eddy Welsh, 67, “but we also have to attract a new crowd. How much of a change do you make? Where do you draw the line?”

Indeed, Mr. Welsh and co-owner Richard Cestaro, 40, both local businessmen whose families grew up on Mulberry Street, have the unenviable task of “running Tony’s without Tony.” Their influence is already evident. In order to restore the exterior to what it looked like when the bar first opened in 1908, they’ve added copper outlay to the bar’s wooden doors and repainted the window frames, restoring them to their original white. Inside the bar, top-shelf liquor has been added, as has tap beer. The $3 Coronas now cost $5, and on the jukebox a buck buys two songs instead of three. The sawdust is gone. Soon the bar will serve lunch and late-night snacks: chicken wings, peel-your-own shrimp, eggs and peppers. Also under consideration is live Dixieland or country music. “Please God, NO !!!”

The bar had been in Mr. Tenneriello’s family since the turn of the century, when his father, Christopher Tenneriello, opened a small bar called C. Tenneriello’s at 1761¼2 Mulberry. Tony’s father worked the bar and Tony’s mother cooked Chicken Parmigiana and Spaghetti & Meatballs for a crowd of local Italians. After school, Tony would go to the bar and do his homework.

The police were the bar’s biggest crowd, coming in for lunch from their nearby headquarters on Centre Street. Members of the neighborhood’s crime families stayed away, according to Mr. Tenneriello.

“I’m not saying that no one ever came in,” he said. “But let me just say, thank God for the police.”

The police headquarters moved away in 1973, as did many of the neighborhood Italians, replaced by Chinese immigrants. By the late 80’s, the bulk of Mare Chiaro’s business were tourists who came to the city to visit the rash of new restaurants on Mulberry Street. Padding out the crowd was a mix of Artists and Writers . In the mid-1990’s, editors from the Paris Review met there every Friday night. The dot-commers would come by after long hours at their Broadway offices.

Nowadays, the crowd is thinner. A recent Thursday night found the bar sparsely populated with a mix of tourists, hipsters (White Stripes look-alikes) and stockbrokers. Sinatra’s “Summer Wind” played on the jukebox; an eager, short-haired female bartender was offering shots.

One of the stockbrokers, Mike, in his mid-30’s, had been coming to Mare Chiaro for the last six years.

“It was better when Tony ran the place,” he said, lowering his voice and looking around the bar. “The new owners want to get the yuppies in here. You can tell by the little things they’re doing-raising the prices of the drinks, the jukebox.”

Asked about this, Mr. Cestaro looked pained and said, “You can’t run a business selling $3 drinks.” He added that the bar’s prices are now on par with the other neighborhood bars.

If Mr. Cestaro and Mr. Welsh don’t have the full support of some of the regulars, they seem to have earned the respect of locally owned Italian businesses.

“To be honest, the bar needed an update,” shrugged one Mulberry Street restaurant owner. “The new owners are good guys. They realize they’re dealing with an institution; they’re not going to change it too much. Tony knew what he was doing when he sold it to them.”

Mr. Tenneriello said he has no interest in what the new owners may or may not change.

“What people want, and what people don’t want, it doesn’t matter,” he said, laughing hoarsely. “Things are going to change. It’s called progress, honey.”

READ about TONY in Italian-American New York Writer Daniel Bellino-Zwicke ‘s book       La TAVOLA – ITALIAN-AMERICAN NEW YORKERS ADVENTURES of The TABLE La Tavola


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OBITUARY :  March 4, 2008 … Antonino Tony Tenneriello

Anthony James Tenneriello, of Old Forge died Sunday evening, surrounded by his family in Moses Taylor Hospital, Scranton. 

Born on Mulberry Street, New York City, he was the son of the late Anthony and Nancy Semenza Tenneriello. He lived in Old Forge his entire life. 

He was a graduate of Old Forge High School. Tony had been employed by the Delaware Lackawanna Railroad. He was also employed by Valley Auto Parts, Old Forge. He was a World War II Army veteran, having served from 1942 to 1946. He was a member of the 10th Mountain Division and trained as an ammunition bearer on skis. He served in the Pacific Theater as a member of the 51st Military Police Battalion on Okinawa and in Korea. Upon discharge, he received many medals and citations and a letter from President Truman. He was an avid Red Sox fan. He was a life member of St. Mary of the Assumption Church, Old Forge. 

