Sydney’s Little Italy Is Losing Its Accent – But Does It Matter?

“You won’t find an Italian mamma in a Leichhardt restaurant kitchen anymore,” Con Damouras of Bar Italia tells Broadsheet. He’s reflecting on how the suburb he grew up in has changed.

Damouras remembers a different Leichhardt, where Italian-run delis, fruit shops and restaurants ruled, and where, as a kid, he frequented Bar Italia. When the Norton Street institution came up for auction in 2014, he partnered with his brother-in-law Marcello Menga and mate Maurice Kostopoulos to buy the business. They added pizzas to the phonebook-sized pasta and panini menu, but not much else has changed: full-fat is still the only milk available for cappuccinos, Menga handmakes the gelato, and it’s strictly cash-only.

The nostalgic quality that’s made Bar Italia an icon is increasingly rare in Leichhardt. And even though the Inner West Council officially designated the precinct around Marion and Norton streets Little Italy in 2021, the change is undeniable.

Sometimes the changing demographics of a place are easy to miss. It happens slowly: elderly residents downsize or pass away; young families move in. But for a suburb so steeped in Italian history, the shift can be striking. During the 20th century, especially after World War II, Italians from Venice to Sicily migrated to Australia by the hundreds of thousands, making their home in inner-city suburbs like Leichhardt. The 2011 census revealed only three per cent of locals spoke Italian at home. In 2021, that had dropped to 2.1 per cent. The number of Italian-born residents had also declined.

Michele Rispoli’s Capriccio Osteria is next to a new Korean barbeque; across the road is a restaurant selling outstanding pho. “It’s not just Leichhardt,” Rispoli says. “In Melbourne, in New York, Little Italys all over the world are disappearing.”

Preserving the heritage of a place doesn’t mean there’s no room for anything new. Leichhardt has a record store; a small bar selling yuzu-fuelled cocktails; a Japanese convenience store; and a Mexican pop-up known for al pastor spooned into torn-open bags of Doritos.

Charlie Pignataro of Il Cugino Pizzeria reckons there are half a dozen Italian-run businesses left, and he’s not worried about it. “I’m a Leichhardt boy, I grew up here, running the restaurant with Mum and Dad. I think the diversity is good for the locals – they have more choice. I like it too; if I feel like Thai, I don’t have to leave the area to get it.”

Once the rule, Il Cugino is now the exception: matriarch Adriana Pignataro, now a nonna, still stands behind the counter making coffee with deeply golden crema and chatting with customers, just as she’s done since 1988. Before that, the family ran Il Giardinetto in Darlinghurst.

“The best have stayed,” Pignataro says, with affection rather than bravado.

Another statistic tells a different story. Between 2011 and 2021, the number of people with Italian ancestry went up, from 4.7 to 6.9 per cent. It’s a small increase, but after decades of decline, it seems some Italian Australians are returning to the place where their ancestors settled.

Rispoli – who just bought Aperitivo Pizza & Pasta, another Norton Street institution just two doors down from Capriccio – is hoping for Leichhardt’s Italian renaissance. He’s partnered with other local business owners to spearhead Viva Leichhardt, a group that promotes cultural events and lobbies to council.

In mid-2024, the group was part of the NSW Government’s Office of the 24-Hour Economy Commissioner’s Uptown District Acceleration Program, which works to “empower independent business collectives across Greater Sydney to collaborate and create vibrant going-out districts”. Leichhardt was one of 32 districts that received between $100,000 and $200,000 in funding.

“Leichhardt is the historic home of Italians in Sydney,” Viva Leichhardt’s district coordinator Susanna Montrone says. “We’re planning to have more events in Leichhardt. We’ve got some plans in the works that we can’t talk about yet, but we’re planning to bring more music, vibrancy and life to the streets of Leichhardt.”

“You don’t have to be Italian to open an Italian restaurant,” Rispoli says. “My partner and head chef is Aussie. You just have to be a lover of Italian food and culture.”

Pignataro runs one of the last family-owned Italian restaurants on the high street – and he’s not caught up in the area being Italian-owned either. “Change is just the way it is. Italians sell their restaurants, new people buy. One day I’ll sell. It doesn’t have to be to an Italian.”

Rispoli is optimistic. “I think Leichhardt is going to have a comeback.” For him, that starts with celebrating Italian culture. “Italians are noisy. We are a crazy people in a way. In Italy you hear music in the street, motorbikes beeping, people having coffee at tables on the footpath. I understand for the council it’s a problem with regulation – you can’t have too many tables. But I think they should let people be Italian, let them make noise, let there be tables everywhere.”