I don’t mean to sound hysterical, but I’ve just eaten one of the finest continental rolls of my life. What made this roll so good, you ask? That’s a good question.
Maybe it was the dense, porky pleasures of ham, salami, lush mortadella and coppa carefully layered atop one another. Maybe it was the gratifying crunch of the elongated torpedo of golden house-baked bread. Maybe it was the alluring zip and olive oil richness of the Italian pickled eggplant known as melanzane that both brightened and lubricated my lunch.
Opened in 1957, Di Chiera Brothers has long been a beacon for the Italian community and has long carried pasta, olive oil, cheese and other hard-to-find European goods.Credit: Max Veenhuyzen
Or maybe it’s because the said conti was from Di Chiera Brothers: a neighbourhood deli that many credit with establishing and popularising the west’s favourite Australian-Italian sandwich. Or at least Di Chiera did until its shock closure in March 2017. Finally, after laying dormant for almost eight years, Di Chiera is back and quietly reopened in December to the delight of North Perth locals and sandwich hunters across Perth.
Opened by Giuseppe and Antonio Di Chiera in 1957, the shop – along with the family’s original shop on William Street – has long been a beacon for the Italian community and carried pasta, olive oil, cheese and other (at the time) hard-to-find European goods. While Italianate products are a little more commonplace nowadays, Di Chiera’s shelves, fridges and display cabinets still stock local produce, dried pasta, local and imported smallgoods and other drinks and foodstuffs that chime with Old Country living.
But as heart-warming as it is to see another independent grocer and corner store enter the fray, let’s be honest: most people coming to Di Chiera aren’t here (just) to shop. They’re chasing a conti fix, stat. It was a detail that current custodian Tom Di Chiera latched onto and, prior to the store’s closure, retooled the business to reflect this new focus. Chief among these changes was expanding the menu to include other rolls freighting porchetta, chicken schnitzel and – in a nod to the family’s Calabrian roots – hot Italian sausage teamed with sauteed broccoli rabe.
Credit: Max Veenhuyzen
“We’re a McDonald’s,” jokes Tom who took over the shop from his father Antonio and mother Eleonora in 1991. “Just a better-quality McDonald’s.”
Why was the shop mothballed for so long? Tom chalks up Di Chiera’s extended hiatus to calamities of a personal, professional and pandemic-related nature. There were also issues surrounding capital that required Tom to buy, repair and resell cars to raise the money to reopen (which perhaps explains the shiny cream-hued Kinchrome tool chest prominently displayed in the shop). Other new additions to the space include a blown-up poster of one of the original dockets from the family’s William Street store, plus shelving made using the shop’s original wooden doors before the space was renovated in 1969. On the way in, you’ll probably clock some signage spruiking Illy, the shop’s new coffee bean of choice.
But despite these changes, Di Chiera still remains a glorious portal to a bygone era. Mementos from the past are strewn throughout the space. (I spy with my little eye, the shop’s original sink.) A recent admission to the nonagenarian club, Eleonora Di Chiera still maintains a presence in the shop, whether it’s greeting longtime regulars or helping clear tables in the small indoor dining area.