Tony was devoted to his family. He was a selfless, kind, generous and thoughtful person. He was always ready to help anyone in need. He had a serious — but always joking — personality. He was wonderful with all of the young children in the family. He will be greatly missed by all who knew him. 

He is survived by a sister-in-law, Irene Tenneriello, Wilkes-Barre; two nieces, Joanne and Nancy Tenneriello, Wilkes-Barre; and many cousins who loved him dearly. 

He was preceded in death by a brother, Lawrence; and a sister, Divina Comessa. 

The funeral will be held Wednesday at 9 a.m. from the Louis V. Ciuccio Funeral Home, 145 Moosic Road, Old Forge, followed by a 9:30 a.m. Mass in St. Mary of the Assumption Church, West Grace and Lawrence streets, Old Forge. Interment will be in Cathedral Cemetery, Scranton. Friends may call 5:00 – 8:00 PM 


Giambone’s and John Gotti ‘s Favorite ITALIAN-AMERICAN FOOD


And Two Asscoiates Leaves GIAMBONE’S
After a Classic Italian-American Restaurant Meal
of Baked Clams, Pasta, Sausage & Veal & Peppers

ALTHOUGH legal arguments have long echoed down the austere halls of the Criminal Court building on Centre Street, many spirited lawyerly discussions also occurred a few blocks east, in a dim, shoebox-sized Italian restaurant named Giambone. Now, as workers at Centre Street and other nearby courthouses dig into their fall workload, they are discovering that this neighborhood fixture is gone.
Located on a narrow stretch of Mulberry Street two blocks south of Canal, Giambone, a virtual clubhouse for lawyers, judges, cops and defendants with a history as rich as its clam sauce, closed its doors in June. It was a victim of 9/11 and the sluggish economy, which all but eliminated the evening dinner crowd.
Originally housed in a marble-floored basement, which served it well during Prohibition, the restaurant was opened in 1914 by a strapping fellow named Italo Susi, who went by the nickname Giambone. In 1935, after the upstairs tenant, a Western Union office, left, Italo moved his eatery aboveground and, along with his son Tony, built the place into a bustling, neighborhood joint.
Within a stone’s throw of various courthouses, Giambone was a natural choice for people who worked at the courthouse or merely visited it from time to time, like the mobster John Gotti. Tony Susi, now 82, still remembers his introduction to the once-Teflon don.
”The goons came over and said, ‘Would you accept John Gotti?’ I said, ‘Of course.’ Then they said, ‘Would you wait on him personally?’ So I waited on him. We got along pretty well, too. I spoke to him in Italian.” Mr. Gotti ordered the calamari and left a $125 tip.

Continue reading the main story

Over the years, other celebrities passed through, including the comedian Pat Cooper, who wanted to kiss Mr. Susi upon tasting his Linguine alla Sinatra , a house specialty, and John F. Kennedy Jr., who nursed his wounds at Giambone after failing the bar exam for the second time.
But the true lure of Giambone remained its homey ambiance. The décor — rickety tables, taxidermied fish on the wall — was as unfashionable as your grandfather’s basement, and nearly as dusty. The menu was varied but never fancy. And Mr. Susi, by all accounts a gracious host, presided over a cast of regulars that included a fellow named Louie Beans, a struggling lounge singer named Detie Baxter, and Louis Martine, a big, garrulous prankster.
Asked about the many stunts he pulled at Giambone, Mr. Martine, a retired lawyer, fondly recalled the sweltering day he sent two colleagues on a goose chase in search of a Chinese tailor rumored to sell cheap suits. ”By the time the guys got back, they were walking swimming pools,” he said with a laugh. ”They were mad as hell.”
There is another reason to mourn Giambone. Except for a half-Italian, half-Chinese place next door, it was the last Italian restaurant on Mulberry Street below Canal.
Next month the space will reopen as a Chinese furniture store, furthering the Asian dominance of an area that, according to Mr. Susi, once housed seven Italian restaurants.
Mr. Susi retired in 1990, selling the restaurant to a man named Joseph Elias. Bob Jenny, a spokesman for New York City Management, the owner of the building, said that Mr. Elias informed the company last spring that he was closing the struggling business. Mr. Elias could not be reached for comment.
For its many former customers, the bottom line is that the restaurant will be missed. ”It’s left a hole in the neighborhood,”’ said Robert M. Morgenthau, the Manhattan district attorney and a longtime regular. ”Now, we go to Odeon or Forlini’s.”


