The question of what mobsters ate has always fascinated people, and the answers often defy expectation. The most powerful men in organized crime were not always devoted to pasta and red sauce. Their preferences ranged from kosher pickles to Cracker Barrel, revealing surprisingly personal tastes. Al Capone, the most infamous gangster of the Prohibition era, favored a dish that few outside his circle would have associated with him: spaghetti with walnut sauce.
The dish was built on an oil and breadcrumb base, mixed with toasted nuts and a smattering of cheese. During his time hiding out in the Northwoods of Wisconsin, he developed a taste for stuffed Wisconsin pork roast, a dish packed with provolone, olives, mushrooms, and parmesan cheese. His drink of choice was a beer called Templeton Rye, and his preferred bar was the Green Mill Cocktail Lounge in the Chicago area, a venue that still exists under a different name. Capone’s contemporary and ally, Charles “Lucky” Luciano, had a favorite food that surprised even those who knew him well.
Despite being one of the most powerful Italian-American mobsters in the country, Luciano loved kosher green pickles. This taste likely developed through his close friendship with Jewish mob figures like Meyer Lansky and Bugsy Siegel. When Lansky and US Naval intelligence officials came to meet Luciano during World War II, bringing him food as a gesture of goodwill, he asked for kosher green pickles. At the time, Luciano was cooperating with the war effort from prison, helping secure the New York City docks against sabotage and assisting the Allied invasion of Sicily.
Meyer Lansky himself, often called the mob’s accountant, had his own favorite dish. He was known to frequent Ratner’s, a famous dairy restaurant on the Lower East Side of Manhattan that remained in operation for many years. There, Lansky ordered cheese blintzes, a sweet cheese mixture wrapped in a thin pancake and usually served with fruit. It was a simple, Jewish delicacy, and for Lansky, it was the meal of choice.
In New Orleans, Carlos Marcello ruled as the boss of the city’s criminal underworld. Marcello’s favorite meal was spaghetti and meatballs, though he also enjoyed oysters and shrimp fettuccine. Marcello is also remembered for something far more consequential than his dining habits: he confessed to being part of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.
Many people refuse to believe this confession, perhaps because the US government and the CIA would never want to admit that the mafia could reach a sitting president. Classified documents related to the assassination have repeatedly been withheld, despite expectations that they would be made public every 25 years. According to the account of a former mob insider who heard it directly from people in that life, the Kennedy assassination was definitely a mob hit, and Marcello had admitted to it. An interesting detail ties Marcello directly to Capone: his personal chef was a man named Provino Mosca, who had previously served as Capone’s personal chef.
Marcello hired Mosca the very day Capone was sentenced to prison for tax evasion. John Gotti, the flamboyant boss of the Gambino family, loved fine Italian dining and was known to frequent Rao’s, the famous New York steakhouse. But his true favorite was far more humble. Gotti loved Cracker Barrel.
His preferred meals there were chicken, biscuits, and chicken fried steak. He reportedly asked, “How much Italian food can you eat? ” It was a surprisingly down-to-earth preference for a man who cultivated an image of glamour and power. On the West Coast, Mickey Cohen, the Jewish gangster who dominated Los Angeles, had his own favorite restaurant.
He regularly visited Cole’s in Los Angeles, where he ordered the French dip sandwich. The restaurant, which specialized in this classic dish, was a staple of his routine. Henry Hill, the mob associate whose story became famous through the film Goodfellas, had a favorite dish that was simple and comforting: chicken soup. It was a modest choice for a man whose life was filled with crime, violence, and witness protection.
Raymond Patriarca, the boss of New England organized crime, ate on Federal Hill in Providence, Rhode Island, the city’s historic Italian district. His favorite restaurant was called Adesso, and his preferred dish was creste di gallo pasta, served with a sauce made from veal stock, grilled chicken, sausage, and both fresh and sundried tomatoes. Sonny Franzese, a longtime underboss of the Colombo family and father of the man telling this story, was a big eater. His favorite dish was fettuccine with a filetto di pomodoro sauce, a simple tomato sauce that was often paired with penne.
Franzese remembered that this sauce became a staple in his house starting in the 1970s, when it first began appearing on the market. He noted that the best tomatoes for the sauce are Mutti brand tomatoes, which he insisted were the sweetest and most delicious available. For the younger Franzese, who grew up in Brooklyn, meals at home were mostly Italian, and when the family went out, it was almost always Italian or Chinese food. His father would urge them to go out for Chinese, and the family enjoyed many homestyle restaurants in Brooklyn and across the city.
Mexican food was entirely absent from his early life; he had never eaten it until he married a Mexican woman, who introduced him to the cuisine. He came to love carnitas, the slow-cooked pork dish, and menudo, a tripe stew. Tripe itself was familiar to him, as his grandfather used to prepare it at home in a red sauce. He also loved simple cheese quesadillas.
The culinary world of the mafia was not about lavish feasts alone. It was a world of personal taste, shaped by geography, family, and friendship. A New York boss might crave a kosher pickle at a Jewish deli, while a Chicago gangster developed a taste for stuffed pork in the Wisconsin woods. A Gambino boss could be happiest at a Southern chain restaurant, and a New Orleans godfather ate meatballs made by a chef he inherited from Al Capone.
These men built empires through violence and influence, but at the table, they were often as simple as anyone else.