Some Bronx families have bought their Sunday ravioli from the same counter since 1950, and they still make the drive. A grandfather who could no longer roll his own dough reportedly asked to be taken here because it was as close to his own pasta as anything could be.
That kind of loyalty does not happen by accident. In a city where so much now comes shrink-wrapped and scanned at a self-checkout, one small shop off Arthur Avenue still cuts noodles to order and hangs them to dry on a rack overhead.
It has been run by the same family since 1935. The boxes of ravioli are stacked in layers with wax paper, the price is still fair, and the payment is still cash.
Keep reading to learn its story, what to order, when to go, and why people ship it across the country.
A Family Counter on East 187th Street
The shop in question is Borgatti’s Ravioli & Egg Noodles, and it sits at 632 E 187th St, Bronx, NY 10458, in New York State.
That puts it in the Belmont neighborhood, the area most New Yorkers simply call Arthur Avenue. It is a pasta shop in the truest sense, with no tables and no menu board full of entrees.
What it does is make pasta, and it has been doing that since 1935. The business is family-run, and the Borgatti name is still on the door and behind the counter.
The address matters a little more than usual here. The shop sits a block or two down the road from the main cluster of Italian food purveyors on Arthur Avenue itself.
Some first-timers walk right past the turn. Others plan the whole trip around this one stop and treat the rest of the neighborhood as a bonus.
The pull is simple to explain. Housemade cheese ravioli, flavored fettuccine, egg noodles cut to the width a customer requests, and a list of shapes that are hard to find elsewhere in the city.
Nine decades on, the formula has barely moved, and that is exactly the point.
Since 1935, Same Name on the Box
Ninety years is a long stretch for any small business in New York. Rents climb, neighborhoods shift, and plenty of family shops quietly turn into phone stores.
Borgatti’s has kept going since 1935, and it remains family owned. The name on the boxes and the name of the people behind the counter are still the same.
Chris Borgatti has personally answered customers online, thanking them and noting that the shop takes pride in its products and service. That small detail says a lot about how the place is run.
The loyalty runs just as deep on the other side of the counter. One family says it has been coming since 1950.
Another longtime customer has been eating Borgatti’s ravioli since the late 1960s and calls the family a neighborhood staple. Those are not one-time shoppers.
They are households that built Sunday dinner around this address for decades. Children who once tagged along now drive in from an hour away to buy the same boxes.
Very few things in the city can claim that kind of unbroken streak. This shop wears it lightly, with no fanfare, just a counter and a lot of fresh dough.
The Rack Overhead and the Machines in Back
Look up after entering, and the noodles are hanging right there. A metal rack overhead holds freshly sliced pasta as it air-dries.
In the back, machines press the dough flat and cut it into different widths. Nothing here is hidden behind a factory wall.
The owner has reportedly been happy to walk curious customers through the whole process. That means everything from forming the dough to how the noodles are dried.
Everything is made from scratch on site. The shop offers both fresh and dried pasta in a long list of varieties.
Some of the more rustic, toothsome shapes are the kind that pasta lovers struggle to track down in regular supermarkets. That is a big part of why people make the trip.
There is something quietly reassuring about seeing the work happen in the same room where it is sold. The steps are visible, and the people doing them are right there.
For kids, it can be a small education in where dinner actually comes from. For adults, it is proof that the old way of doing things still has a home in the Bronx, rack and all.
Twenty-Seven Ravioli, Three Layers Deep
Ask a Bronx family what Sunday looks like, and the answer often starts with a box from this counter.
The signature ravioli come packed 27 to a box. Inside, the pasta sits in three layers separated by wax paper and dusted with cornmeal so the pieces do not stick together.
Each raviolo is plump, with a filling of ricotta and Parmesan, and spinach in the spinach version. The dough has a proper thickness and a pleasant chew.
Cooking instructions are refreshingly simple. Boil the large ravioli for about 12 to 14 minutes and they are ready for sauce.
A box of 27 large ravioli is said to feed a family of four. That estimate assumes some self-control, which not every household has.