Prosciuttoless in Nebraska




It’s a well known fact that thousands of Italian-American New Yorkers have been displaced over the years. Philadelphians, Bostonian Italians, and others too. Former Italian-American New Yorkers who have been in serious distress and mental anguish over the lack of good Italian restaurants and availability of quality Italian food products in the rest of the country, excluding of course cities like Boston, Philly, and San Francisco. Other than these, you’re going to have a very hard time trying to find a good Italian Restaurant, Pizza, and Italian food products.

It’s a “Sad Hard Fact-of-Life” that many cities and towns in the U.S. are completely “devoid” of good Italian Restaurants, Pork Stores, good Pizzerias, a properly pulled Espresso, or specialty shops where people of Italian origins, who are in need of good fresh Italian Sausages, Bread, Prosciutto,

Salami, Parmigiano Reggiano, olive oil, fresh Mozz-arella, Cannoli, and other products required to make proper Italian meals. These are simple necessities required to live a happy productive life, being able to purchase good quality Italian food products, or go out to eat at a true Italian Restaurant, or Pizzeria. 
    “Yes, believe it or not,” there are many places in this great nation of ours where the local citizenry are denied some of life’s greatest treats. It may be alright for the local natives who were born in these deprived areas, but as for Italian-Americans who move to one, for whatever reasons, the deprivation caused by the lack of good honest Italian Food is enough to cause un-necessary anguish, yearning, and outright sadness.
 Those of us who live in New York are extremely fortunate to have a plethora of the simple pleasures of outstanding Italian Restaurants, Pizzerias, Italian Pasrty Shops, Caffe’s, Pasta Shops, Pork Stores, Wine Shops, and Italian Specialty Shops that supply us with every Italian culinary treat under the Sun.
     Yes we are blessed with restaurants like Rao’s,  Gino’s, Patsy’s, Elio’s, Rocco’s,
Bar Pitti, Frankie’s Spuntino, and others that serve tasty authentically prepared Italian food, along with bakeries that bake magnificent bread, Biscotti, Cheesecake, Cannoli, 
and other pastries.

We have the best Pizzerias out-
side of Italy, like; Totonno’s, Lombardi’s, and John’s of Bleecker Street.
      In New York we have great Pork Stores that pre-pare wonderful fresh Italian Sausage, Braciole, Sopressetta, Cacatitorini, fresh Mozzarella, and more. There are countless Italian food emporiums where you can buy imported Olive Oils, vinegar, pasta, Prosciutto de Parma, Mortadella from Bologna, Gorgonzola, Fontina, Aceto Baslamico from Modena, Porcini Secco, and the sinful Tartuffo Bianco of Alba in Peidmonte (The Foot of the Mountain). The same place were the wondrous Barolo, Barbera, and Barbaresco wines come from.
When White Truffles are in season, from mid-October through early January, it
is favorite time of the year for gourmands, everywhere.
     We New Yorkers are blessed with amazing Italian Caffes, that serve authentic
pastries, Gelato, and prop -erly made Espresso and Cappuccino. We have Pork
Stores and Delis, that sell fresh Italian Pork Sausages, Imported Italian Cheese, Salami, Olive Oil, Pasta, Prosciutto, and more. And we have butchers who know how to cut a “Proper Veal Scallopine and make Braciole ready for cooking. We have restaurants and Trattorias that know how to make authentic Bolognese Sauce, Spaghetti Carbonara, and Linguine Vong-ole. Culinarily, we want for nothing!
 “My condolences to those Americans deprived of these simple little Pleasures.
Excuse me, “Necessities” to good, Happy Living!”
This piece has been EXCERPTED from La TAVOLA”  ITALIAN-AMERICAN NEW YORKERS ADVENTURES of THE TABLE … To read more Stories like “PROSCIUTTO-Less in NEBRASKA” La Tavola is available on
by Daniel Bellino Zwicke
Esposito Pork Store
“HEAVEN” !!!
Italian Salami





