Oklahoma Sketches: Big-City Cuisine in Small-Town America: Italian brothers create Milan-inspired dishes

BY MICHAEL OVERALL World Staff Writer
Monday, June 25, 2007
2/04/08 at 3:37 PM

Read other stories in the series: A funereal existence :: Last real Coyote hunter :: Reaping what we sow :: Prairie family persevered :: 'Not much left' of town except strong local pride :: Oklahoma 'ghost town' still alive and kicking :: ‘We’re all characters around here’ :: Hominy warms to Mexican cuisine :: Remnant of boom days :: Cut from the same cloth

Editors Note: During 2007 -- Oklahoma's centennial year -- Tulsa World staff writer Michael Overall is traveling the state, writing about unique Oklahoma personalities.

WOODWARD -- The restaurant looked about as fancy as a used-car dealership, with fluorescent lighting, wobbly tables and a sweeping view of its own parking lot.

On a Saturday night, the guests were more John Deere than Ralph Lauren. Around here, it's impolite not to wear a ball cap at the dinner table.

The hotel clerk recommended it as "the best place in town," which on first impression doesn't say much for the other restaurants in Woodward, a town of 12,000 people two hours west of Enid.

But the food -- it makes you expect to glance out the window and see the Fountain of Neptune standing in a Renaissance piazzo. The tortellini siliciano comes sauteed with ham and olives, topped with a creamy tomato-Alfredo sauce. And the tiramisu might come in a Styrofoam cup, but the rich chocolaty taste deserves to be served on fine china.

Impressed, a guy at the next table wanted to know who owns this place.

"The Italian people," the waitress said, with an unspoken "of course" in her voice.

"Oh, yeah," the guy nodded. "The Italian people."

In Woodward, everybody knows the Italian people.

Last summer, two brothers with thick accents hired some local handymen to repair the vacant restaurant space at the old Wayfarer Inn.

"What's your name again?" a contractor asked one brother over the phone.

"Andreatti."

"What?"

"An-dree-ought-tea."

"Tony?"

"No. Andreatti."

"Alvin?"

"Yeah," the newcomer sighed. "Alvin. That's it."

Now, even his brother calls him Alvin.

'Came to visit': It's a 450-mile drive from Dallas to Liberal, Kan., just across the state line from the Oklahoma Panhandle.

"Alvin" Vito made the trip several times to visit his cousins, who branched off from the family restaurant in Texas to open their own place.

They became an immediate sensation, Alvin observed, because Liberal didn't offer much competition.

"Every time I came through Woodward, I thought, 'This town doesn't look like it has too many places to eat, either.' Especially Italian -- there was Pizza Hut and that's it."

Alvin and his brother, 30-something-year-old Tony Vito, rented the first space they found -- not because it was particularly nice, but because it was big enough for 130 seats.

"You can always make a big place nicer, when you have the time and money," Alvin explained. "But you can't always make a nice place bigger."

They call their new restaurant Napoli's, because they learned all the recipes from their mother, who grew up in Naples.

Now in his mid-20s, Alvin himself grew up in Milan until he was 14, when his family moved to Dallas.

"We came to visit for a while and just stayed. We love it in America."

'Yes, forever': Napoli's opens at 11 o'clock on Sunday mornings, but the after-church crowd doesn't hit before 11:30. So Alvin has time to sit down at a corner table for a short interview.

With olive skin, dark hair and three-day stubble, he looks like the Italian bachelor from some romantic comedy. His accent is so heavy that sometimes it's hard to tell if he's actually speaking English -- he has to repeat himself a lot, gesturing more and more passionately with his hands.

Coming to a quiet little town like Woodward, he has to miss the excitement of a big city like Dallas, doesn't he?

"When you're in a restaurant, you're there all the time. Ten, 12 hours a day. Six, seven days a week. Here. Always here. So it doesn't matter where you are. Dallas, Woodward -- it's the same for me."

The customers must be different.

"No. The same."

Really? A customer in Dallas doesn't seem likely to wear camouflage to dinner.

"Yeah, you're right about that. But the people are still nice. Very nice people."

Maybe they seem less adventurous here, preferring spaghetti and meatballs instead of veal?

"Veal marsala is the most popular thing. And shrimp scallopini with mussels -- people love it."

OK. Never underestimate the sophistication of small-town Oklahoma. But any plans for the future?

"We're going to fix up things a lot. Decorate. Make it nice."

But beyond that? Can a chef from Milan really leave Dallas to spend the rest of his life in Woodward?

"I think I'm going to stay. Yes, forever. Everywhere I go -- Wal-Mart, Walgreens, the gas station, everywhere -- people know me and ask how I'm doing. The people are very good, very nice, and they like our food. Why would I want to leave?"

Michael Overall 581-8383
michael.overall@tulsaworld.com

Associated Images:

Andreatti “Alvin” Vito stirs sauce in his Italian restaurant in Woodward.