If you sit down with Joe Busalacchi for more than a minute, chances are he will offer you food. Make it 15 minutes, and you might be invited to stay for lunch, have a snack or a beverage. Or at least leave with takeout.
Feeding people con gusto is what Busalacchi, 67, has been doing since at least 1986, when he opened Busalacchi’s on Fifth, a white tablecloth Italian bistro where Hillcrest meets Banker’s Hill, and the first of 14 restaurants he and his family would go on to own and operate in San Diego.
Forty years later, Busalacchi Restaurants has that and several other things on its menu of accomplishments. One is operating those restaurants through the global financial recession and the pandemic. Another is livening up India Street, starting in 1995. The family’s restaurants, along with others that came before and after, made the sleepy harbor-adjacent neighborhood into the must-visit culinary and cultural corridor it is today, one bowl of bolognese at time. But maybe the crowning achievement for Busalacchi: doing all that while raising three boys who have joined the business as the next generation.
Today there are more than 80 restaurants, cafes and bars in Little Italy, according to the neighborhood’s business association. Busalacchi’s restaurants helped paved the way. India Street and avenues nearby had venerated businesses — Mona Lisa Italian Foods, The Waterfront Bar & Grill, Filippi’s Pizza Grotto, Assenti’s Pasta, and others — but the arrival of Busalacchi’s Trattoria Fantastic was a turning point. Restaurant upon restaurant opened after that.
The interior of Barbusa, one of the restaurants owned by the Busalacchi family. (Kristian Carreon / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
To celebrate this journey, the business is hosting a milestone marking fundraiser Sunday with tickets starting at $350, with all proceeds going to two nonprofits: The Positive Movement Foundation and Convivio. The city is also declaring Sunday “Busalacchi Family Day” to recognize the family’s contributions.
The company, which employs around 200, isn’t just looking back. It is currently eyeing an expansion outside San Diego. Encinitas has been explored, as are Newport Beach and Las Vegas.
“There’s opportunities for us to open up multiple Barbusa concepts,” said its general manager, PJ Busalacchi. “We’re young, we’re still hungry. I think it’s to a point where the newer generation is ready to take that leap. We’ve established that we know what we’re doing, and we’re ready to continue moving forward and building this legacy.”
Old school
Joe Busalacchi recently sat down at Barbusa, which, at 10 years old, is one of the group’s newer restaurants, to talk history.
As for what’s next? That is a question for PJ Busalacchi, who, along with managing the business, is one of Busalacchi’s three sons.
“When I started, it was really hard,” Joe Busalacchi began. He sketched a story that is, in ways, archetypal: child immigrant, hard work, determination, a dream. “I worked my little tail off to get where I am today. It’s been a while. It’s been a lot of hard work.”
One detail that is wholly his family’s: the food. Sicilian. Lots of it. His mother would send him to school as an 8-year-old boy with a giant submarine stuffed with eggplant, tuna and other meaty fillings. She’d also toss a handful of bananas into the grocery bag that served as his lunch tote. Other kids got half a bologna sandwich in a little Batman lunchbox. Joe got enough tuna to feed a soccer team.
“My mom thought I was going away for a year, you know? I was just going to school!” he joked.
A plaque on Barbusa’s outer wall honors his parents, who “worked hard to instill tradition and work ethic in their children, which is very evident throughout Little Italy today. Pietro could be seen checking on each family restaurant every day, and Cristina often gave recipe advice when needed.”
A plaque outside a restaurant owned by the Busalacchi family talks about the first generation immigrants who settled in San Diego in 1966. (Roxana Popescu / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
Busalacchi picked up that work ethic and kitchen know-how, and in the mid-1980s, when he was not yet 30, he shifted from cooking staff meals aboard a commercial tuna boat to opening his first restaurant.
“I started out with one stove, my wife working in the front. We had two waiters, one dishwasher and one helper. We ended up with three stoves, nine waiters and five busboys. So we did a very good volume there,” he told The San Diego Union-Tribune in 2011. (He and his wife, Lisa Busalacchi, have since divorced.)
