No one forgets their first Di Chiera continental roll.
The stab of disorientation as you pass through those automatic doors and discover a thriving Italian deli hiding in plain sight on busy Fitzgerald Street. That sense of apprehension as you try to figure out where the queue for the sandwich counter begins. The constant bursts of spirited, sing-song Italian accents.
Of course, there’s also the taste of the continental roll itself – often shortened to “conti” out west – a jaw-tester of a sandwich freighting Italian cold cuts (in Di Chiera’s case, mortadella, ham, salami and coppa), cheese and salad. While these three ingredients are the building blocks for so many sandwiches in so many homes in so many countries around the world, some sort of sandwich sorcery occurs when they come together at an Italian deli.
And like the hoagies, heroes, subs and other great Italian-American sandwiches of the world, crunchy salad plus pickled vegetables and meaty cold cuts crammed into a crunchy roll is a formula that transcends class and age. At any given lunchtime, the crowd inside Di Chiera Brothers is a hungry mix of young and old, high-vis and high fashion. It’s a party eaters wanted to be at.
Di Chiera's conti roll: a Perth tradition. Source: Di Chiera Brothers
Yesterday, the party felt a little less upbeat. On Saturday, co-owner Silvana took to Facebook to go public with the news that after 64 years of service, the store was closing its doors indefinitely. Similar to when word got out that legendary Perth Italian baker Vastese was turning off its ovens for good, loyal fans took the news hard and immediately bum-rushed the store for one last – or even second- or third-last – continental roll hit before D-Day today. According to a friend that rushed over to the store within an hour of hearing the news, the store’s bread stocks barely looked like it’d survive the lunch rush, let alone the day (that he ordered one roll for now and another for later in the day probably didn’t help).
At 10am on Monday March 13, Di Chiera Brothers is surprisingly empty. Not just in terms of people, but the general feel of the place. Once-abundant fruit and veg sections lay barren. Vacant swatches of fridge- and shelf-space stick out like missing teeth. The overcast conditions underscore the scene’s zombie apocalypse quality. It’s a grey, miserable day.
On the upside, no crowds means no waiting to place my (last ever) order: a regular conti as well as a Calabrese roll, a glorious combination of spicy Italian sausage and *friarelli*, sautéed broccoli rabe. This morning, I’m playing the part of delivery driver and bringing a couple of rolls to a mate that can’t make it North Perth for his final hit. The sausages are cooked to order so I’ve got time to wander around the store. In a time where homogeneousness seems to be king in hospitality circles, it’s a joy to be somewhere like Di Chiera where personality rather than lightboxes and bare Edison bulbs are front and centre. A crate of old Swan Draught long necks (circa the early 80s, I reckon) has been wedged above one of the fridges. Hubcaps are proudly displayed above the meat slicer alongside braids of dried garlic and chilli and speak to co-owner Tom Di Chiera’s love of cars and connection to the building.
As far as key dates on the Di Chiera timeline go, two are worth committing to memory. The first is 1953, the year that Antonio opened the first of two stores on William Street in Northbridge.
Like so many Italian immigrants in Western Australia, the Di Chieras hailed from Calabria, the “toe” in Italy’s south. The second date of note is 1969: the year the family unveiled its (then) new North Perth digs. Although they had been on Fitzgerald Street since 1957 (fun fact: the site’s previous owner was former Perth mayor and supermarket entrepreneur Thomas Wardle), the Di Chieras had to wait till deli next door became available before they could open in earnest. Like many migrant businesses, frugality was part and parcel for life and Antonio, wife Eleonora and their young family lived above the store. For Tom – he and wife Silvana bought the business from his parents in 1991 – 527 Fitzgerald Street is the only address he’s ever had.
Early days: from left, Antonio di Chiera, Delfo d'Angelo, Giuseppe di Cheira and Charlie Ferreri at the original Di Chiera Brothers store on William Street, Northbridge, in the early 1950s. Source: Di Chiera Brothers
In six decades of history, a family business accumulates plenty of stories and Tom has committed plenty of good ones to memory. There was, for instance, the time during the 70s when Tom’s mum rebranded the deli as a “panino-teca” in a bid to push the store’s continental rolls (As Tom tells it, the Italian customers called the sandwiches a panino Italiano, the “continental” roll was a term coined by Australian customers as all the key components of the sandwich came from countries on the European continent). He smiles when he recalls the time an irate customer, early in Tom’s stewardship, took exception to Tom’s experiments with lower-price, lower-quality sandwiches. (Tom: “He came in and threw the rolls at me and said, ‘you’ve gone and f**ked it. When your mother was here she was making the best ones. Lift your game Tom, I won’t be back until you do’.”). Memories of afternoons spent making melanzane, the eggplant pickles that were a defining feature of the Di Chiera conti, are also firmly entrenched in Tom’s memory banks.
While Di Chiera Brothers was proud of its history, the business also had a progressive streak. Following a power failure at the deli’s bread supplier in 1996, Tom began baking Di Chiera’s own excellent “hybrid crispy” bread on-site. Last year, the deli launched an app that allowed customers to order rolls online, an idea almost as audacious as getting local street art legend Daek Williams to spray-paint an entire side of the deli.
Did all these flourishes help get Di Chiera Brothers onto the Perth episode of Action Bronson’s F*ck That’s Delicious (watch seasons 1 and 2 now on SBS On Demand)? It’s hard to say with any certainty, but this much is certain: the store and sandwich depicted by Bronson and co was fun, distinctly Perth and something the west can be proud of.
Fast-forward from the screen to a dining table in an empty restaurant. My buddy and I unwrap, cut and plate our sandwiches, swapping halves so we each get to try the others’. As I stare at the plate before me, it suddenly dawns on me that with the store clearly in shutdown mode, it’s possible that this roll might be a poor imitation of the original. It’s something I hadn’t thought about and I begin reaching out to the Old Gods And The New to help a brother out. I really, really want my final Di Chiera Brothers conti – or contis – to be a winner. It is. And while there’s no denying Di Chiera’s closure is sad news for many, not all is lost.
Tom Di Chiera with Action Bronson. Source: Jack Newton
Veterans like the Re Store continue to sling some of the city’s finest sandwiches while places like Kings Euro Foods and Northbridge pizzeria Comet Pizza are taking the continental roll ball and running with. And let’s not forget newcomers like Lulu La Delizia and Monstrella Pizzeria, restaurants that prove tradition and progress needn’t – and shouldn’t – be mutually exclusive in local Italian food circles. The Di Chiera name might be out of the spotlight – at least temporarily – but the state of Australian-Italian dining out west is in a good place.
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