November 20, 2022
By Amy Larsen
Wyo4News Writer
Okay, so to clarify up front, I didn’t actually walk into a family’s actual home, though it sure felt that way. It all started a few weeks ago when I made a Facebook post asking if any of my friends had any suggestions for places to eat in Reno. He wanted something that wasn’t a buffet or a casino. Basically, he was looking for something local.
A friend had posted that there was an Italian restaurant that a lot of locals went to and if I wanted to go, I would need reservations. The name of the restaurant was Casale’s Halfway Club. I was a little skeptical at first because I wasn’t sure I wanted fancy Italian dining, but I decided to google the place anyway. After all, I had asked for suggestions, so the least I could do was follow up on what my friends took the time to post.
Let me start by saying that this is not your ordinary Italian restaurant. This is the oldest restaurant in Reno, having opened in 1937! When Elvira Casale immigrated from Genoa, Italy, to marry John, whom she only knew through letters they had written to each other, she traveled with her press for ravioli, rolls, and family recipes. Eventually, to help her struggling young family, Ella Elvira opened a fruit stand outside the family home on HWY 40 and did what she did best: make ravioli and then sell it.
As word spread about how good the ravioli was and demand grew, they ended up turning their front of house into a small market. Then, in the 1940s, they turned their entire house into a restaurant specializing in Northern Italian cuisine. Four generations later, they still use the same ravioli press, rolls, and recipes.
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Diners eat around the original table on which Elvira rolled her ravioli. There is nothing elegant or incredibly luxurious about Casale’s. They only accept cash, have capacity for 40 people and everything is homemade. Warning, sometimes it is a long wait for food. However, when we left three hours later with a stomach full of not only food but also laughter. We all agreed that it was indeed one of the best dining experiences we’ve ever had.
The exterior of the restaurant is very plain; it actually looks like a building on one of the great old American highways. When we walked in our table was still not ready because it was still occupied by a group celebrating a birthday. They were in no hurry to leave, nor were the staff eager to speed them up.
We were encouraged to have a drink in the bar, where the market counter had originally stood and was the family’s former living room. There was a gentleman behind the bar in a red shirt, and I joked with him that I had heard he was the best bartender in the area. He laughed and told me that his specialty was ice water!
Eventually our server appeared behind the bar and made us some drinks, and the guy went off to serve soup and salads to a table. When our table was finally ready the guy behind the bar took care of us and helped us get situated.
Since I knew it was a family business, I asked him if he was part of the family. He laughed and said, “No, I deliver the garlic bread.” I laughed too, thinking he was being funny. No, he legitimately worked for a local bakery that supplied them with garlic bread. Back in the 1990s when it started, Casale’s was on his route. On Saturdays, after finishing his route, he would go into the bar and finish the paperwork for the day. Mama Inez, who was the second generation owner, would serve him a meatball sandwich and then give him a couple of beers to take to the bakery for the boys. He became part of the family. That was a subject we learned quickly and as with any family, when they need help everyone pitches in, hence why he entertained us with stories and garlic bread that night. He joked with me that the best seat in the house was actually the bar because that’s where you actually learn what to order, which I found funny since there’s really only lasagna, spaghetti, meatballs, pizza, and ravioli on the menu. Unfortunately, that day, they ran out of ravioli.
At the end of the night, Maria, who is the fourth generation to run the restaurant, shared family stories with all of us. We also met the fifth and sixth generation, who we hope will carry on the tradition. Since I had no idea what a ravioli press was, they took me back to the room where they are made, showed me the original press and explained how they are still made, just as they were done back in 1937.
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I saw the homemade lasagna noodles, the pots that had been used to make the sauce, and the youngest member of the family, maybe two years old, playing with the dough as if it were a normal toy, banging the guests’ fists and giving us all smiles. It wasn’t really a restaurant but someone’s home, and they were excited to share their family with anyone who walked through the door.
When I got back to my room after our three hour dinner, my mind was going crazy with all the stories they had shared, the experience we had, and honestly how I was going to share the experience in this column.
I kept thinking about the delivery man who showed up because they needed help that night, the great-nephew who had to come over to make the pizzas, and even the daughter-in-law, who had already made ravioli twice that day but was back to make more. By the way, I was able to try one before I left.
I realized there was no way she could effectively share her story, there were too many to tell, too much history, too much love, and too many family members. Then I realized that that was the story. In the 85 years they’ve been in business, they’ve stayed true to who they are, built a community, and created countless stories and memories. They haven’t expanded outside of the original house, franchised, and haven’t even modernized their kitchen. In the midst of a constantly changing world, they have remembered that at the center of everything, the most important thing is family and traditions, and there is no reason to change who they are!
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