Opening a sandwich shop may not sound groundbreaking. But doing it in the heart of Manhattan, inside a landmark like Grand Central Terminal, while keeping the menu unchanged for years? That’s a statement. At 125 Park Avenue, All’Antico Vinaio has launched its latest outpost, offering the same schiacciata bread, the same bold fillings, and the same effortless Italian charm that has made it a global sensation.
The concept remains simple: a crisp, golden slab of Tuscan bread packed with layers of rich prosciutto, creamy pecorino, and perhaps a touch of truffle spread. The flavors are bold, the portions generous. Subtlety is not the goal. This marks the fourth New York City location for All’Antico Vinaio, a brand that has rapidly expanded in a city where restaurant survival is notoriously tough. But this isn’t a gamble. It’s a formula. The lines have already started forming. Orders are being shouted over the counter. Sandwiches are being carefully positioned under the perfect lighting for Instagram-worthy snapshots.
Tommaso “Tommy” Mazzanti, the 36-year-old Florentine driving the brand’s expansion, has a clear recipe for success: “Quality ingredients. Fair prices. Friendly staff”. It’s not the reinvention of the wheel. It’s a finely tuned, exportable version of the Italy Americans dream about. “When we started five years ago with Joe and Tanya (Joe Bastianich and his sister Tanya Bastianich Manuali, partners in the American All’Antico Vinaio project), the first question wasn’t “Where should we open?” or “Who should we hire?”. It was: “How do we bring the real schiacciata to New York?”. The answer came by bringing my baker here for two months, to work alongside our general manager Zack, training every single person. Because the schiacciata is the heart of everything!”.
That’s the genius of All’Antico Vinaio. In an era obsessed with “authenticity”, the brand delivers an experience that feels even more Italian than Italy itself. Not because it’s rustic or artisanal or defiant of change, but because it mirrors the Italy people want to remember—or imagine they know. Schiacciata, not ciabatta. A little controlled chaos behind the counter. Sandwiches big enough to share, but too good to actually split.
From Florence to Milan, then across the Atlantic to Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and New York, the expansion shows no signs of slowing down. Next stops? Nashville. Another Vegas outpost. Two more in LA. The logistical challenges are real—importing ingredients, navigating U.S. food regulations—but the demand justifies the effort. “We’ve never compromised on quality”, Mazzanti insists. And maybe that’s true. But in today’s culinary landscape, quality alone isn’t enough. The story matters just as much. And this one? It’s compelling, it’s digestible, and it comes wrapped in brown paper, dripping with stracchino.