Pasta w / Ragu Bolognese

and The Worlds Best 


The Best Things in Life are Free … It’s a great old saying. A wonderful old song was evven written on the sbject. The song The BEST THINGS in LIFE are FREE starts out with the lines “The Moon Belongs to Everyone. The Best Things in Life are Free.” The song mentions “Flowers in Spring,” “Robins that Sing,” and “The Sunbeams that Shine.” They don’t mention Bolgonese Sauce, though they easily could, for it is without question, one the Best Things in life, and it certainly is one of “The Best Things Ever.” No doubt. And it can even be free, and if not free, and if you are making it, and paying for the ingredients to make it, it may not be free, but it’s dam near it, costing a measly .95 Cents to serve a portion of it. Bolognese the taste is so devine, almost orgasmic, “seriously, it is.” It’s that good. The taste of properly made Ragu Bolognese, dressing whatever pasta you choose; Spaghetti, Tagiatelle, Rigatoni, whatever, a proper made Ragu Bolognese is one of the most devine dishes imaginable. The great Marcell Hazan said of it, “There is no more perfect union in all Gastronomy than the marriage of Ragu Bolognese and homemade Bolognese tagliatelle.” Well I couldn’t agree more with Marcella, except that, though homemade tagliatelle is absolutely wonderful, it is not absolutely essential for the great dish of Pasta w/ Ragu Bolognese, they very most improtant element is that you have a perfectly made Ragu Bolognese, the thing that will give the dish 90% of its unmatchable sinfully luscious flavor. The Pasta and the grated Parmigiano Reggaino are great, but “it’s all about the Bolognese (Sauce).”

There are many great dishes in the World, and of many different international cuisines, but nothing quite like a well made “Ragu Bolognes,” trust me. I love a great Bouf Bourgonnone, Coq au Vin, Foe Gras, Vietnamese PHO, lush American BBQ Ribs, the perfect Hamburger, a juicy Prime New York CUt Sirloin Steak, Tandoori Chicken, a NY Pastrami Sandwich, Belgian Chocolate, perfectly Roast Chicken, I could go on and on, I love these dishes and a couple hundred more, but there is no dish that I love more than a properly made Bolognese, and no Bolognese Sauce that is better than mine, “None,” not Marcella’s, not anywhere in Bologna, Italy, nor anywhere in all of Emelia Romagna the region it comes from. I know it may sound pompous and egotistical for me to brag about my Bolgonese as I do, and I know people would call me insane, for me to think that of all the great Italian Chefs all over Italy and especially in Emeia Romagan, that I would have the nerve to think that I make “The Worlds Best Bolognese,” but it’s TRUE, “I do!” I make without a doubt, the single Best Ragu Bolognese in the entire World. Yes it may sound absurd, but absurd it’s not. Just ask the some four or five-hundred people who’ve had it, they’ll all confirm the fact that the worlds single best tasting most perfect Bolognese Sauce is made by none other than Italian-American Italian-Cookbook Author (formerChef) Daniel Bellino Zwicke of Greenwich Village, New York.

I was taught the recipe of this the Worlds Greatest Bolognese when I was a cook at the now defunct Caio Bella Restaurant, up on Thrid Avenue at 75th Street in New York back in 1987 by Chef Pasquale, sorry I can’t remember his last name. Anyway, Chef Pasquale was from Brindisi Italy, a city in the South of Italy in the region of Puglia. Pasquale started working in kitchens in Brindisi where he first honed his craft. He later went on to work in kitchens in Milan, Bologna, Parma, London, and Tokyo, Japan before moving to New York and becoming the Head Chef at the restaurant Mezzaluna, the 1st restaurant to make and serve real Italian Pizza made in a wood-burning Pizza Oven in New York and in the United States. The restaurant was a big hit, and a couple of the waiters at the restaurant, a guy named Rocco and my ex-boss Enrico Proetti wanted to go out on their own and open their own restaurant, and so they did. They got togehter with a wealthy older Italian man “Fred” who became their partner and put up all the cash to open the restuarant up the street, called Caio Bella. Caio Bella was a big success, and a quick one at that, and it was soon one of the hottest restaurant of the day, back in 1987 when I went in looking for a job. I met Pasquale, we chatted, I told him about my background and my asperations with Italian Food. Pasquale hired me, and the rest is history. I had mostly worked in French Restaurants before that, and I’d gone to New York Technical College in Brooklyn where they taught Classical French Cusisine, which is the food I wanted to cook when I first got started. Yes I first wanted to cook French. But after I made my first trip to my ancestral home of Italy in the Summer of 1985, I caught the bug, and from then on, i wanted to cook authentic Italian Food. I soaked up and learn all I could of true Italian Food, made the Italian way, and I don’t mean Italian-American, but by Italians. So I decided I needed to get a job at a great Italian Restaurant in New York that had a great Italian Chef from Italy. I went to Sandro’s and Arqua first, and they both offered me jobs, but when I went up to Caio Bella and Chef Pasquale hired me as a line-cook, I decided to take the job at Caio Bella.

