Chazz pitches show, fills a cannolo
Palminteri in Schenectady to promote “Bronx Tale” at Proctors in October
Schenectady Chazz Palminteri stood motionless in the dining area of the bakery.
At 66, the actor is still lean and sleek, 6-foot-3 in metal-accented loafers, dress trousers, black pullover sweater and sunglasses topped by a sheen of inky hair slicked straight back. His people — there were at least three of them, including one named Bobby, who in the following half-hour would often seem to be elsewhere when Palminteri asked for him — scuttled among the small scrum of press and promotions folks.
Palminteri shook hands but otherwise stayed put, his reserve that of a man with great self-regard and almost as much tolerance for the obligations of stardom.
He was in town Monday to promote “A Bronx Tale,” which grew from his 30-year-old autobiographical one-man show into a 1993 movie and splashy 2016 Broadway musical that will have a six-day run at Proctors in late October. The pitch, to the actor’s people and the press, was to “Make Cannoli with Chazz.” The site: Villa Italia, the venerable Electric City pasticceria, located across the street from the back door to Proctors.
Cannoli are the perennial bestseller at Villa Italia, said Bobby Mallozzi, half a head shorter and two decades younger than Palminteri but equally sleek of hair. Mallozzi, whose parents founded Villa Italia in 1965, said the bakery’s customers buy 5,000 cannoli on Dec. 24 alone.
“It’s really not cannoli,” said Palminteri. By this point, they and the scrum were in the bakery’s workroom, about to fill cannoli. “Right,” said Mallozzi.
“It’s actually cannolo,” said Palminteri.
“Of course,” said Mallozzi. “Cannolo, cannoli,” said Palminteri. “They’re Sicilian.”
“Of course,” said Mallozzi. In the display case out front, beneath a tray of the tubular, sweet ricotta-
filled pastries, the sign reads, “Sicilian cannoli.”
“Americans don’t get this right,” said Palminteri. “Like raviolo, ravioli, not raviolis. It’s weird.”
Mallozzi demonstrated the proper cannolo-filling technique: ricotta into a pastry bag with a star-shaped tip, squirt in one end of the shell until half full, then squirt in the other. Be symmetrical. Don’t squeeze too hard. End with a star flourish on each end.
“Not bad for the first time,” said Palminteri.
“That’s your first cannoli you’ve ever filled?” said Mallozzi?
“First one.”
“In Schenectady!” Mallozzi said.
“First time I ever filled a cannoli,” Palminteri said.
The two have met before. Three and a half years ago, when Palminteri performed his solo “A Bronx Tale” at Proctors for one show, on a Sunday afternoon, about two dozen Mallozzi friends and family made themselves a private pre-performance pasta feast at Johnny’s, the Mallozzi restaurant across from the
front door of Proctors, because Johnny’s is closed on Sundays.
Someone knocked on the door, saying he was looking for a place to eat with a friend before the show. Bobby Mallozzi invited them in. The friend happened to be Frank Serpico, the former whistleblowing New York City cop played in a 1973 movie by Al Pacino. After the show, the group, complete with Serpico and Palminteri and Palminteri’s people, returned to Johnny’s.
“I have to take a bite,” said Palminteri, picking up a cannolo. “I’m taking a little bite. I’m taking one bite, and that’s it. I can’t eat more than one bite.”
He took one bite.
“Great cannoli, man,” he said. “Great,” said Mallozzi. “Great. Glad you like it.”
“I can’t eat any more,” said Palminteri. “I broke my diet, but one bite — not too bad.”
“Every day, all day ... (people say), ‘This is very a bad place to be if you’re on a diet,’” Mallozzi said.
“Look,” said Palminteri, “I have incredible willpower, but still I had to just taste it. I had to. I had to.”