There are several fillings to choose from, including cheese, spinach and ricotta, meat and spinach, and porcini and ricotta. A frozen large lobster and ricotta version has a following of its own.
Small and large sizes are available, so the choice depends on the sauce and the crowd. One sitting usually settles the question of which one becomes the family favorite.
Noodles Cut to Order
Here is a question most grocery stores never ask: how wide would you like your noodles?
At Borgatti’s, customers can choose the width. A pasta width card on the wall shows the options, and longtime shoppers often order by number.
One grandfather who grew up making his own pasta reportedly always bought several pounds of the number 2 and number 3 cuts. He made a point of studying that card every visit.
The egg noodles are the shop’s other namesake, and they are the reason it carries the name it does. They cook up reliably, batch after batch.
Customers mention fresh spaghetti, basil linguine and fettuccine among their regular orders. There is even a protein pasta option for those who want it.
The staff will also make custom pasta to fit what someone needs. That level of flexibility is rare anywhere, let alone in a shop this old.
For home cooks who care about matching shape to sauce, this is the place to be fussy. Nobody behind the counter will roll their eyes at a precise request.
Squid Ink, Beet and Other Surprises
Plain egg pasta is only the beginning. The flavored fettuccine might be the most fun corner of the shop.
Past options have included basil pasta, a tomato and carrot blend, and squid ink. Seasonal batches have featured pumpkin fettuccine, beet fettuccine, and pumpkin and ricotta ravioli.
Squid ink in particular has its fans. For at least one old-timer, finding it in stock was enough to make the whole trip.
Availability shifts with the season, so the lineup on any given visit may differ. That keeps regulars checking in to see what has rotated in.
These colorful noodles are a simple way to make a weeknight plate feel like a special occasion. They also make a strong case for kids who claim to be bored of regular spaghetti.
The colors stand out on a dinner table without any extra effort from the cook. Toss them with butter or a simple sauce and let the pasta do the talking.
Calling ahead or checking the website is a smart move for anyone hunting a specific flavor. A little planning beats a long drive for something that sold out.
Manicotti and Cavatelli Fans Have a Point
Ravioli gets top billing, yet the manicotti comes up just as often in conversations about this shop.
It is sold ready to bake, which makes it a favorite for busy households. A tray once cost about $6, and even inexperienced cooks found it easy to get right.
The filling is generously cheesy. That makes it a dependable choice for holiday tables and big family gatherings.
Cavatelli is another regular pick. Its rustic shape holds onto sauce, and fresh versions are not always easy to find in the city.
Fresh spaghetti and cheese ravioli round out what many consider the essential first order. A small manicotti-style ravioli also exists for those who want both ideas in one.
A Thanksgiving table in Florida once tried the small manicotti ravioli next to the small meat and spinach ones. The family split evenly on which was better.
That kind of friendly argument might be the best endorsement a pasta shop can get. The easy fix is to buy both next time.
Sauces, Cheese and Pantry Extras
Forgot the sauce? The back of the shop has that covered.
Borgatti’s sells a select lineup of sauces, including Italian marinara. A jar was once priced at around $3.80, which made it an easy add-on.
Spices and cheese are on hand too. The shelves carry the basics needed to turn a box of fresh pasta into a full dinner.
Dried pasta imported from Italy is available for pantry stocking. There is also gluten-free dried pasta, a thoughtful option for households with dietary needs.
The fresh case remains the main attraction, without question. Still, being able to grab a complete meal in one stop saves a second errand.
Some customers at home have paired the pasta with their own creations, such as a mushroom and aged Parmesan sauce. The pasta works as a canvas for family recipes.
That is how Sunday dinner usually works anyway. The shop supplies the foundation, and each kitchen adds its own signature on top.
Kindness Behind the Counter
A family from Michigan arrived five minutes after closing time. They were flying home the next day and thought they had missed their chance.
The owners heard them outside, came out, and reopened the shop just for them. The family bought several packages, froze them overnight and shipped them home.
