Sweet pastry with espresso. EVOO and pretty much anything. Mourinho and Vespas. Italy and the ’06 World Cup. Forno Tony and the Serie A. Billy Antonio Gushue and the family recipes. Italy has produced some impeccable pairings, some known by many and others known by few — but at Italian bakery Forno Tony, there are two favorites: calcio (soccer) and culinary arts.
Anyone walking within a block of 1350 University Ave. on a Friday or Saturday is hit with the warm smell of dough coming to a perfect crisp. On a cold afternoon in January, dozens found themselves in a small space inside the massive warehouse that also houses Black Button Distilling.
“Now serving 95!”
The Roman-style bakery runs service deli-style. Walk in, take a paper number, place an order, and pay at the register with a picture of Italian football legend Francesco Totti on it. In line, people slide along the chest-high glass counter, ordering cuts of pizza rossa con mozzarella as it lands on the line fresh out of the oven. The walls are covered in scarves, flags, and a collection of childhood kits prominently featuring the Azzurri, A.C. Milan, and of course, Roma — an impressive showing of calcio memorabilia.
Forno Tony embodies the principles of true Italian baking, staying close to its roots and building around quality ingredients, texture, flavor, and balance. More distinctly, though, it is Roman, producing elongated ovular shaped pizzas sold by the quarter cut most often found in Italian bakeries. A crust unique and beloved, with its airy interior and crispy outside. It’s as poetic as a Daniele de Rossi slide tackle deep in the midfield. These sights may not be uncommon in Rome, but seldom are they found outside of it — until Forno Tony.
The flour-covered hands behind it all are those of Billy Antonio Gushue: AS Roma supporter, welcoming host, lover of the city of Rome, and a person passionate about bringing true Italian offerings to Rochesterians. Gushue is a Greece native who spent most of his youth close to home, later finding himself living in L.A. and studying in Rome. Eventually, Gushue returned to Rochester, this time with a mind full of mortadella and paper-thin prosciutto.
“This is what Romans eat, ya know?” he said, cutting two slices of bread. “You don’t see stuff like pizza bianca or pizza rossa much around here, or much of the U.S.” He reached to grab a block of provolone as he continued. “I wanted to make a space where people could have daily food people eat (in Rome),” he said.
Gushue and his brother/co-owner, Ryan, trace their family roots to the town of Melfi, in south-central Italy.
“It’s what you’d consider a working class town,” said Gushue. “My family came here and was involved in the textile industry, like many Italians. My grandpa eventually became the head of the (textile) union, but he’s really the one who got me into cooking.”
With a final drizzle of olive oil and a few peppers, Gushue wrapped up a sandwich and handed it across the counter to a friend.
“My grandpa was a really great cook, he and his sisters made sure we kept our recipes passed down within the family,” he said. “He used to make us pizzettes as kids, which really kicked off my passion for baking. We have recipes that come from Melfi that have been in the family for hundreds of years.”
At the crossroads of Roman technique, centuries-old family recipes, and modern vision, Gushue has found himself slinging 70 pizzas in 90 minutes during a Saturday rush at Forno Tony — all in a well-worn Roma home kit and cap to match.
“Sports were just on all the time, I couldn’t help it,” he said. “Totti was it. For me it’s also a love of the city. It represents everything about Rome to be a Roma fan.”
The accolades for soccer player Francesco Totti, who is an icon for the Gushue brothers, speak for themselves — a single club player will always win the love, and likely disdain, of fans.
A member of the local Club Napoli supporters group gifted the crew at Forno Tony a scarf, a collaboration unheard of (unless one partner makes really great food). The Lazio scarf around the trash bin — look away now, Ciro Immobile — is a reminder certain rivalries are not so easily undone, and a proudly hung Melfi scarf represents the familial hometown, surrounded by portraits of family throughout the generations.
One of the extraordinary things that food and soccer share is they act as a common place for the communities they are born from. Often, they are the catalyst for the community itself. In a way, they represent memories that are passed along and carried on — a kind of passage in time.
Just after the ‘sold out’ announcement, the final few numbers were called, an ordering customer leaned in closer to ask if they could sub one of their middle pieces for an end. “Of course! The ends are the best part!” said Ryan. “Nobody knows that. You need a coffee to go?”
Romantic prose about De Rossi and crust aside, why these things become a part of collective memory is most interesting. Perhaps because the forces behind them embody the triumph and tragedy central to experiences like food and sport. It’s places like Forno Tony and people like Gushue who breathe life into those memories, keeping recipes and legacy alive for years to come.
“Antonio was my grandpa’s name,” he said, “it’s my middle name, and it’s my son’s name.” fornotony.comRob Houppert is a freelance contributor to CITY.