You might already know Vecchia Pizzeria & Mercato, a staple in Hoover since opening in 2014 — the kind of place that smells like warm dough and simmering sauce as you open the door. Inside, the energy is lived-in and unpolished in the best way: flour-dusted counters, and the steady hum of conversation between friends and family. It is not about the plates the pizza is served on, but about full tables and familiar faces.

Just a little farther down the strip sits Vecchia Gelato & Café, the newest extension of that same philosophy — softer, slower, filled with espresso steam, glowing gelato cases, and the quiet invitation to sit, stay, and savor.

Together, the two spaces reflect something their owners believe deeply: food is meant to be enjoyed, not rushed. In contrast to the fast-paced, highly commercialized restaurant culture in the U.S., Vecchia borrows from the rhythm of the Mediterranean — where meals are rituals, not transactions, and time at the table matters just as much as what’s being served. That philosophy is not accidental. It is the result of years of intention, travel, and shared values, shaped by the husband-and-wife duo behind Vecchia, Chef Benard Tamburello and Brianna Tamburello, whose story — and partnership — is the heart of everything that follows.

Two Cultures, One Table

Long before he was shaping menus or opening restaurants, Chef Benard Tamburello learned what food meant at home — surrounded by family, ingredients, and the quiet understanding that cooking was a way to show love. “Everything we do goes back to family,” he says. “I grew up around food — my father was a private food label buyer for the Bruno’s grocery family and I would spend hours taking ingredients and playing around with recipes. It started with frozen pizzas and toppings at eight years old.”

Those early memories are woven into every detail of Vecchia. From the family-style wood tables to the open kitchen and the easy smiles on servers’ faces, the space feels like a direct extension of Benard’s roots.

If Benard’s relationship with food was shaped in the kitchen, Brianna Tamburello’s was shaped around the table. Raised in a Greek tradition where meals are meant to be shared and lingered over, she learned early that hospitality is emotional. Gathering, warmth, and welcome mattered just as much as what was being served.

“From Sunday meals to holiday cooking, food has always been the center of connection for both of our families,” Brianna says. “Vecchia is really a reflection of that — a place where recipes, stories, and generations meet.”

She envisioned a space that felt warm, beautiful, and alive — like stepping into a neighborhood café in Italy. The ideal place would be where someone could come alone with a coffee, meet friends for gelato, bring their kids after school, or sit and talk for an hour. And customers do just that. Beyond the glass case filled with pastries and the creamy gelato piled high, it is the hospitality — the tone set by Brianna and Benard — that defines the experience.

Together, they bring two Mediterranean traditions to the same table. Benard’s approach is rooted in craft and technique, shaped by tradition and respect for ingredients. Brianna’s focus is on how a space feels — the warmth, the welcome, the moments that happen between bites. Vecchia exists in the balance of both, where what’s served and how it’s experienced carry equal weight.

Italy as Teacher, Not Trend

Many restaurants can say they source Italian flour; few can say they have shared lunch with the person who mills it. Each year, the Tamburellos return to Italy not as tourists, but as students — building relationships with millers, bakers, and cheesemakers whose work now shows up on Vecchia’s tables.

“Pizza wasn’t a trend, espresso wasn’t a luxury, and gelato wasn’t a once-in-a-while treat — it was a ritual,” Benard says. In Italy, eating is about good, fulfilling ingredients meant to be enjoyed daily, not performed or reserved for special occasions.

That philosophy guides Vecchia’s commitment to sourcing key ingredients directly from Italy and making everything else in-house. For Brianna, the lesson extended beyond the plate. “Italy showed us that the magic isn’t just what’s on the plate — it’s how people gather around it,” she says.

That ethos is visible in the physical spaces themselves. At Vecchia Pizzeria & Mercato, the open kitchen bustles as line cooks prepare each dish to order. The massive pizza ovens — built from rock sourced from Mount Vesuvius — anchor the room in craft and history. Rustic wood tables and a worn bar counter invite guests to share space and stay awhile, while drinks pulled straight from the cooler keep the experience casual and unpretentious.

At Vecchia Gelato & Café, the atmosphere softens into pale pinks and blues, with a Carrara marble bar quarried from the Apuan Alps of Tuscany and shipped to Hoover. Vintage photographs line the walls, grounding the space in memory rather than trend. Together, the two restaurants reflect Italy not as aesthetic, but as a way of living.

Why Alabama

For the Tamburellos, opening Vecchia in Alabama was never a strategic decision — it was a personal one. “This is home,” Brianna says. “Our family is here. Our story started here. Alabama supported Benard long before Vecchia existed, and we wanted to give something meaningful back to the community that shaped us.”

Choosing Hoover also meant challenging the idea that great food only belongs in major cities. “You don’t have to be in New York or Chicago to do something special,” Benard says. “There is an incredible food community here. We wanted to bring world-class Italian tradition to Alabama — and show that it belongs here.”

That support revealed itself early — in customers who returned week after week and in a community that embraced what they were building long before it was finished.

In the end, Vecchia is both world-class in tradition and deeply local in spirit because it reflects the people behind it. Benard and Brianna did not separate themselves from the business — they became it. The food matters, but so does the feeling, the welcome, and the relationships formed around the table. Vecchia is not simply where they serve Italian food; it is where they have shared themselves with the community that raised them.

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