Bilena Settepani is a pastry chef, happy creator and Italian-American entrepreneur. He works in the family business, Settepani, a historic bakery and restaurant with roots between Brooklyn and Harlem, where he grew up. Today he is involved in the creative development of sweets, but also in the marketing and e-commerce of the brand. In recent years it has gained a lot of visibility on social media thanks to viral creations – such as panettone produced all year round and the “rainbow cookies croissant” – that combine the Italian American tradition with a more playful experimentation.
At first you didn’t plan to enter the family business. Looking back, that change was a conscious choice or something that, over time, became inevitable?
As children of first-generation immigrants, my parents have always wanted something more for us. They know how difficult the hospitality industry is and have always given a lot of importance to education. They made so many sacrifices because my brother Seyoum and I could get a good training. They didn’t want me to enter the business: they wanted us to go to university, explore other roads, maybe becoming doctors or lawyers.
So I tried to make them happy. I graduated in communication and started working in fashion. I liked it, but after work I always ended up getting back to bakery. There was something about working with my family that kept attracting me. I finally enrolled in a cooking school, graduated and started working full-time in the family business.
My grandmother always said: “When you stop with what you’re doing and go help your father? He needs you.” He was very determined on this. My choice is not only about wanting to honor his memory, but it has to do with love. I really love what we do and I love working with my family.
Food unites people. It allows us to remain tied to our culture and keep traditions alive, even in a place like New York, which is home, but it is far from the place from which my family comes. This connection to me is incredibly important.
My parents emigrated to New York from teenagers. My father settled in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, while my mother ended up in Queens. My father studied at NYU when he bought a small bakery in the Village, on LaGuardia Place: it was the beginning of the story of Settepani, although then the place was called Bruno Bakery, by the name of the original owners. Everything started from there. Over the years the activity has grown, starting from the first bakery until it arrives at several Settepani offices, including a Sicilian restaurant on the 20th street called Bondi. In the nineties and in the first two thousand we also had two coffee shops in Westchester. Today we have Settepani, a restaurant in Harlem opened for more than 26 years; our bakery in Williamsburg, which will soon celebrate 35 years; and we manage some coffee, one in Dumbo, Brooklyn. This year we also opened two new points at Studio Museum and Central Park.
I’ve been surrounded by food my whole life. My parents, my grandparents and most of my family were, and they’re still involved in this world.
You grew up in Settepani, but today you are actively helping to transform it. How do you find the balance between the preservation of a family heritage and the need to make it evolve?
I really grew up in Settepani. Some of my first memories are related to homework at the bakery table or to people working with my parents and caring for me. I made my first steps there; probably even my first words had to do with food.
Your work combines Italian tradition with influences that go far beyond. Are you trying to expand the meaning of “Italian” or question it?
I am not trying to change or question the meaning of “Italian”. My goal is to share Italian culture, recipes and traditions, and gather people through all this. Recently I started organizing monthly events in our restaurant to build a community: we put together Italians just arrived, long-time friends and anyone who loves Italian food. It is a way to keep traditions alive here in New York, without having to go to Italy. Food is a very powerful connector: it brings memories, emotions and a sense of home to memory.
Many dishes exist in various cultures in different forms – a cutlet, for example, appears in different kitchens with different names – but all connect people to memory. For me, things like pastry when you are sick, the caponata after school or traditional Sicilian biscuits such as buccellates are deeply linked to childhood and family traditions. Even when we innovate, as in the case of artisan bakery produced all year round, a practice my father has contributed to introduce in the United States, we do so to keep a narrative alive. New tastes and new formats do not mean abandoning tradition: they serve to make it understandable and close to our community today.
Growing between different cultures in New York, do you feel more connected to an Italian identity, a New York mentality or something entirely yours?
I think Italians often become more proud of their identity when they are far from Italy. Growing up in a family that felt homesickness and came from different cultures, I was always surrounded by that pride for our origins. Food is the most immediate way to reconnect when you can’t get on a plane, so we keep the traditions all year round, sometimes with modern touches, but always remaining tied to authenticity. I would say that I am a mix: Italian and New York, but also something deeply mine, formed by both these worlds.
Italian food in the United States is often linked to nostalgia. Your approach seems more forward-oriented: do you think this perception is finally changing?
Yes. Nostalgic will always remain central, and it is a beautiful thing, because it binds food to family and memory. But today there is growing curiosity: people want to learn, try new interpretations and understand stories behind the dishes. The future of Italian cuisine here will be this balance: honoring tradition, leaving room for evolution. It is not a question of replacing the past, but of building on something for the new generations.
You do not only create products, but also contribute to building the brand and its story. How intentional is the work to give a clear view of everything you do?
I’m increasingly aware that I’m building a brand. At first I was simply concentrating on preserving family traditions; now I understand how important it is to have and communicate a clear point of view. For me it is essential to preserve traditions and explain its meaning: because certain dishes are prepared, because they are linked to certain holidays, as they link to culture. In a world full of negativity, bringing people together through food to create joy and connection seems fundamental to me, especially in a city like New York.
If I had to define what it represents today – not just as pastry chefs, but as the voice of a new generation – what would you say?
It’s hard to define me in one category. I consider myself a baker first. Everyone has a voice; mine is a way to keep alive traditions and stories through something sweet. I hope to represent a generation that gives value to tradition, community and collaboration: people who believe that we are stronger together and that we should support each other instead of competing with each other. I am grateful for the trust that people place in me when they eat my food, choose us for their events or listen to our story. If anything, my goal is to use that trust to build ties and keep our cultural stories alive.
L’articolo Bilena Settepani and the future of Italian pastry in New York proviene da IlNewyorkese.
