Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Another visit to the Italian Village

Here's another look at the interior of the old Italian Village restaurant on State Street. The image is a scan of a postcard in Ann Waidelich's collection.

Looking at it closely, I'm reminded of the many intimate spaces within the Italian Village. Combine that with the memories that were stirred up by Marlene's comments about Casa da Pizza, and I'm in the midst of reconsidering where/how the Italian Village fit into the social scheme. Were you more likely to go there if you had a date? Were you more likely to go there if you were an upperclassman? Would junior high students even dare to enter its doors?


4 comments:

Janet Stevens said...

When did we go to The Italian Village? When we had money. It was table service and, thus, the cost was commensurate to the more genteel environment (compared to other pizza places with counter-service). Not only were the prices higher but, even then, we knew we had to leave a tip, which drove up the cost of an evening at The Italian Village.

Janet S.

D Strand said...

I knew there were reasons why my Father and some friends said not to go there sometimes, but I always wanted to go and always had a good time. I remember Lois Rubin liked to go there after Central games sometimes, so many of us tagged along despite the high cost and tipping obligations.
Danny Fix tried to teach me how to tip one night at Gino's after the IV had closed by making a competition out of it. He'd throw a quarter, I'd throw a dime, etc. til we had a huge pile of change for the waitress.

nancy ellis said...

Funny.
My Mom always said to "stay away from the Italian Village" aka "IV".

In retrospect I think it was because we either walked or rode the bus and then embarked upon STATE STREET...full of bars and older kids (UW students)..remember parents we were "babes: then!

I never remember tipping
I do remember table service
I do remember being afraid my MOM would discover I'd frequented the "IV"

D Strand said...

I think you're right, Nancy, but in addition, my Father was very suspicious of pizza in general. I think he thought it was evil. My Dad was of Norwegian descent (as was my Mom), so I guess I am, too!
If it had been called "The Lutefisk and Leftsa Village" it would have been OK!