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About Bari

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—Lola, swear she was a legend. Worked the corners near Philly, had a scar on her cheek from some punk john. Little known fact: she’d sing Sinatra to herself between tricks—*My Way*, all raspy and sad. “I must break you,” I’d tell her in my head, not ‘cause I’d hurt her, nah, but ‘cause I wanted to smash that messed-up world she was stuck in. She’d laugh, say, “Apollo, you aint shit,” but her eyes? Man, they screamed for a knockout punch to escape.

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So, I’m wandering around, trying to find this café everyone raves about. I hit up Via San Giovanni, and wow, the vibe is just... electric. People everywhere, chatting, laughing, and I’m just trying to blend in. I finally find this little spot called Caffè Centrale. The coffee? Oh man, it was like liquid gold. I downed a double espresso, and I swear, I could’ve run a marathon. Or at least jogged a bit.

Luigi Taglienti | Chef