At Rome’s Beloved Bar San Calisto, That’ll Be €3.50 for Your Spritz

The Trastevere haunt, which remains unchanged since the 1960s, is a staunch reminder of aperitivo’s roots as both affordable, and for everyone.

buildings, leads to a small clearing. Walking through this passageway with its graffitied stucco walls is like being catapulted into the Rome of the 1960s—the din of a tourist-filled piazza gives way to a quiet, sun-drenched square anchored by a first-century church, the picture-perfect backdrop to old Vespas whizzing by. Bringing life to this otherwise quiet corner of the neighborhood is Bar San Calisto, with its signature squiggly cursive sign that reads, simply, Bar. Though it looks like a postcard, Bar San Calisto is as authentic a neighborhood bar as you’ll find in Rome. It was founded in 1969 by Marcello Forti who, like many in Rome, came to the city from Abruzzo, a mostly rural region not far from Italy’s capital. Forti took over the space that had been open since the 1930s, but had never fared particularly well. Forti had been working as a cook in a restaurant in Trastevere, but took the opportunity to fulfill a dream of having something of his own: For 55 years he has sat behind the cash register every day, and still makes the ice cream that is served—summer and winter—at the age of 78. Joining him in the business today are his son Valerio, as well as co-owner Fabrizio Toto and his sons, Matteo and Simone. Inside, a space rarely used by guests (in Rome, whether it’s hot or cold, people drink outside), old bitters advertisements populate the wood-covered walls alongside flags from Rome’s soccer teams; photos depicting the neighborhood and famous Italians, such as actor Marcello Mastroianni; and poems that regulars have dedicated to the owner and the bar itself. A central counter is home to a large espresso machine, though it’s outside where people—young, old, rich, poor, even the local neighborhood eccentrics—gather under patinated Peroni-branded umbrellas. Everyone is welcome and everyone feels at home.

May 13, 2024

PLACES

Andrea Strafile lives in Trastevere, Rome. He is a food and cocktail writer for Identità Golose, Standart, National Geographic and he has been Munchies Italia’s editor in chief. He can’t say no to a Gibson. Wet, please.

According to bar manager Mario Seijo, El Batey is “a space for everyone but not understood by everyone.”

by Andrea Strafile Photos by Olimpia Piccolo

assing through Piazza Santa Maria in Rome’s Trastevere neighborhood, directly opposite the pharmacy, a small street, hemmed in by two old

Inside, a space rarely used by guests (in Rome, whether it’s hot or cold, people drink outside), old bitters advertisements populate the wood-covered walls alongside flags from Rome’s soccer teams; photos depicting the neighborhood and famous Italians, such as actor Marcello Mastroianni; and poems that regulars have dedicated to the owner and the bar itself. A central counter is home to a large espresso machine, though it’s outside where people—young, old, rich, poor, even the local neighborhood eccentrics—gather under patinated Peroni-branded umbrellas. Everyone is welcome and everyone feels at home.

Bar San Calisto serves an average of 400 people a day during the week and twice that number on weekends. People come for the familiar atmosphere, but also the prices, which have always been deliberately accessible.

“When we first opened,” says Forti, “the neighborhood was quite poor—unlike now—and the families living here were numerous. They used to come from all over the neighborhood to watch television until late because we were the only ones to have one: It has always been a place for gathering and socializing.” Forti’s takeover of the space coincided with a flourishing of this particular kind of bar: The ritual of espresso and aperitivo with friends only started with the economic boom of the 1950s and ’60s in Italy. Before that, Italians went to osterias for a drink, and it was almost always wine. “Initially people drank some amari, straight whiskey, Campari Soda and beer,” says Forti. “We used to serve maybe five cocktails throughout the day, basically just Rum & Coke, Gin & Tonic and Cardinale. Then, in the 1980s, Negroni and Americano were added. Today the majority are spritzes, made with Aperol, Campari or amaro like Cynar. And beer, of course, lots and lots of beer.”

Bar San Calisto serves an average of 400 people a day during the week and twice that number on weekends, with people spilling out from the confines of the patio into the surrounding square. The secret is in the familiar atmosphere, but also in the prices, which have always been deliberately accessible. While it’s not uncommon to encounter spritzes priced between 5 and 10 euros at typical bars in Rome, at Bar San Calisto it is only 3.50 euros for a spritz, 2.50 euros for an amaro, 1.50 for a 33-centiliter bottle of beer (about 11 ounces) and 90 cents for coffee. “I have always believed in fair prices accessible to everyone for a good product,” Forti says. “There were dark years when there were a lot of heroin junkies around here and some cops would advise me to raise the prices so they wouldn’t come to me anymore. But I never wanted to—the poor should be treated like the rich. The bar is for everyone.” As Rome’s bar culture evolves and inflation looms, Forti’s bar serves as a reminder of the roots of aperitivo as something affordable, and for everyone. “Today, as decades ago, it has remained the same: Bar San Calisto is and always will be a meeting place for anyone, the last place left [of old] Trastevere, which is increasingly devoted to tourism.”

Then the plants started shutting down. As far back as the 1980s, Detroit’s auto industry had begun shrinking. The financial crisis of 2008 hit Detroit particularly hard, and the midnight shift was an early casualty of the Great Recession. In 2009, U.S. auto plants ran at only 49 percent capacity and some plants only operated a single shift per day. By 2012, that number had ticked back up to 81 percent as carmakers like General Motors added the third shift back into the schedule of production. Still, third-shift manufacturing in general is trending downward, the result of unionization, overseas outsourcing of jobs and the decreasing sales of American cars.

From left: Rakibuz Zaman, who has worked at Bar San Calisto for 15 years; a Cynar spritz, a popular order; Simone Toto, son of the owner, serving gelato, a year-round staple at the bar.

Owner Marcello Forti, 78, has been sitting behind the register at Bar San Calisto every day for 55 years.

Behind the bar, bartenders are uncorking bottles and serving drinks at lightning speed, as they do every day. They are masters of efficiency, dispensing beers, coffees, ice creams, amari and spritzes with ease, grabbing bottles from the top-loading refrigerator, a once-ubiquitous design feature that’s all but extinct in contemporary bars. Rakibuz Zaman, an Italian citizen of Bangladeshi birth, is one of the historic bartenders here, having worked at the bar for 15 years. “I remember the trends that have passed through here: Before the advent of cocktail bars, when I started, locals mostly asked for Campari laced with gin or vodka,” he recalls. “Today it’s mostly spritz, Negroni or Negroni Sbagliato.” The Negroni is pre-batched in 1-liter bottles and sometimes they go through six a night. “We are so fast that a spritz is made in less than five seconds. I love this job, although when they ask me for pastis with water on the side or fresh-squeezed orange juice, I get a little annoyed because I have to waste more time on it.” It is so easy to sit at one of the bar’s little tables in the sun in the morning and stay until evening, starting with a coffee and ending with a few drinks. Every day, it’s the same, cozy and inviting, with friends passing by, new people getting to know each other, old people playing cards and inevitably, someone coming in with a speaker to put on some music—a small reminder to slow down in a world that goes too fast. For 55 years Bar San Calisto has been like this, a crystallized memento of exactly what a bar is really about: enjoying life with very little.

A bartender serves a pre-batched Negroni.

Rakibuz Zaman has worked at Bar San Calisto for 15 years

Third-Shift Bars Detroit Abicks Eastpointe Pub