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CALLED HER Mrs. Bombara.
She called him Mr. Bombara.

the way it was at Bombara’s Ristorante Italiano in the late 60s in
Las Vegas.

restaurant was at the end of East Charleston Boulevard. The road has since
been extended farther and the neighborhood has built up quite a bit. But, back
then it was an isolated desert area a mile or two past the edge of town and
you had to really crave Italian cooking to venture that far.

the casinos in those days thought a gourmet restaurant was a fancy steak house
and that Italian food meant spaghetti and meatballs, I was hard pressed to
satisfy my palate when I came to town.

one day a pit boss told me about Bombara’s.

wasn’t your typical Italian restaurant. Mr. Bombara was a character and he
had a lot of rules. First and foremost, you had to have a reservation to eat
in his restaurant. Without one, you would not be admitted ”” even if there
were no ­­other ­­patrons. And, no matter how well he knew you, he ­­always
made a show of getting his reservation book and looking for your name.

often made the mistake of asking for a menu. Mr. Bombara had one and would
gladly give it to his customers, but it had nothing to do with what was being

he had a little fun by allowing the patrons to inquire about various items on
the menu and telling them a story about why each one wasn’t available that

some point, he would explain that the Bombara’s went to the market daily and
shopped for that evening’s menu. It was as close to eating at home as you
could get.

you inquired about what was being served that night, Mr. Bombara would call
Mrs. Bombara from the kitchen. He would introduce her to you, and proceed to
make a great show of talking to her and relaying to you what had been

Bombara was painfully shy. She would politely say hello to diners, but then
confined the rest of her conversation to Mr. Bombara. It was easy to see she
couldn’t wait to get back to the security of her kitchen.

shyness, however, did not affect her cooking. It was fabulous! If I closed my
eyes it wasn’t hard to imagine that I was back in my grandmother’s kitchen
in Manayunk, Pa.

as much as Mrs. Bombara loved cooking, Mr. Bombara loved story telling. He
would entertain customers with stories of the early days and all the
celebrities that came to the restaurant. He was very proud of the fact that he
did not bend his rules for these important people. They needed a reservation
just like anyone else.

of his favorites was the time Frank Sinatra wanted to pay him a lot of
money to close the restaurant so he could have a private dinner. Mr. Bombara
was adamant. Mr. Sinatra was very welcome to make a reservation to come and
dine, but the restaurant would remain open. Mr. Bombara would not insult his
good friends by closing his doors at the whim of Mr. Sinatra.

help with the story telling and while waiting for Mrs. Bombara to serve
dinner, Mr. Bombara often suggested a bottle of wine. There was white and
there was red. No fancy labels here.

course, it would be insulting to your host if you didn’t invite him to have
a glass with you. If you didn’t know that, Mr. Bombara found a way to
tactfully clue you in.

so it went for the Bombara’s for many years. The restaurant was their home,
which they shared with their customers, their good friends. You could taste
the love in the cooking and it was easy to see the warmth and admiration they
felt for each other.

Mr. Bombara passed away a number of years ago, Mrs. Bombara tried to keep the
restaurant going. But, it wasn’t the same. Sadly, Bombara’s Ristorante
Italiano was closed.

Bombara retired and eventually moved to Reseda, Calif., where she lived in a
home for seniors and shared a room with her sister, Sadie Margolin.

Tuesday, Mrs. Bombara passed on. She was 95.

addition to her sister, she left behind three sons, Carlo of Arizona; Guiseppe
of North Las Vegas; and Mario of Las Vegas. Also, 26 grandchildren,
nine great grandchildren, three great-great grandchildren and a legion of
friends who loved her cooking.

while Bombara’s Ristorante Italiano no longer exists on East Charleston, of
one thing I’m certain. Mrs. Bombara called ahead for a reservation and Mr.
Bombara was waiting at the door to greet her.

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