Joe’s brother, Frank Busalacchi, joined the business and they opened one restaurant after another, expanding into Little Italy. Trattoria Fantastica came in 1995, after nudges from investors and fans who told him to keep growing.
Joe Busalacchi Sr. (right) and his brother Frank Busalacchi pose at Barbusa in Little Italy. The company is celebrating a 40 year anniversary. (Kristian Carreon / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
“I feel like when you’re hot, you should strike, and I was hot. Everything seemed to be going my way,” he said in 2011.
Barbusa and Lala came later, while others — including Po Pazzo, Busalacchi’s on Fifth and Busalacchi’s A Modo Mio, one block north — have come and gone, some evolving into new concepts and some shuttering.
All along the way, the Busalacchi family took business risks while staying close to their roots: Sicilian cuisine, from quaint (Nonna+Zucchero) to contemporary (Barbusa).
“The Busalacchis are really good at changing things up and keeping things fresh,” said Kevin Massery, a longtime customer, business associate and family friend. His current favorite meal: Barbusa’s sea bass with “really good” sauce and crisp broccolini.
“Joe is definitely a cultural icon in San Diego,” he said. “He founded Little Italy, pretty much. Thirty years ago, Little Italy wasn’t much. Now it’s transitioned into one of the hottest markets in the country, if not the world. The real estate has gone crazy, and (San Diego’s) Little Italy, compared to other Italian cultural centers and cultural neighborhoods … has really grown to be one of the better Italian centers.”
“I feel like I’m part of the family,” Massery added.
Over the years, the restaurants have also welcomed Tommy Lasorda, Jane Seymour, Henry Mancini — legends from a different era.
Looking back on it all — he brought up visits from food critics, news coverage, the pressure and exhilaration and intensity of his career — Busalacchi was moved.
“It just puts tears in my eyes, seeing a little boy who came to America, who didn’t speak English, only had a high school education. And getting that far is pretty impressive. And I didn’t know that. And I’m tearing up right now,” he said. “It’s just,” he paused. “What you want in life. Nothing is going to come your way. You gotta make your way. I think it’s impressive to me now. It wasn’t impressive to me then.”
Busalacchi also joked that seeing his sons and nephews working on the business makes him feel “a little old.” That word surfaced again when he talked about the virtues of tradition, attentive service.
“I come from old school,” he said. “Things are a little bit different today. … We were closer to our customers. Customers were there to dine for an hour or two. Now it’s a little more of the drinking, more of the younger crowd.”
About his own younger crowd. For years, Busalacchi didn’t want his kids to enter the restaurant business, because the long hours make it hard to raise a family.
“You don’t get to see your children. You’re working on Friday, you’re working Saturdays, you’re working on Monday, Tuesday. It’s pretty much seven days a week, just trying to see what’s going on in the restaurant so that it’s working correctly, and the food is coming out good, and that’s what’s going to bring people back.
“My kids missed out on a lot, because I worked a lot,” he added. “But I think they understand now. PJ was going to be a lawyer. My son Joey was going to be a surgeon. Michael was going to be in Hollywood.” But they told their father: “We were born with the restaurant business. We’re coming to help you out,” Busalacchi said.
‘What we know best’
As his father was talking, PJ Busalacchi, 36, was working from his laptop and cell phone a few tables away. He paused for a quick photo shoot with his father, brother Joey and Uncle Frank, then got back to business. Also involved are his brother Michael, Uncle Vince, and cousins Vince and Nino.
In recent weeks, PJ Busalacchi slowed down for two interviews about growing up in the business and where the new generation is taking the restaurants.
Executive chef Nino Zizzo poses at Barbusa in Little Italy. The restaurant is 10 years old, and one of several celebrating the company’s 40th anniversary. (Kristian Carreon / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
He sounded like his father when he talked about joining the business. “My parents never wanted any of us to be in the restaurant business. They know how difficult it is,” he said. “I actually took my LSAT.” But the pull was too strong. “The restaurant business has been around my life for my entire life, and it’s too far into my blood to really go another way. I think all of us have really come back and do what we know best.”