Pasquale was a great teacher, and he showed me personally how to make all the dishes on the menu, including his great recipe for Ragu Bolognese. I made it just the way Pasquale showed me how to make it, and from then on, I was the person at Caio Bella who always made the Ragu Bolognese. Pasquale liked the way I made it, exactly the way he showed me, and that was that. And I’ve always made my Bolognese just like that. No matter what others may tell you, every Bolognese is at least a little different from all others, and so was Pasquale’s which latter became mine, and ever since I’ve made it at Caio Bella in 1987, I’ve never tasted one quite like mine, which as you know by now, is “The Worlds Best Ragu Bolonese Ever.” No Brag, Just Fact as Walter Brennan used to say in his Cowboy TV Show back in the 60s.

In 1998 I finally acheived my dream of opening my own restaurant. I opened up what turned out to be the 1st Ever Venetian Wine Bar (Bacaro) in the United States of America in Bar Cichetti. I was the Chef / Wine Director and managing partner of Bar Cichetti. I received numerous accolades from the New York Times, Time Out Magazine, New York Magazine and other publications, including my favorite one of all, a 5 page spread about me and my restaurant Bar Cichetti, and my favvorite line of all from The Journal of Italian Food Wine & Travel Magazine which saide, “Daniel (Bellino Zwicke0 makes the Best Ragu Bolognese in America.” Yes they said that, I couldn’t agree with them more.



















Mare Chiaro



Mare Chiaro

176 Mulberry Street




Eric Roberts







Maybe you never noticed Mare Chiaro on Mulberry Street. It was the bar – the only bar – on Mulberry Street. In fact, it was one of the only two bars I know of in Little Italy. Since I moved to New York, it had been one of the last places you could get a glimpse of what Little Italy had been like before it became “Little Italy” the tourist theme park. I don’t know when Mare Chiaro opened, but I believe ownership had been in the same family for at least a couple of generations. In a fashion typical of an old family business, it made no efficient use of its space or location. It was just the way it was. 

A very large, high-ceilinged, rectangular room, roughly divided into two areas by a wooden partition, it boasted a solid old bar, illogically stretched across the narrow end of the room nearest the door. This meant that if there was any kind of crowd – and to be honest, there rarely was – it would be clustered around the short bar, leaving the rest of the space pretty much empty. It was a cigar-smokers bar, when that was permitted, with a sweet-smelling fug. Most of the male customers were no strangers to hair cream and pomades. The juke box played not only Frank Sinatra, but also all those Italian singers you’ve never heard of who had once hoped to be Frank Sinatra.

A large painting of the bar in its heyday, featuring the then owner, hung on the wall opposite the door, alongside a full-length portrait of a gentleman I believe was his father. 





JOHN’S E. 12 th Street
Since 1908
“It’s Legendary”
Inside JOHN’S
Front Dining Room
ooking from Back to Front Door  WIndow
Mural of VENICE
Front Dinning Room
The Leaning Tower of Pisa
Muarl at JOHN’S
A Meeting of The Italian Red Saucce Society
Tuesday JANUARY 15 , 2019
Me, Kresh, Vince, Alexis, and Sophia
We drank a lot of good wine, inclucing; Rosso di Montalcino, Falerno, Altro Pavia, and ?
We ate; Speedino al Romano, Polpette (Meatballs), Spaghetti Carbonara, Escarole, Melanzane al Parmigiano (Eggplant), Veal Bismark (al Holstein), Rigatoni con Ragu, Cheesecake and TiraMi Su.
Oh buddy Jimmy took care of us and we had the most marvelous time.
Veal Bismark
aka Veal al Holstein
My old buddy, Chef Rene who I’ve known for almost 40 years made us Veal Bismark, which has not been on the menu for years, but he made it especially for our group. Everyone loved it. No one other then myself had ever eaten it before, and the wonderful flavors of the breaded fried veal cutlet, topped with a fried egg, and Anchovy Caper Sauce was amazing.
Veal a la Holstein was invented in the late 19th Century by the chef at the Berlin restaurant Borschardt, to please the palate of one Count Friedrich von Holstein. At John’s and at some other restaurants the dish is called Veal Bismark.
The Back Room at JOHN’S
Probably late 1940s or Early 50s
Near the Entrance of JOHN’S
Waiters side-station for Linnens and Plates
Note the Old Tile Floor