Happy Birthday, Patsy!

       Patsy in his younger years

        Today (March 6th) is Patsy’s birthday – not of the restaurant, but the actual founder! My great grandfather was born March 6^th, 1903, in Italy. He went on to become the proud owner of one of the greatest restaurants in New York City, but the story of how he got to America, raised the money to start his own restaurant, and make it such a huge success is a pretty impressive one. Since today’s Patsy’s birthday, I feel like it’s appropriate for us to go over his entire life.


                                                                               
                                                                                   
Like I said, it all started in 1903. He was born as Pasquale Scognamillo, and enjoyed a comfortable life in Italy, working as a barber. That wasn’t meant to be, though – as hair cutting became more sophisticated and a plethora of chemicals were introduced, Pasquale discovered that he had allergic reactions to just about all of them. He was fine with that, though, as he’d already been hearing about the American dream, and had decided that it was something he wanted to pursue. After making sure that his wife (Concetta) and young daughter (Anna) would be taken care of, he set sail for America!


…or so he thought. Back then, they didn’t have fancy travel itineraries or even a clear indication of what a boat’s travel route was. Young Pasquale thought his boat’s first stop was in America, so he eagerly got off and was pleased to see that New York was actually a tropical location. Unfortunately, he’d actually ended up in Cuba, and spent a small chunk of time working there to save up enough money for a trip to his actual destination, New York.

Another picture of Patsy when he was young, this time with Concetta as well!

Incidentally, this mishap taught him two things. He learned an impressive amount of Spanish, and he realized that he loved tropical weather. Later in life, when he retired, he moved down to Florida as a way to relive those younger days.
                                  

                                             

As I said, he made his way up to New York shortly after the mishap in Cuba, and when he went through Ellis Island, the name Pasquale was shortened to “Patsy”. Eager to make enough money to buy a nice apartment and have his family come over, he took a job as a busboy and quickly impressed everyone with his hard work ethic, humble attitude, and impressive intelligence. His personality and business sense earned him several promotions, until he was in a partnership with several other people, running an Italian restaurant that became known as the Italian restaurant in New York City.

Things were going well for Patsy, so he sent for his wife and children (one of whom was born shortly after he left for America). At this point, Patsy had already decided he wanted to open his own restaurant, but it was an incredibly expensive and risky operation. Concetta proved integral in helping him realize this dream – she set about maintaining the family’s income, and making sure that not a cent was wasted. After getting out of a bad partnership related to another restaurant, Patsy finally decided to open up his own.

When it came to naming the restaurant, it was a no-brainer – it had to be “Patsy’s”, because everybody in the restaurant business and the theatre business knew him as Patsy! It was also decided that the food would never strive to be ‘modern’ Italian. Instead, it’d be the exact food you’d find if you went to the town that Patsy was born in; classic, Neapolitan food that tasted homemade and made you feel comfortable. As for the staff, everybody in the family was working at the restaurant, including a young Uncle Joe! Even as a little kid, he’d help out with sweeping the floor, while Anna watched over the register. This was the beginning of a long-standing tradition in our family, whereby everyone (literally, everyone) works at Patsy's at some point in their life.

  Patsy in the Kitchen - Judging by the way he was dressed, you'd assume he was a waiter, not the owner. That's the way he wanted it.  

     

Despite the fact that he was now the owner of a restaurant, he still maintained all the qualities that people loved about him when he was a busboy. He was gracious, kind, and still incredibly humble. So humble, in fact, that instead of wearing a suit at the front door, he continued to wear his gray jacket. Beyond just this, he’d often clear off tables, fill up people’s water, or perform other duties that a busboy would usually do. When asked why, he said he felt that it was unfair of him to ask the waiters to do these things if he wouldn’t do them himself. It was pretty inspiring for the staff, seeing that the owner of the restaurant considered their role so important that he’d often help them out, and it always warmed customer’s hearts when they’d ask “So where’s Patsy?”, and someone would say “What do you mean? He just brought you your food!”

  Patsy also loved music – he played several instruments very passionately, but never felt that he wanted to dedicate himself to a musical career. That said, he had tremendous respect for any musician that came into the restaurant, especially those who were struggling. This is how he forged special relationships with Frank Sinatra, Rosemary Clooney, and many others – they’d show up to the restaurant, down on their luck and nearly broke, and say “I can’t pay for much Patsy, so just give me something light.” Instead, he’d give them an enormous meal and refuse to accept any of their money in return. When they insisted, he’d always say “You’ll pay me back when you can afford to.” He wasn’t doing this because he was banking on them becoming famous; he legitimately wanted to help them in any way he could, and the fact that some of these people happened to become huge superstars just made him even happier.

There’s a great story about how one time, a couple days before Thanksgiving, Sinatra came into Patsy’s and was feeling pretty depressed. (This was at a low point in his career, well before his meteoric rise.) Near the end of his meal, he mentioned to Patsy “You know, I think I’d actually like to come here for dinner on Thanksgiving.” Now, Patsy’s had always been closed for Thanksgiving, but my great grandfather couldn’t turn away someone who was already feeling down, so without missing a beat, he smiled and said it’d be no problem. When Sinatra left that night, Patsy asked the staff of the restaurant if they could come in with their families and have Thanksgiving at Patsy’s instead of home, so the restaurant felt like it was still open. Sinatra came, had a great meal, and left feeling much better – and for years, Patsy insisted that nobody ever tell him what happened. It wasn’t until many years later that Sinatra figured out what Patsy had done for him, but at that point he had come to know Patsy so well that yet another act of kindness was hardly surprising.

The sad truth is, I never actually got to meet my great grandfather. By the time I was born, he had already passed away. Despite that, I can’t help but feel as though I’ve always known him. Since I was a little kid, I’ve been hearing the stories, and I’ve spent so much time in the restaurant that it just feels as though he's always been there. There's no denying that he's been an incredibly important part of my life, as well as a plethora of people who've eaten in the restaurant over the years. Patsy touched many people's lives, and his legacy lives on in a restaurant that has embraced all of the philosophilies he lived by. 

~Paul