Leopoldo "Tony" Mirarchi, 87, businessman, gardener and cook
He made everything from scratch and insisted that all visitors partook of his culinary offerings.
WHEN YOU arrived at Tony Mirarchi's South Philadelphia home, you had to eat.
Tony and his wife, Maria Elisa, insisted, and out of the refrigerator would come the homemade Italian cold cuts, soppressata and capicola, followed by Italian bread and a variety of cheeses.
And, of course, homemade wine.
Tony made the soppressata and capicola and the wine, and if you were really lucky, you might have gotten to sit down for a spaghetti meal, featuring Tony's secret gravy recipe, with tomatoes, peppers, onions and spices from his opulent garden.
That garden was a neighborhood legend, and friends, family, neighbors and even total strangers partook of its bounty.
Leopoldo "Tony" Mirarchi, 87, who brought his traditions, recipes and culture from his native Italy, a businessman who owned grocery stores and bars, and a devoted family man, died suddenly in his sleep June 12. He was living in Springfield, Delaware County, but had lived in South Philadelphia since arriving in the U.S. from Italy as a young man.
He was born in Isca Sullo Ionio in the province of Catanzaro on the coast of Southern Italy. It was there that he married his sweetheart, Maria Elisa Varano, and where he swam with sharks.
Tony was full of stories of his youth, some of them even true, like swimming in the ocean with sharks, diving from a 100-foot cliff. Other stories, like the time he hugged a tree and pulled it out of the ground were, well, a bit fantastic, although he was very strong.
"We listened to his stories with great delight," said his daughter Caterina Ramoni. "We believed him."
Tony and his bride came to the U.S. and settled in South Philadelphia, where Tony, starting with very little capital, acquired several grocery stores and bars, mostly in South Philadelphia.
His last store, Tony's Market at Darien and Johnston streets, was sold in the late '90s when he retired.
"He had a strong work ethic," his daughter said. "He was always in business. He didn't like answering to anyone. He did things his way."
Tony was always generous, maybe to a fault. If a customer couldn't pay, he'd jot down the debt in a ledger, but rarely made much effort to collect.
"He was good to everybody," his daughter said.
Tony's garden at his home on Bigler Street was as wonderful as his stories. It featured 10-foot fig trees, 2-foot-long cucumbers and zucchini, 2-pound tomatoes, which went into the pot to make his spaghetti gravy. And, of course, grapes for his wine.
"We wondered what he put in the soil to make things grow like that," Caterina said. "He was so proud of that garden."
Tony had a friendly rivalry with his next-door neighbor, Ed Tenuto, a second-generation Italian-American, over who could make the best wine. Their competition was described in a Daily News story in 1990 by Maria Gallagher.
"The process does much more than merely turn grape juice into something with a kick," Maria wrote. "It strengthens the bond of friendship among these men. It preserves an Italian family tradition in the New World."
After moving to Springfield, Tony and his family became devoted members of St. Francis of Assisi Church.
Besides his wife and daughter, he is survived by another daughter, Concetta "Tina" Mirarchi; granddaughter Christa Ramoni; and two grandsons, Michael and Steven Ramoni.
Services: Private services and interment were held on June 17.