Arrive Magazine - January/February, 2012

Ever since Rubino first slipped “ specials” onto the menu, he’s kept a sharp eye on customers’ changing tastes and the competition.

“We keep up with the times,” Rubino days. You’re a vegetarian? The lunch menu features a Vegetable Hoagie stuffed with roasted peppers, spinach, eggplant and provolone. Watching your cholesterol? Choose broiled fish, chicken or veal.

None of Rubino’s culinary innovations has overshadowed the presence of his predecessors. Grandpa Francesco, Uncle Ralph and Aunt Eleanor still look down from the restaurant’s walls. Wherever you sit, their eyes aren’t following you—they’re following the waiters. Making sure things are done right. ( When you go, bring cash. Ralph’s doesn’t accept credit cards. But then, neither does your family.)

cookbook, Ralph’s Italian Restaurant: 100 Years and 100 Recipes.

In the restaurant business, however, standing the test of time doesn’t mean standing still. Tastes change.

“When my brother Eddie and I took
over the business in 1980,” Rubino recalls,
“we wanted to update the menu and the
décor. My Uncle Ralph and Aunt Eleanor
wouldn’t hear of it, so we waited until they
went on vacation.”
When they returned, they discovered
that Rubino had added a nightly special to
the menu, which was as taboo as drawing
a mustache on the Mona Lisa.

“My first special was chicken Rubino—
grilled chicken breast with hot cherry
peppers, onions, green peppers, garlic,
dry wine and a dash of cream. It was an
instant hit. My uncle was horrified until
he saw the night’s receipts.”
Aunt Eleanor was not so forgiving.

“She was so secretive about her rum cake recipe that she took it with her when she died,” says Rubino.

“Our recipes were never written,”
he continues, “they were handed
down.” Rubino started busing tables
at age 5 and cooking at 13. But to
celebrate the restaurant’s 100th
anniversary, he was finally per-
suaded to part with his family’s
treasured recipes.

Something Old, Something New When Dante & Luigi’s Corona di Ferro opened its doors in 1899, it quickly became a destination for Italian immigrants who arrived in their new city with the restaurant’s name pinned to their lapels. They knew they would find lodgings on the restaurant’s upper floors and employment in the nearby Italian market. It was a family-run business, passed from one generation to the next, but Dante & Luigi’s eventually succumbed to a time warp: That wasn’t Parmesan falling on your plate; it was the ceiling. This was the challenge that Connie and Michael LaRussa embraced when they bought Dante & Luigi’s in 1996.