Family fare

History, traditions, and exquisite taste for the real thing bind the ingredients in the Italian South End

November 16, 2008|Patricia Harris and David Lyon, Globe Correspondents

It was only midmorning, but we were fighting hunger pangs as Mayor Domenic Sarno sat behind the desk in his wood-paneled office and described the pastries, pastas, and pizzas of Italian Springfield. He easily recited the families who own every Italian restaurant, bakery, and market in his city of 152,000. But that's not surprising, since many of those families, including his own, hail from the same town in Italy.

Today, three times as many people from Bracigliano live in Springfield as in the hill town (population 5,230) north of Salerno and east of Naples. In June, Sarno played host to Mayor Ferdinando Albano of Bracigliano in a "family reunion" in the city's South End. "It was the proudest day for my parents," he said of Bracigliano-born Alfonso and Clara Sarno, who run Al's Barber Shop and Clara's Alterations near Forest Park.

Visitors who come to Springfield to hit the Basketball Hall of Fame or tour the Quadrangle museums might never glimpse this vibrant Italian-American community, yet it's hiding in plain sight. Historically, the South End was Italian: a dense neighborhood stretching from State Street south to Mill Street, and from Main Street west to Interstate 91.

It used to go all the way to the Connecticut River, but the construction of the elevated interstate ripped up the heart of the South End beginning around 1960. "We lost a lot of the residences," says Franco Daniele, president of the Mount Carmel Society, established in 1897 by Bracigliano immigrants. "But we're trying to hold together the businesses."

Daniele, who immigrated as a teenager in the 1960s, imports food. Italian businesses here, it seems, often have something to do with food. While many South End families have dispersed to nearby towns and other parts of Springfield, the restaurants, delis, and markets still draw them back to the old neighborhood.

One stalwart is Albano's Market on East Columbus Avenue, the central artery of the Italian neighborhood until I-91 was built on top of it. On the advice of Sarno and Daniele, we made a beeline to the old-fashioned storefront for a cup of lemon ice. Melissa Ketchell of Enfield had the same idea. She was making a quick stop on the way to see her obstetrician. "Every time I get pregnant," she said, resting a hand on her belly, "I get a craving for lemon ice." Why Albano's? "My mom used to come here."

Filomena Bruschi runs the grocery with her sister Theresa D'Angelantonio. "We've been making Italian ice here for 66 years," Bruschi said. "We make it the old-fashioned way, like ice cream without the cream. We're the last store that does it." And they don't make it in cool weather. Bruschi's husband cranks out the frozen treat only from Memorial Day to Columbus Day.

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