Steven Schirripa has survived another season of “The Sopranos,” written two best sellers, and is racking up a slew of film credits. Just don’t ask him who’s getting whacked next - or to make you a Daiquiri.

By Joan Tarshis

It's a cool, crisp, early spring day as I walk down Mulberry Street, the heart and soul of New York City’s Little Italy. I’m on way to have lunch with Steven Schirripa, known to fans of HBO’s phenomenally popular mob drama, “The Sopranos,” as the tough but tenderhearted Bobby “Bacala” Baccalieri. My excitement about meeting one of my favorite characters on my favorite television show is apparent even to the tourists that line both sides of the storied boulevard, filing in and out of the plentiful restaurants, bakeries, and souvenir shops. My own destination is Schirripa’s favorite restaurant, Il Cortile, the place where the actor takes fellow cast members after their character on the show has been whacked. As few characters die of natural causes on “The Sopranos” - Tony’s mother, Livia, played by the late Nancy Marchand, being a notable exception - the guests of honor here have been plentiful. I felt honored to be the latest, despite lacking the prerequisite of meeting my maker on TV.

More than an acting career has blossomed since Schirripa rose to fame as the New Jersey mob’s gentle giant. He has co-authored, with journalist Charles Fleming, two best sellers: The Goomba’s Guide to Life and The Goomba’s Book of Love. He also plans to release both an anecdotal cookbook and a young adult novel (also co-written with Fleming) in the near future. On the small screen, the Bensonhurst, Brooklyn native has guested on several TV series - “Law and Order” and “Ed” among them - and is a special correspondent for Jay Leno on “The Tonight Show.” On the big screen, he’s been in See Spot Run, with David Arquette and Paul Sorvino; the KISS love fest, Detroit Rock City; and the upcoming Indies, Stuey with fellow “Soprano” Michael Imperioli, and Duane Hopwood with David Schwimmer and Janeane Garofalo, in which he actually gets to play an attorney instead of a stereotypical wiseguy.

I don’t have to wonder who’s getting here first. I first spy Schirripa standing across the street, in front of Il Cortile, talking to an elderly gent. I catch his eye and pantomime writing on my palm. “Joan?” he asks rhetorically. I nod and back off while he finishes his conversation. Other passersby aren’t as considerate. “Hey ‘Sopranos!’” a few people yell as they walk by. He’s a big guy, with about zero probability of blending into a crowd. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to mind the attention.

Il Cortile is a family-owned restaurant with an outdoor garden in the back. We choose a quiet room that has been broken down after the lunch rush - as it happens, the place where the “Sopranos” cast had Uncle Junior’s bachelor party. Cool. We sit down and the chatting begins easily. He asks me if I smoke cigars. We talk about diets we’ve been on. He tells me he’s lost weight, so we’re probably not going to have baked ziti. He asks me what I want for lunch, and I respond, “Anything without chicken or meat.” Vincenzo the waiter has brought menus. They are paper, folded in quarters and sealed with a gold sticker like the safety wrap on an aspirin bottle. Schirripa talks to Vincenzo, who seems to have a handle on what we’re going to eat. Apparently, I will not need to break the menu’s seal until I get home.

He starts talking about the show even before our appetizers and bread are served, so I hastily grab my tape recorder and put it on the table. I can’t help asking Schirripa questions, like the fan I am, about the show and his character, and he is happy, like the fan he is, to reply.

“I think he inherited Uncle Junior, somewhere along the line,” Schirripa says of his character. “It was said that [Bobby’s] father used to work with him. I think he was a waiter at one time, and just fell into the business. He’s a family guy; I think he must have done some bad things along the way, but he loved his wife, loves his kids - not a complete idiot, but not the smartest guy. Junior kind of abuses him, the cranky old guy. The more Bobby takes it, the more he seems to care about him. He’s like a beat puppy. Tony used to really dislike him, I think, but because he takes care of Junior, Tony has affection for him, and they have a mutual respect now.”

A basket of Italian bread is left on the table, and Schirripa takes a slice and butters it. I refrain, to save room for whatever’s coming, and because I want his take on whether Janice (if you don’t know who Janice is, you might as well skip ahead to the Cigar Review) loves Bobby.

“I think Janice (Aida Turturro) is such a nut,” he says. “I think she saw something that she never had, with the kids and everything. I think there’s a niche that needs to be filled. And I think she’s not stupid; Bobby’s on his way up in the family - he got a promotion - and she likes that. I don’t know if she loves him. You know, she’s only been with whackos - Ralphie (Joe Pantoliano), and Richie Aprile (David Proval). So I don’t know if she’s really attracted to a guy like that. I think she’s attracted to a guy who wants to put a gun to her head. She is one of the most despicable characters, possibly, in TV history.”