Moments like that explain the devotion this place earns. The managers and staff come across as warm, welcoming and patient.
They are knowledgeable too, and quick with a recommendation for anyone unsure what to buy. First-timers get the same attention as fifty-year regulars.
An older gentleman with failing eyesight was always treated with care during his visits. His grandchild still remembers how welcome the staff made him feel.
Another small detail regulars notice is a picture of St. Mother Teresa on the wall behind the counter. It fits the personal, family feel of the room.
Plenty of shops sell good pasta. Fewer make customers feel like they belong to the story, and that is the part people seem to remember longest.
The Line Outside and Who Joins It
A crowd by the entrance is a common sight, especially around holidays and weekends.
Some people brave cold weather in long lines just to get their fresh pasta. The good news is that the line tends to move fast because the staff keeps the process smooth.
The crowd is a real mix. There are Bronx families on their third generation of customers, and suburbanites who drive an hour to stock up.
Visitors from the Finger Lakes have planned trips here. A traveler staying in Manhattan once made a special journey up after a priest friend from New Jersey insisted.
Even people who claim not to care much about pasta have been drawn in by the line. Curiosity tends to win, and the boxes usually go home.
A trip to the New York Botanical Garden pairs naturally with a stop here. Many people work it into an Arthur Avenue food day.
The shop suits anyone who cooks at home and values tradition. It is a takeout counter, not a sit-down spot, so plan to bring the meal home.
Shipping Sunday Dinner Across the Country
Moving away from the Bronx no longer means giving up the family ravioli.
Borgatti’s ships its pasta, and orders have gone to Florida, Southern California and beyond. Customers who cannot visit in person can still get their boxes.
Packages tend to arrive in good shape and nicely packed. Recipients often say the pasta reminds them of what a nonna or grandma used to make.
One household sent boxes of ravioli to Florida specifically for Thanksgiving. That turned a holiday table hundreds of miles away into a little piece of Arthur Avenue.
Ordering is handled through the shop’s website at borgattis.com. It is the easiest route for anyone outside driving range.
Shipping is also a useful option for those who would rather skip the line. That proved especially helpful during busy periods.
For transplants who grew up on this pasta, a box at the door can feel like a visit home. It is old-school tradition delivered with modern convenience.
Hours, Cash and Timing the Trip
Bring cash. The shop is cash only, and that rule has not changed in years.
Hours run 8:30 AM to 4:30 PM Tuesday through Friday. Saturday stays open a bit later, from 8:30 AM to 5 PM.
Sunday is short, from 9 AM to 1 PM, so the Sunday ravioli crowd should arrive early. The shop is closed on Mondays.
Prices are widely considered fair, especially for fresh, handmade pasta. A box of 27 signature ravioli has been around $14 in years past, and ready-to-bake manicotti about $6.
Prices can change over time, so it is wise to budget a little extra. Checking the website before going is also a good habit.
The shop sits a short walk from the main Arthur Avenue strip. Some prefer to visit during daylight, as the surrounding area feels quieter after dark.
An early weekday morning is the calmest bet. Holidays and weekends bring the biggest crowds and the longest wait at the door.
Why the Bronx Keeps Coming Back
Some places sell food. A rare few hold a neighborhood’s memory, and Borgatti’s belongs in that second group.
It has the long track record, with the same family since 1935. It also has customers who measure their loyalty in decades rather than visits.
The pasta is made from scratch, cut to order and sold at prices that still feel fair. The staff treats a stranger arriving after closing like an old friend.
Plenty of shoppers say that once they try it, store-bought pasta stops being an option. That is a lot of loyalty for a box of noodles.
There is also comfort in what has not changed. The rack still hangs overhead, the width card is still on the wall, and the register still takes cash.
For New Yorkers who worry that every good old thing is disappearing, this little shop on East 187th Street offers some welcome proof otherwise.
Come early on a Sunday, pick up a box, and carry the tradition home. The next generation at the table might just start a fifty-year habit of their own.
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