In 2015, Lucia Marchetti started hosting Sunday suppers in her fifth-floor walk-up on W 10th Street. It began as twelve chairs squeezed around two tables, cooking her mother Nunzia's Sicilian recipes — panelle, wild boar ragù, and a cannoli cream she refuses to write down. Neighbors started trading invites like currency. There was a waitlist. It had rules.

By 2019, the supper club had outgrown the apartment twice over. Lucia found a storefront ten blocks north on W 10th — big enough for a real wood-fired oven, small enough that every table still hears the kitchen. Lucia's Kitchen opened that October, with Nunzia's recipe book under the register and a framed waitlist from the old supper club by the door.

The promise never changed: feed people like they're family. The pasta is rolled every afternoon, the ragù starts before sunrise, and if you're the last table of the night, you'll probably be offered a glass of something while the staff eats family meal.