by Titti Casiello
There used to be a fountain inside the local Torretta marke tin Naples. Concetta remembers it well—when she was a child, she would play around it with her two brothers, Diego and Vittorio.
"I was about to get married when they tore it down; they said the market needed modernization." And yet, with or without the fountain, that market has always remained the same—a covered structure where, for almost sixty years, generations of poultry sellers, butchers, and greengrocers have come and gone, embodying that ever-present oxymoron between the historic poverty of the city and its joyful art of getting by.
Cibi Cotti Nonna Anna at Torretta
And since 1968, even that sign at the back of the market has remained unchanged: "Cibi Cotti Nonna Anna." A sign with bright-colored letters that seems to be part of the market’s very identity.
"It was '67 when my father applied to the municipality for one of the concession spaces. He wanted to open a hardware store, but my mother, Anna, convinced him instead to open a small eatery."
Authentic and ancient Neapolitan cuisine, just like at home
Anna cooked there as if she were at home—pasta and potatoes, pasta with peas, or pasta with chickpeas or beans.
"In the evening, she would soak the legumes with baking soda—the supplier back then, the Russo company, is still the same today. My mother didn’t even know what canned beans were."
And then there were the meatballs, zucchini alla scapece, and fried anchovies.
"She could even cook something separate for just one person. There was a customer who used to bring his own oil."
Anna treated everyone like family: "Even today, our most loyal customers come here and feel at home."

Concetta, the daughter of Nonna Anna, who now sits at the cash register and represents the historical memory.
Nonna Anna: a kitchen for the people of Torretta
"It was for the people," Concetta recalls with a hint of nostalgia. "She always had a special eye for the workers, giving them bigger portions than the office employees."
Through her kitchen, Anna managed to weave together cultural and social threads in a neighborhood like Torretta—always a working-class area wedged between the wealthier streets of the city. On one side, Viale Gramsci, with its beautiful neoclassical buildings filled with nameplates of law and medical offices. On the other, the Riviera di Chiaia, with its lively bourgeoisie that, from Villa Pignatelli onward, changes in character, blending into an almost Bourbon-like aristocracy that stretches to Piazza Vittoria.

Nonna Anna during the filming of the video for Japanese TV.
The lawyer eats next to the worker, as always
At Cibi Cotti, seating has always been first-come, first-served. The lawyer sits next to the worker, and over the same plate of pasta and pumpkin, they chat. Discussions shift from subcontracting and legal filings to inevitable debates over an unrecognized offside against Napoli.
"It has always been this way—my mother poured her heart into this place."
Concetta recounts how Anna was a strong woman. Pregnant with her third child, she was the one searching for chickpeas and beans. "Then my father left with another woman." But when love crumbled, her kitchen saved her:
"She had all the grandchildren around the stove—one grating Parmesan, another peeling green beans, while someone else was still playing football in the market," says Sabrina, one of Anna’s granddaughters.
"There’s even a Japanese TV documentary featuring all the tables set up in the middle of the room and the grandchildren trying to make gnocchi with my mother," Concetta recalls.

Vincenzo, Nonna Anna's grandson, now runs the trattoria.
Today, Anna’s grandson runs the place, and the recipes remain the same
Anna never left that room—she was there, cleaning friarielli and peeling potatoes until the very end.
"She had broken her hip, but every morning, she insisted on being brought to the market. She ignored the pain, focusing only on what needed to be done."
And by doing so, she took care of the whole family.
Sabrina, Concetta’s daughter, knows how to stretch casatiello dough just like her grandmother did, while Vincenzo was entrusted with running the eatery, which remains as busy as ever.
The kitchen, however, has always been Lino’s domain. "He’s always been here," says Concetta. She, on the other hand, only took over the register after retiring: "I used to be a government employee." But for over twenty years now, this lively eighty-year-old woman has been there, keeping the accounts—writing up pre-bills by hand on checkered notepads.
La Genovese, the traditional menu, and the new ‘fit’ dishes
It’s 12:30. Showtime.
Today, alongside pasta with chickpeas, baccalà alla pizzaiola, and fried anchovies, there’s also a "fit" menu introduced by Vincenzo:
"Memory is everything, but even my mother, like Vincenzo, had her own evolutions."
This is how crostata di Genovese was born, now a staple at Cibi Cotti—a Genovese sauce slowly reduced and then baked in the oven with tagliatelle, meatballs, and provola cheese. But of course, the classic version remains too—with meat slow-cooked in a ridiculous yet essential amount of onion until it turns into a thick, brown ragù, perfect for coating ziti.
"I also introduced a chickpea and pumpkin soup, which is still on the menu," Vincenzo explains—a novelty that stands alongside classics like lentils and spinach or beans and escarole.
A faithful yet evolving cuisine
In short, Cibi Cotti’s kitchen has never stayed exactly the same, yet it has always remained true to itself.
Perhaps the lard in pasta and beans or the bit of sugna in the ragù are no longer used—"because they say it’s unhealthy"—but nothing is ever frozen, and canned products are never used.
These principles still guide Vincenzo in his management today. And maybe, there’s even a touch of pride in keeping things unchanged.
This kitchen has remained one of the last strongholds of Neapolitan culinary tradition—never giving in, not even to the waves of tourists who now crowd the eatery, listed in so many travel and food guides.
"In fact, this is exactly what they’re looking for."
When lunch is over, everything is cleaned up. Concetta and Vincenzo lower the shutters...
"See you tomorrow." Since 1968.
Cibi Cotti Nonna Anna - Napoli - via Ferdinando Galiani, 30 - 081 1786 3673 - @cibicottinonnaanna