The feud itself is lamentable, and sad.

But, what struck me was a comment by "Aaron Stein, a 28-year-old grad student,... "This place has a more authentic Italian feel, like... mobsters hanging out..."

In other words: authentic Italian= mobsters !!!!  Even in a mere Sandwich shop???

How could anyone of any intellect and awareness not realize, and dispute that we Italian Americans have a SERIOUS "Stereotype" Problem???? 
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PICKING SIDES IN THE HERO SANDWICH WAR
The New York Times
By Lydia Polgreen
September 22, 2002

Will it be the mile-high special at Manganaro's Hero-Boy, a sloppy mess of soppressata, salami, mortadella, peppers and provolone on Italian bread? Or will it be the Sicilian Salami, taleggio and roasted peppers on focaccia from Manganaro Foods? 

The choice may not remain for long. So the faithful old customers, the curious onlookers and the neighborhood busybodies came out on Ninth Avenue in Hell's Kitchen yesterday to see what might be the last gasp of one of the city's longest and messiest food fights. 

"I was curious," said Ken Stiller, 33, a banker who lives in the West Village, who waited for a roast beef with everything from Hero-Boy. "How could two brothers not speak for so long over a sandwich?"

Yesterday there were few signs that the feud was coming to an end. A placard on the marble counter at Salvatore Dell'Orto's place still says: "Manganaro Foods is not affiliated with Hero-Boy!" And the gold-lettered sign above James Dell'Orto's Manganaro's Hero-Boy still says it is home of the original six-foot sandwich, an oblique jab at his older brother next door. 

You would never know that the quarter-century feud between the brothers over who has the right to use a family name to sell huge sandwiches was close to being over. During lunch, cars parked by the hydrant that sits right between the two Manganaro stores. Drivers chose their sandwich almost reflexively. No one, it seemed, was neutral. 

Sow Cheikh eased his yellow taxi to the curb shortly before noon, flipped on his flashers and headed straight for Hero-Boy, emerging with a chicken Parmesan sandwich. He has been stopping here after dropping off passengers at the nearby Port Authority Bus Terminal for seven years. 

"I never go to the other one," he said, pointing to Manganaro Foods. "It looks old and not as good."

Where Mr. Cheikh saw old and tired, Aaron Stein, a 28-year-old graduate student, saw Old World charm. "This place has a more authentic Italian feel, like you would see mobsters hanging out in the back," he said. 

A proposed out-of-court settlement could end the feud between Salvatore, 74, and his youngest brother, James, 66, who until a 10-minute telephone conversation on Thursday had not spoken in 25 years. Under the agreement Sal would close his business, cede all business rights to the Manganaro name and transfer his highly-publicized telephone-order line to his younger brother, Jimmy. In return, he forgoes collecting close to half a million dollars in court-awarded damages. The two sides are set to meet face to face tomorrow. 

Customers of the century-old grocery lamented the thought of it closing. "They are such a part of the neighborhood," said Jody Weissman, an administrative assistant who has lived in the neighborhood for 25 years. "It's the original building and it just has so much charm. I would hate to see it go." 

The shop has seen its revenues decline. 

Last year Salvatore Dell'Orto told a reporter that his yearly take was half what it had been a decade ago. The feud contributed to the shop's flagging fortunes, but changes in the neighborhood did not help either. Hell's Kitchen once teemed with small shops catering to working-class immigrant families who lived here. But in the past decade, Hell's Kitchen has been rechristened Clinton and high-rise luxury apartments have replaced tenements. In that transformation, establishments like the renovated Manganaro's Hero-Boy, a gleaming 180-seat restaurant, seemed more at home than an old Italian shop with dried salami hanging from hooks, wheels of asiago resting on marble counters and rows of tins of anchovies and tomatoes. 

Or so thought Paul Fusaro, a firefighter at nearby Engine Company 34, who has been coming here to get sandwiches for years. At first he was loyal to Manganaro Foods, the old-school choice. But once Hero-Boy was renovated a few years ago. Mr. Fusaro made the switch. 

"This one has a better selection," he said, pointing to Manganaro Foods. "But the prices are better here," he said, holding up a Manganaro's Hero-Boy shopping bag that held his favorite sandwich — eggplant Parmesan. "This whole feud is just crazy. You'd think after what happened in this city people would set these things aside. But not these guys. It's really something."