ITALY: Battle of the Beach

In all Europe there is no street quite so lively, quite so cosmopolitan or quite so zany as Rome’s Via Veneto—the broad, tree lined avenue known to Italy’s American colony as “the Beach.” And for a decade past, the heart of the Beach has been the polyglot, block-long Caffé Doney. There in the soft Roman night, Italians and tourists alike sat till the wee hours beneath bright sidewalk umbrellas, sipping whisky, apéritifs or coffee, and watching the Via Veneto’s endless parade of smartly dressed girls, pomaded gigolos and international celebrities, ranging from Brazilian Playboy “Baby” Pignatari to Hollywood’s Clark Gable.

Last week for devotees of the Beach all around the world, there was earth-shaking news: Doney’s was no longer unquestioned monarch of the Via Veneto. The challenger: the bustling Café de Paris, which occupies the sidewalk opposite Doney’s, and for the last few months has been looking more and more like a winner.

Chief strategist for the Café de Paris is smoothly handsome Manager Nicola di Nozzi, 44, who learned his trade in Manhattan’s Quo Vadis restaurant. Di Nozzi’s first significant victory over Doney’s was gained by capturing the patronage of shapely Artist Novella Parigini (TIME, Jan. 25, 1954), famed both for her slickly painted nudes and for her girl friends who wear tight slacks, wild hairdos, and exude the sort of animal magnetism that , draws crowds on the Via Veneto. Another Di Nozzi inspiration was the ivory telephones that Café de Paris waiters plug in at the tables. This won the Café de Paris the patronage of many of Rome’s ubiquitous movie agents, one of whom cheerily explained: “I can get on the horn there if I want to.”

Bit by bit, Roman nobles began drifting into the Café de Paris, too, and nowadays Principessa Giovanelli, Marchese Bottini and assorted Orsinis and Caracciolos are regularly paged over the Café’s new loudspeakers. Says a less exalted Roman who recently abandoned his longtime table at Doney’s: “I like Americans. But I like my Roman friends, too. And the place to see them is at the Café de Paris.” Inevitably, more and more Americans in Rome are beginning to take the same line. Said one two-week tourist: “I like to watch strange people, so I go to the Café de Paris. Doney’s is too touristy.”

Most ominous shift in the tide of battle came not long ago when Director Federico (La Strada) Fellini shot a long sequence for his new film La Dolce Vita in front of the Café de Paris. Last year he would have used Doney’s for his background. But the management of Caffé Doney is not panicking. Surveying his tourist-crowded tables last week, a Doney manager said disdainfully: “When people ask us where the Café de Paris is, we tell them.”