The Settepani family saga continues in New York, spreading Italian culinary and pastry culture through three venues, led by the second generation of Seyoum, the general manager, and Bilena, an innovative pastry chef committed to social causes.
The story
Bilena Settepani wasn't even born yet when her parents, Nino and Leah, the former Sicilian and the latter Ethiopian-Eritrean, laid the foundation stone for what is now an Italian-American institution: Settepani Bakery in Brooklyn, a place dedicated to promoting the national baking art. "Nomen omen," one might say. And indeed, they never stopped: while commuting to work along a street in Harlem, when the neighborhood was still synonymous with decay, they fell in love with it to the extent that they decided to venture into it. The buildings were beautiful and spacious, the rents cheap. Yet Leah wondered, where will those who live here go for a coffee? In fact, it was a desert, and not by chance.
As a pioneer of redevelopment, she found herself facing a gun or a broken shop window several times. Nino asked her why persist when they already had success elsewhere, and she prophetically replied, "Because it's beautiful here, and one day it will become spectacular. It all starts with coffee in the morning." Today, they've made it: theirs is a restaurant with all the trimmings, a showcase of sweets, and a pleasant European atmosphere on the sidewalk, while around them, thanks to their example and encouragement, various venues have opened up.
The bakery and the restaurant are still going strong: they are respectively 31 and 25 years old. But in the meantime, she arrived: the creative Bilena, born 28 years ago in Manhattan. Her name in Ethiopian means the ‘pupil of the eye’, as well as a tribe of extraordinarily elegant women, but her Italian relatives wanted to Italianize it with the classic final "a" to make it more familiar. As a pastry chef, she also dabbled in fashion before returning to the family business during the pandemic and honing her skills at the Institute of Culinary Education.
"Since I was little, I remember lending a hand whenever needed. My mom always says she married my dad for the sweets, which don't exist in Ethiopia, except for some Italian legacies like millefoglie. And indeed, ours is a traditional Italian pastry shop, so now we're making chiacchiere and sfinci for Saint Joseph's Day, not to mention cannoli and cookies.
We were among the first to offer artisanal panettone in New York: at first, my parents bought and resold it, then customers started asking for our own, and my father took it upon himself, baking artisanal panettone and colomba cakes. Personally, I felt it was right to try to attract a different clientele, one looking for Italian memories. So, I wanted to offer new flavors of panettone, one per month, to break away from seasonal production: now it's time for red velvet, which is very popular among the African American community."
Bilena's innovations have not only been rewarded by customers but also by Iginio Massari, who last year at Host consecrated her among the best pastry chefs internationally. The foundation of her desserts is always Italian, then it's about playing with taste, 360 degrees. And these products can be shipped throughout the United States, where it would be difficult to find artisanal panettone, available since last December also inside the Time Out Market in the iconic Dumbo neighborhood, right under the Brooklyn Bridge.
However, Bilena's eye hasn't just delved into the intricacies and layers of pastries: like her parents, she has looked all around. "My parents have always sought local partners and have gladly worked with schools to become rooted in the communities. Three months ago, Massimo Bottura's Refettorio arrived here, and we immediately got involved, actively participating in the project. When something is needed, we lend a hand, cooking with other chefs as well.
Two evenings a week, anyone can come by and feel at home, receiving a free three-course meal, regardless of their income, condition, nationality: we'll take care of it once a month, enthusiastically. The church hosting the dining hall, which benefits from a large semi-professional kitchen, is just around the corner. And when I go out to walk the dog, I often hear people talking about all the good it does." But the refectory doesn't end at the table: the idea is to reintegrate people into the community in socially active roles. "I've already been asked to teach in some small courses: it could be a way to help people embark on a new training path, who knows."