The story of Busalacchi’s restaurants can’t be untangled from the story of Little Italy — or the story of his life, he continued. He was born in 1989, three years after Busalacchi’s on Fifth opened. He remembers seeing his dad and mom stroll through that dining room, greeting diners. He has internalized that, and other things his parents taught him.
“It really takes 24 hours, seven days a week of your time and energy of cultivating these relationships. Because one thing is for sure. People may come back and give you a second try if the food wasn’t good, but they’re definitely not going to give you a second try if the service was bad. So for us, it’s really (to) make sure that our guests are always taken care of,” Busalacchi said.
From his mother, he learned about the partnership required for a successful family business. While his dad worked at the restaurants, his mother worked for their family.
“She was at home, taking care of us, making sure we got to school, to appointments, to sports and all those things. It takes a village to run restaurants, and the village was held down by both my parents,” PJ Busalacchi said.
Two tough times at the business came to mind for PJ: the 2008 recession, when 4% of the nation’s restaurants closed. At the time, he was a teenager. He remembers seeing his dad work as hard as ever. He took away that dealing with economic swings is “part of the business, and what it takes to run and own a business.”
Also in 2011, Joe Busalacchi described his strategy for staying afloat in that period. Not overspending profits from previous years, watching costs. They redid menus, took out certain cuts of meat, let some staff go. They also lowered prices and margins on wine. “You gotta do what you gotta do in this tough economy,” he said then.
The pandemic was another challenge. Hardest, PJ Busalacchi said, weren’t the mandated closings, but “watching our employees struggle and doing what we can to make sure that our employees lasted through this terrible pandemic. We sent our employees home with food when we closed the first time.”
They emptied all the kitchens, inviting people to take home “pasta, produce, anything that they could get their hands on.”
A high, for PJ Busalacchi, hasn’t been a moment, but a feeling. “Maybe this word is too cliche, but I think the first thing that comes to mind is family. Not only is it a family that is running these restaurants, but it’s our employees who we think of as family, and our guests who come in these doors,” he said.
New beat
What’s it like being part of a big family business? Is Christmas dinner ever tense if you’re mixing work and family?
“Working with family is tough. Working with an Italian family is even tougher at times,” PJ Busalacchi said and chuckled, “because of everyone’s strong opinions and personalities. But that’s the beauty of it all. We can have our differences about the business and the next day move along, because we have the same goals in mind.”
When Barbusa opened its doors, one difference showed up in the music, PJ Busalacchi said. The patriarch asked: “What sort of music are you guys thinking about playing?” Sinatra and Martin, he urged.
“I’m like, ‘No, Dad, no,’” PJ Busalacchi pushed back. His idea: tropical house music. And loud.
“We sort of stuck to our guns,” the younger Busalacchi said, “and continue to play it.” It was risky, catering to different tastes, but the restaurant became a “trendy and cool” place that still feels cozy and familiar. The music set the vibe.
Rigatoni salsiccia being prepared at Barbusa in Little Italy. (Kristian Carreon / The San Diego Union-Tribune)
Joe Busalacchi has minimized his involvement in day-to-day operations but stays on as mentor-uncle-dad. And CEO.
“I embedded that in my children: that to be in the restaurant business, it’s important to be here. On site. And to make sure that people are getting the service and the attention,” he said.
He shared three cooking lessons his mother taught him. Taste as you go. Buy good ingredients. Be patient.
“Nothing gets done fast,” he said.
PJ Busalacchi, his brothers and cousins have kids who range in age from 1 to 18. He said they parent differently. While Joe Busalacchi said his kids “missed out on a lot,” PJ Busalacchi is trying to be more present.
“We’re a different generation of dads,” he said.
Might those kids one day join the business?
“Are we going to be saying the same thing our parents told us? ‘Don’t do the restaurant business.’ Or are we going to embrace them being in this business? I guess only time will tell,” PJ Busalacchi said.
If his sons, nieces or nephews showed interest, “I’d be more than willing to teach them. Because I think, at the end of the day, it’s a beautiful thing to pass down legacy, and to pass down restaurants, and to really keep this restaurant alive for 40 more years. That is, I think, our goal.”
