James Gandolfini had a thing for excellent red-sauce Italian food. When he was filming an episode of The Sopranos at Bamonte’s, in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn, the actor predicted that it, too, would become a star. “[James] turned to me and said, ‘Anthony, whaddya gonna do with all your money?’” recalls restaurateur Anthony Bamonte. “And I replied, ‘Same as you. Spend it!’”
Bamonte’s has changed little since it was founded by Pasquale Bamonte, an immigrant from Salerno and Bamonte’s grandfather, in 1900. A squat building of sand-colored brick and red siding, on Withers Street, it’s a quick walk from both the local Catholic church and the Exley, a popular gay bar.
Outside, a full-time valet presides over the parking lot, a Goodfellas touch one rarely sees these days. (The nearby Brooklyn-Queens Expressway is heavily used by Bamonte’s Italian-American regulars, who come from all over both boroughs.) Inside, there’s a long-dormant cigarette machine, a phone booth, and faded photographs of actors from Gandolfini on down to Michael V. Gazzo, who portrayed the raspy-voiced Frank Pentangeli in The Godfather: Part II.
“The truth is, most of all the old guys passed away,” says Bamonte. Today, the neighborhood is home to Hermès, Chanel, and many far shinier restaurants, but Bamonte’s is busier than ever. It’s one of the few places where longtime locals and new arrivals break hot, crusty bread side by side. (Oftentimes, TikTokers are there to document.)
How to explain Bamonte’s appeal? “Well, I’m hoping that it’s the food, number one,” says Bamonte. Its standards include escarole soup, chicken Parmesan, and its starter of bread and long hot peppers. “Number two, I’m hoping that it’s my children. They take care of the people.”
Sitting nearby, his daughter Lisa, who runs the day-to-day operations, offers advice for reservation seekers. “You know, show a little respect for one another,” she says. “Whatever your attitude is, leave it outside.”
Perhaps Bamonte’s popularity also has something to do with its look and feel—burgundy-painted walls, ornate chandeliers, and oil paintings. (It reminded me of my Italian-American grandparents’ house in nearby Canarsie.) Carbone and its imitators manufacture that old-school atmosphere where Frank Sinatra types drank and dined, but Bamonte’s stands as the genuine article.
“Basically, nothing changes here,” says Bamonte, sipping a glass of dark red wine as he hacks away at his lunch. “You know, we’ve renovated, but we used the same colors.” Reservations are written in pencil in a thick paper book. The lights are turned off for all of August.
The menu hasn’t evolved, either. That marinara sauce that Joe DiMaggio used to lap up? Go ahead and enjoy. “One night,” says Bamonte, teeing up another one of his stories, “a kid comes over to the table: ‘Can you sign this for me?’ So Joe says to the kid, ‘Do you know who I am?’ The kid shook his head no…. Afterwards, he said, ‘They figure if they sent a kid, I’d say yes.’”
Today, Leonardo DiCaprio and former Mets catcher Mike Piazza are among those who have stopped by. On a recent afternoon, as Bamonte’s enters its 125th year in business, a parade of white-haired couples paused to pay to their respects to Bamonte. “God bless you,” said one of the men admiringly. “You worked hard your whole life.”
Rob LeDonne is a New York-based writer and contributor to Vogue, Vanity Fair, Esquire, and Billboard, among others
