The Origin STory

How It All Really Started (Part 1)

The restaurant business started for me in Northampton. 1999.

I was underage, broke, and absolutely convinced I knew how to cook.

I was helping my aunt and uncle move to South Hadley, and I dragged along a buddy of mine—a fellow Long Island line cook and professional bad-idea enthusiast. After a full day of hauling furniture, we decided we deserved a beer. So naturally, we grabbed our fake IDs and drove to Northampton.

And—OMG.

This little city had everything: live music, art galleries, weird shops, and a restaurant scene that punched way above its weight. One lap around downtown and I knew—I didn’t just want to visit. I needed to live here. Worst case scenario, I’d cook for a while.

I mean… how hard could it be?

The Move North

Three weeks later, my buddy and I rented a moving van, threw our lives in the back, and headed north. We were both working at a chain restaurant, which made transferring easy. If you’ve ever worked at a chain, you know the drill: same food, same microwaves, different zip code.

Cue the montage:too much partying, nonstop work, and somehow… promotions.

Then reality stepped in and kicked me in the teeth.

My dad passed away.I was 19.

I took a month off to reset my brain—and my soul. During that time, I had a terrifying realization: I did not want to spend my life reheating food designed by a corporate committee three states away. If I was going to stay in restaurants, I needed to get good. Actually good.

I had hustle. I had instincts.What I didn’t have was education—and I needed to earn it the hard way.

So I ditched the chain and went looking for a real restaurant job in Northampton.

A Foot in the Door

I landed a lunch waiter gig at Fitzwilly’s on Main Street. Classic pub food. Solid crowd. Good money.

But I wasn’t there for Fitzwilly’s.

I wanted Spoleto.

Spoleto was the restaurant. Three-hour waits on weekends. Packed every night. If you worked there, you’d officially “made it.” And running the whole operation was Claudio Guerra—larger than life, louder than the dining room, and somehow everywhere at once. You’d hear his laugh from across the restaurant and instantly know: the boss was in the building.

Then I saw it. A newspaper ad.

Yes—an actual newspaper. This was early 2000. People still trusted ink.

Open interviews for Spoleto.

The Interview (Sort Of)

The interviews were held at Del Raye Bar and Grill, Claudio’s new high-end, California-style concept. I walked in determined to get hired at Spoleto—even though I was technically in the wrong building.

At the table sat the GM, the manager of Del Raye, and Claudio himself. I filled out my application, waited my turn, and finally sat down.

Then Claudio’s phone rang.

He stood up.And walked away.

Perfect.

I knew right then I was cooked. No chance to charm the big boss.

No second look. No callback.

Three days later, my phone rang.

I was hired. At Spoleto!

The Big Leagues

Spoleto didn’t just change my job—

it changed my entire life.

This was the big leagues. The money was real. The pace was insane. And somehow, Claudio knew my name. The guy was magnetic: huge personality, beautiful fiancée, chef-trained in Germany, parents who owned restaurants. He was born into this life.

Meanwhile, I was born into Long Island life—pressing buttons on a microwave.

Once we realized I was from Long Island and he was from Queens, everything clicked. I watched him work the room like a master: charm, edge, confidence, control. I didn’t know if I could ever be that guy—but I knew I wanted to try.

After about a year of absorbing everything—front of house, back of house, bar, management—I decided I was ready to open my own place.

With zero dollars.

Yep. Zero. Obviously a flawless plan.

I couldn’t afford first, last, and security on an apartment, but there I was, daydreaming about opening a restaurant in some rundown, rat-infested space.

Claudio overheard me.

He shut it down immediately.

“Don’t do it. You’re not ready.”

It felt like Mike Tyson uppercut me straight into the afterlife—until he followed it up with:

“I’m opening a new place on King Street. Come take a look with me. See if you want to help open it.”

I got knocked out and resurrected in the same sentence.

And that’s where everything really began.

To be continued…