Mulberry Street was the beating heart of the Italian-American experience, but you don't find those gangsters now. I live with a bunch of yuppies and models.
I would like just one time to be on the cover of Italian Vogue.
My mother is not a CIA agent, but she's an Italian mother, and she'd do anything for her son.
I grew up in Queens in N.Y., and in parts of my neighbourhood, there were a lot of Italian Americans and a lot of people who were either affiliated with nefarious people or had seen so many movies that they were embodying that.
If I hosted a high tea at home it would be an Italian aperitivo-style high tea. I'd make little meatballs with lemon puree and mozzarella centres. Or maybe little schnitzel sliders with coleslaw.
Coming from an Italian family, my parents had supermarkets and they said I had to take over as any son should take over the family business - I copped a lot of flak when I said 'no.'
I was born and raised in New York, but my family on both sides is of Italian descent.
My favorite foods are anything Italian.
As an Italian-American, I have a special responsibility to be sensitive to ethnic stereotypes.
I remember acting in a school play about the melting pot when I was very little. There was a great big pot onstage. On the other side of the pot was a little girl who had dark hair, and she and I were representing the Italians. And I thought: Is that what an Italian looked like?