The Diaferia Brothers Serve a Good Lasagna While Fulfilling the American Dream

During a grand ceremony on the steps of City Hall, Mayor Robert Wagner declared June 19, 1960 "Freedomland Day." He wanted all New Yorkers to celebrate the opening of a new amusement park, Freedomland, which at that time was billed as the world's largest outdoor family entertainment center. n This was Wagner's way of playing to the folks who lived in the hinterlands of

New York: Freedomland was built out in the northeast Bronx, in the Baychester section, where not much existed?except highways. The New England Thruway and Hutchinson River Parkway were nearby, and in those pro-car Robert Moses days, any parkland that could be accessed most easily by car was a boon because it kept out a certain "element"?meaning blacks and Latinos.

Freedomland was set on 205 acres of formerly fallow land, and its theme was American history, from the pioneer days to the new space age. In one of the corniest plans in architectural history, the park's grid was laid out in the shape of America. There were exhibits of Old New York, the San Francisco earthquake, Mrs. O'Leary's cow and the burning of Chicago, and the Wild West. Park owners proudly claimed that the kids would get a wonderful historical lesson along with their fun.

At first Freedomland was a big hit, but only so much history interests kids, and teenagers complained that the place had no rides. By 1962, Freedomland's attendance was dwindling fast.

The owners gave up on the Americana theme and went with a pure amusement park; rides were quickly brought in and thrown together. That worked for a bit, but the attractions were cheap and Freedomland was served with lawsuit after lawsuit from injured patrons. To counter legal expenses, the owners decided to cash in on the booming rock 'n' soul scene of New York: Freedomland would hold concerts at night?that would draw them in. Bring in a few doo-wop acts and some soul singers and the teens would flock to the park.

That they did, but now you had working-class and poor whites and blacks packed into a tight space, and fights broke out during the shows. One night after a concert armed bandits robbed the front office, making off with, Freedomland claimed, a large haul of money.

Then the World's Fair opened in Queens in 1964, and Freedomland was forgotten. Everyone wanted to see the world of the future, not the past. In 1965 Freedomland closed, its rides and exhibits were shipped to various amusement parks throughout America, and it became a fond memory and a piece of Bronx folklore. Former Bronx resident and bestselling author Richard Price named his 1998 book Freedomland as a tribute to the playground of his youth.

During Freedomland's glory days in the early 1960s a man opened a coffee shop nearby and called it the Pine Inn. He did some decent business, and even during Freedomland's decline held onto the shop. His son was due back from Vietnam and the father figured he could hand the Pine Inn over to him. Unfortunately, the son came back from the war suffering from what was known as "shell shock." The poor vet couldn't manage the coffee shop, so the father closed it down and there it sat, empty and forlorn, just like Freedomland that had inspired it.

On a spring day in 1965 two brothers, Patsy and Domenico Diaferia, were driving on the eastern end of Gun Hill Rd. when they saw the empty, for-sale coffee shop. The Diaferias were Italian immigrants struggling to raise families in the Bronx. They worked as day laborers and short order cooks, but money was always tight. They knew that the recipes they learned from their families in Italy would go over big in New York if they could just get enough money together to open their own restaurant. Patsy and Domenico sat in the car and talked about buying the Pine Inn: they'd work for themselves and fulfill that American dream. They contacted the owner, who was more than happy to sell; the Diaferia brothers then spent every cent and ounce of backbreaking labor they had to open Il Boschetto Ristorante.

Recently, 36 years after its opening, I sat at a table in the restaurant that is now called Burt Young's Il Boschetto Ristorante. Domenico and Patsy Diaferia are now in their 60s, look a decade younger and still do all the cooking. Their smiling, bright faces show that their lives have agreed with them. They tell me they brought in character actor Burt Young as a limited partner because of their friendship with him; they also figured it wouldn't hurt business.

Domenico sits down with me and Patsy, leans over and says, "Hey, why you talking with the dishwasher."

Domenico waves his brother back into the kitchen and tells me, "We had no money when we started. No money. But we had hope. I was a little worried at first because there wasn't much here back then. I mean, this whole neighborhood was practically empty. I didn't know where the business would come from. We knew we could cook and put out good food, but we needed people to eat it."

After some slow going, the Diaferias ran into good luck. A half-mile from their restaurant?near the closed Freedomland?a new middle-class development got Mitchell Lama federal funding. Thirty-five high-rise apartments would be constructed to house more than 60,000 people. The project would be completed by 1968.

"That was a few years away, but we figured that would bring in business. But when they started to ship in the sand to build Co-Op City?they needed sand because that was all swampland?suddenly we were getting huge lunch orders from the workers. Business really picked up."

When Co-Op City opened in '68 and those 60,000 people moved in, Il Boschetto became the talk of the new development?it was the best Italian restaurant in that part of the Bronx. The Diaferias expanded Il Boschetto and, in addition to their downhome cooking, they turned the place into a dining experience with singers warbling into the night. Another room for parties was added, and business was good.

"I tell you, the hard work paid off. We pay attention to our customers. We got a real good name?especially in Co-Op City."

Domenico raised his family on 199th St. in the Bronx, and as he and his restaurant prospered he did what most Bronx strivers did?he moved to Rockland County.

By the mid-90s, most of Il Boschetto's Co-Op City clientele had moved away. The area had become predominantly West Indian, and though the restaurant still did well, something was needed. The Italian immigrants weren't about to start a jerk chicken joint, so Patsy Diaferia came up with an idea: he would offer his friend, character actor Burt Young, a small piece of the business; in exchange, they'd rename the restaurant Burt Young's Il Boschetto Ristorante. Young agreed. Today a bunch of color photos of Young with James Gandolfini and other actors are up on the walls, and once again business is good.

Later I sat and had a plate of lasagna. I'm no restaurant critic but the food was good and solid, made in that old-school New York-style Italian way. The waiters were charming and attentive, and in between meals the Diaferias came out and talked with every patron. You want something special, just ask Domenico and he'll make it for you.

I asked Domenico if Burt Young comes to the restaurant.

"Oh, sure. He was here Friday night. He'll stay two or three hours, talking with people. Nice man. He usually is here on the weekends."

Patsy comes over and tells me about a singer they have there on the weekends. He says that if you close your eyes you will swear it's Frank Sinatra singing.

A big table comes in and Patsy walks back into the kitchen. Domenico turns, smiles at me and says, "About Burt Young, this is still our joint. We gave Burt a little piece?" Then in a soft voice he says, "We got 95 percent.

"You tell people to come here," he adds. "You ask for Domenico, I treat them good. We treat everyone good here. Hey, 36 years. We did something right."

Burt Young's Il Boschetto Ristorante, 1660 E. Gun Hill Rd., Bronx, 718-379-9335, www.ilboschetto.com.

[sullivan@nypress.com](mailto:sullivan@nypress.com)