Vincenzo returns and puts down a plate of lobster salad. Not the kind of salad with mayo and chopped celery; just cut-up lobster meat. We both dig in. After a few forkfuls, as if reading my mind, he starts talking about the relationship of the cast members. “Somehow, [“Sopranos” creator] David Chase, - and I don’t know if he did it consciously or subconsciously - assembled a cast of people that, believe it or not, are close friends off-camera. We travel together; we go to dinner together. We actually enjoy each other’s company.

“I see us as a cast that has a lot of things in common. We spend a lot of time together, more off-season than on. We all support each other. We do some charity work. Recently, we auctioned off a lunch with the cast for this cancer foundation. Three of us went [to the auction]: myself, Michael Imperioli (Christopher Moltisanti) and John Ventimiglia (restaurateur Artie Bucco). The bidding started at $5,000, and we said ‘Okay, we’ll throw in Paulie Walnuts (Tony Sirico),’ and it went up. We said, ‘Alright, we’ll throw in Big Pussy (Vincent Pastore).’ Finally, we said, ‘Okay, Jim Gandolfini will come.’ So, after a guy won with a bid of $30 grand, we had to go back and call these guys. We didn’t even ask them ahead of time! It was in December, downtown, one of the coldest days of the year. Everybody showed up. And we had lunch with nine or 10 guys, who gave $30 grand, which I thought was pretty good.”

As the caprese and a plate of grilled zucchini, eggplant, and mushrooms are placed on our table, I realize talking to Schirripa is like talking about the show at the water cooler, with one small difference. In this case, the guy you’re talking to really knows what’s going to happen next. I feel obliged to pose him the question that I once asked legendary producer George Martin about the Beatles: Do you ever get tired of talking about “The Sopranos?”

“No, I don’t get tired,” he says, trying to wipe a small drop of oil off his pink silk shirt. He fails but seems unbothered. “I get tired of [repetitive] questions, like when people ask, ‘What’s gonna happen? Who’s gonna get killed?’ That kind of stuff. But to talk about the show itself, and the people involved, no I don’t. I was a fan of the show before I was on the show; I looked forward to watching it Sunday nights.”

Back in those days, Schirripa was the entertainment director at the Riviera Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. As I scarf up the last few pieces of lobster meat - no false modesty when lobster is concerned - I learn it was a combination of serendipity, luck, and talent that brought my well-traveled lunch companion to HBO on Sunday nights. Originally, he read for a role as an FBI guy instead of a wise guy. But the casting director had a different idea and asked him to read cold for the part of Bobby.

“I never told them I had a job, because I was afraid that if I said ‘I work in Vegas,’ they’d say, ‘Oh, we want a real actor.’ I waited and waited, they sent me the script, and I was reading, ‘You fat this,’ and ‘you fat that,’ ‘you fat cocksucker,’ and I said to my wife, ‘You know, I’m fat - but I’m not that fat. I don’t quite get it. I’m not much bigger than Jim [Gandolfini].’ And then they called and said, ‘Oh, by the way, you need to get fitted for a fat suit.’”

After pausing to enjoy the caprese’s tomato, mozzarella, and basil, he continues: “So I came in, they fitted me, and I shot the scene. It was kind of surreal. I flew myself in, put myself up in a hotel. The scene we shot was with me, Jim [Gandolfini] and Dominic Chianese (Uncle Junior) at the pork store. No one knew me, I didn’t know any of these guys, and it was like a ‘Let’s see what you got’ kind of thing. I wasn’t nervous, because I had been prepared, but once I finished the scene, and it turned out great, I was in their club. Much later, the three of us shot a scene, and Jim said, ‘Come on, let’s go run lines in my trailer,’ and as we were sitting there, I was saying to myself, ‘How the hell did I wind up here? I mean, I’m watching these guys on TV, and now I’m in the trailer with them?’ I’d been around celebrities before, but now I was a peer.”

The waiter clears our plates, and the man Schirripa had been talking to on the street walks over with apologies for interrupting us. He asks Schirripa about some pictures he wants for his son, and the “Sopranos” star says it’s no trouble, he’ll drop them off in a day or so. After he leaves I mention to Schirripa how much I enjoy the use of music and especially the theme song - and, of course, Tony’s ever-present cigar.

DINING WITH THE SOPRANOS - Schirripa in character as Bobby “Bacala” Baccalieri with fellow cast members James Gandolfini (Tony Soprano)and Aida Turturro (Janice Soprano).

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