Stay up to date with notifications from The Independent

Notifications can be managed in browser preferences.

Decline takes grip on cafe society that joined two cultures: Traditional businesses close as Italian immigrants feel chill in Welsh valleys

Peter Dunn
Sunday 20 March 1994 19:02 EST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

BRACCHIS, the little Italian cafes with their hot pies, steaming espresso machines, bottled sweets and home- made ice-cream, are going the same way as the chapels and pits in the ravaged valleys of South Wales.

One by one they are closing down, victims of economic decline and changing social attitudes.

Ten years ago, in the two valleys of the Rhondda, there were 60 Bracchis, the nickname given by miners to all Italian cafes after the pioneering Bracchi family opened the first one in the region a century ago.

Today, according to Dino Carpanini, one of the few surviving cafe padrones, there are barely 15.

The decline closes a chapter on a remarkable story of integration between two valley communities living 800 geographical, cultural and linguistic miles apart. In valleys like the Rhondda, there were mining families, stern Methodists, solid Labour; the incomers were from Valceno, a poor farming area of northern Italy centred on the town of Bardi. They were, and remain, devoutly Catholic and discreetly Tory.

In his study of the Bardigiani immigrants to South Wales - Lime, Lemon and Sarsaparilla - the author Colin Hughes says they were accepted because customers sat for hours in the little cafes and got to know the proprietors well. 'The Italians were seen as honest and friendly; their choice of trade posed no threat; their services were enjoyed. Their assimilation was, if not unique, at least unusual in its success.'

The Italian community, with its ice-cream hand barrows and cosy cafe parlours, escaped unscathed during the anti-Semitic riots of 1911 when mobs attacked Jewish- owned pawn shops in South Wales.

It even survived the wholesale internment or deportation of Italians during the Second World War. In one tragic incident, nearly 500 Welsh-Italian cafe owners, tobacconists and ice-cream vendors, perished when the Arandora Star, shipping them to exile in Canada, was torpedoed in the Atlantic in 1940.

Despite the disappearance of so many Bracchis, Mr Carpanini - who runs one of only two remaining Bracchis in Tonypandy (there were once seven) - is optimistic about the future of his own cafe, which still opens from 7am to 7pm each day, as his son, Anthony, 23, wants to take over in time. 'He's quite happy to do what his father and uncle did here before him, and that's a rare occurrence these days.'

Lime, Lemon and Sarsaparilla by Colin Hughes; Seren Books; pounds 6.95

(Photographs omitted)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in