Restaurateur, runner, die-hard Lazio fan and beloved face of the Italian community in New York, Giovanni Bartocci is the soul of Via della Pace, a historic Roman osteria in the East Village that has become a landmark for Italians and New Yorkers alike. After two fires, Covid and an expired visa, Bartocci has not only reopened his place, but has continued to build community, resilience and authenticity. His story is one of fire (literally), racing, nostalgia, stubbornness and Roman cuisine. And in this conversation, he opened the doors to his American experience for us, without skipping a single step.
Born in Rome and raised in Ronciglione, on Lake Vico-one of Italy’s highest volcanic lakes-John soon began traveling the world. After six years in London, where he took his first steps in the world of catering and restaurant management, he returned to Italy. But it is a short passage: his uncle and other relatives have opened a restaurant in New York, Via della Pace, on 7th Street. They need a manager, and he answers the call. He is 28 years old.
New York won him over, but not with the same wild energy as his London youth. In London there was the first craziness, the soirees, the discovery of freedom. In New York, on the other hand, John tries to put everything he has learned to good use, to give concrete form to his experience. The city, however, does not discount him. It is a mad machine, running 24 hours a day. Peace Street is open from 11 a.m. to 1 a.m., and it never stops. “London is a sensual woman,” he says, “while New York is a beautiful model-both can sweep you off your feet.”
In fact, Bartocci in America even comes to enjoy some notoriety: in 2011, at the age of 32, he ended up in American sports news after celebrating the Green Bay Packers’ victory at the Super Bowl in Dallas. Leaving from New York without even a ticket, he managed to get a pass to enter the field in the final minutes of the game, and was immortalized behind Aaron Rodgers in the famous “I’m going to Disney World” commercial, which was broadcast across the country. A spontaneous, excessive gesture from “that guy,” as one American journalist called him: a term for those who are always in the right place at the right time.
Bartocci’s passion for the Packers was born during a visit to the United States at the age of 14, when he attended a team game at Lambeau Field. Since then, his cheering for the Packers has become such an integral part of his identity that he is recognized as one of the team’s most fervent supporters outside the United States. To this day, he is still visited at restaurants by Packers fans from all over America, intrigued by a figure as devoted as he is “distant” from the Dallas team.
But this is not then a story related to sports as much as to catering. The biggest challenge? Certainly not following the Packers, as much as bringing true Roman cuisine to a city where Italian-ness is often represented by Italian-American tradition. “We decided to be strict, not to compromise,” Bartocci says. “Carbonara, amatriciana, gricia: they are made with guanciale, not speck. And the pecorino cheese is Roman, period. If a customer wants spaghetti with meatballs? We bring him separate plates. If he wants parmesan on fish ravioli? We bring it to him, but he puts it on himself. We came here to be authentic, because we miss home.”
Via della Pace has become a gathering place for the Italian community. “It’s a place where you can find the same things you miss too,” he explains. The restaurant is affordable in its prices, designed like a real trattoria where you can walk in without having to get dressed up, “as if you were taking a walk in Rome.” The philosophy is to make everyone feel at home.
Yet, the path has not been easy. The hardest moments came with two devastating fires: the first, on Feb. 10, 2020; The second, on Dec. 5 of the same year, also destroyed the nearby church and building. In between, the pandemic, and an expired visa that forced him to remain stranded in the United States, with no possibility of returning to Italy. “I was alone, the restaurant closed, I couldn’t work. I felt crazy.” That’s when his marathon was born. “I started running. Like Forrest Gump. I found liberation in running.”
He decides to participate in the 50th New York City Marathon, raising money for children. He dedicates each mile to an important person in his life. He trains alone, with a program downloaded from an app, and runs 875 kilometers in six and a half months. “The only thing I could do was run.” And he manages to complete the marathon in 4 hours, 8 minutes and 57 seconds. “It was a crazy feeling. When you start from the Verrazano and see Central Park over there, you think, ‘How do I get there?’ But the city pushes you.”
Meanwhile, he does not stop cheering. The U.S. Open is held in the “bubble,” with no audience, but Giovanni does not give up. With a megaphone he goes outside the stadium to cheer for Matteo Berrettini. The scene is captured by ESPN cameras. The New York Times dedicates an article to him: the Italian restaurateur, a great friend of Berrettini’s, whose restaurant was destroyed by fire. It is because of that article that, a few months later, a person writes to him: he read the story, has a building, wants to offer him a space. It is a historic, former seafood restaurant at 87 East 4th Street. The address numbers are exactly those of the old place, but scrambled. “I still get chills. It was a sign.”
Today Via della Pace has been reborn. And Giovanni has also opened a small grocery store, Via della Scrofa, selling porchetta sandwiches, fresh pasta, and Italian products from the Alps to Etna. Open until 7 p.m., it is another extension of that longing for home that accompanies him everywhere.
Bartocci also reflects on how dining in New York has changed. The New York Times, he says, still carries a lot of weight: a recent article brought the restaurant four months in a row completely full. Social has changed service times, slowed down shifts, but the gist is the same: “If you make good food, it works. New York puts you in competition with the whole world. If you want Greek food, you go to Astoria and you get the real taste of Greece. If you want Japanese, there is. This city makes you travel without moving.”
To the new Italian generation coming in, he advises only one thing: be hungry. “As Steve Jobs said. It’s not like it was 30 years ago, the American dream is not easy. But if you are hungry, if you are not afraid to work hard, you can make it. In New York, where you are not working, there is always someone who is doing it for you.”
And if you ask him what his favorite places are, he tells you about Randalls Island-where he ran and talked to himself, the Queensboro Bridge, the East Village where the heart of Peace Street still beats. When he has a night off, he avoids Italian restaurants-“my analysis clicks”-and prefers Mexican or Korean, perhaps in Queens. And then there’s the bike, the bridges, the city seen as a moving work of art. “Rome is the history. New York is the future.”
Finally, the Lazio Club, which is more than just soccer: since its inception, it has raised more than $65,000 to donate to charity. “Everything we earn from merchandising and events, we donate. For us, Via della Pace is home. Nothing more.”
And in fact, listening to him, you can tell: it doesn’t matter if the venue is open or closed, if there is a crowd or silence, if there is a fire or a rebirth. Where Giovanni Bartocci is, there is always a piece of Italy. And of home.
The article John Bartocci’s is not just another story comes from TheNewyorker.
