A Philly restaurant came clean about its Health Department shutdown. Was that the right call?

As the health inspector left Cafe Michelangelo in the Far Northeast last week, she affixed a “cease operations” sticker to the front door, ordering the restaurant to close for at least 48 hours.

Co-owner Giuliano Verrecchia got an idea.

He would come clean.

Chastened by the report’s findings and mindful of his restaurant’s previous dodgy health inspections this year, Verrecchia decided to go public and explain all 16 violations, one by one.

This would be a bold, uncommon strategy. Typically, as word of a shutdown spreads through social media, restaurateurs play defense while users pillory the establishment.

“I wanted to put my side out there and be transparent,” Verrecchia said, adding that he considered some of the cited issues “a bit misleading.” He and his manager, Danielle Runner, printed out the inspection report, added commentary, and posted it to Michelangelo’s Facebook page on Dec. 4, the day after the shutdown.

Addressed to “all of our amazing customers,” the post on Michelangelo’s profile paired the exact wording of the health report’s violations with Verrecchia’s own explanation (and redress or occasional rebuttal). He detailed 16 violations, including “peeling paint observed on walls in one of the women’s restroom areas” (“Bathrooms and storage areas were repainted yesterday,” he explained) and “ice build-up observed in the first-floor walk-in cooler unit” (“removed ice build-up,” he wrote).

Reaction to the post was mostly positive. Customers replied with words of support. Some commenters — several of whom identified as food-service industry workers — downplayed the inspector’s finding, describing them as minor.

(In a Facebook post earlier that day, the restaurant described the violations as “non-hazardous,” which was not entirely accurate.)

On Friday, Dec. 5, Michelangelo passed its reinspection, paid a $315 fee, and prepared to reopen. Verrecchia held his breath. Would the public respect his attempt at transparency?

In 1992, brothers Michael and Angelo DiSandro combined their names to open a family-friendly Italian restaurant, complete with bocce courts and room for 250 guests, in a Somerton strip center. By Northeast Philadelphia standards, Cafe Michelangelo was years ahead of its time, serving espresso and brick-oven pizza. Angelo DiSandro died in 2012, and Michael has stepped aside from the day-to-day operation.

Verrecchia, 56, a nephew, oversees the restaurant, which has a bar in a rear dining room as well as a newer second bar on a covered, heated patio. There’s live music at least three days a week. Michelangelo’s business, like that at many older restaurants, hasn’t been the same since the pandemic. Rising food prices and labor costs have cut margins, and competition has become keener. Customers can get a world of cuisine delivered via apps.

To boost traffic, Verrecchia offers a $15 lunch buffet Tuesday to Friday with two pastas, two proteins, salads, and pizza. Over dinner, the calamari, the parm dishes, and pizzas still move, but he said his customers are cautious about spending. He still sells bigger-ticket items — steak, rack of lamb, whole fish — “but I’m not charging you $45,” Verrecchia said. “I’m charging you $37 and I’m not making money on it, but if you want a steak and the kid wants pizza? You got a home run.”

Michelangelo reopened the same day it passed its reinspection. The phone rang over the weekend. It was a group of teachers canceling their large annual party. Then another big order fell through.

Neither cited a reason. Business was down about 25% on Friday, the restaurant’s first day back, and remained soft Saturday. There was a slight improvement Sunday. The restaurant is closed Mondays. Tuesday was slow again, which Verrecchia partly attributed to cold weather. He said it was too soon to tell what was driving this.

In interviews, Verrecchia said he acknowledged that some of the inspector’s findings required attention, but added: “I don’t think those issues put customers in jeopardy.”

“You as a layman read what they wrote and you get scared,” he said. “I wanted to explain what’s really meant.”

He cited rules about labeling containers as an example. “If [the inspector comes in] at 11:30 [a.m.] and my guys are prepping, some things won’t have labels because they have to open them up,” he said.

Verrecchia said he was cited for some issues that had been addressed previously, including cracked floors observed in the kitchen preparation area. “I had already fixed it and showed her,” he said. The report called out a chest freezer that was not commercial-grade. “I fixed that, too, but it still showed up again as if nothing had been done.”

“She made some valid observations,” he said. “I’m not denying that. But the wording in those reports can sound scarier than it really is if people don’t understand the terminology.”

But given its inspections in 2025, Cafe Michelangelo’s record showed mounting problems.

This also was not the restaurant’s first involuntary closure. In February 2023, an inspector cited repeated violations, including improper food labeling, missing temperature controls, rodent activity, improper food storage, and sanitation problems such as grease on walls near the hood, food debris and mouse droppings in the basement, damaged flooring, and missing wall tiles. The restaurant also was cited for using plastic crates to elevate beverages in the takeout area.

Cafe Michelangelo was allowed to reopen four days after that 2023 reinspection, and a follow-up two months later found no serious violations.

At the next inspection, Feb. 27, 2025, four risk-factor violations were noted: missing handwashing supplies, a dirty ice machine, missing date-marking, and unlabeled chemicals. All were corrected on site.

By Sept. 11, the violation count had risen to six and included flies throughout the facility, shellfish storage and record-keeping problems, and significant structural and equipment issues. The Health Department ordered a reinspection.

On Oct. 29, many of the same issues appeared again as repeat violations, and a certified food-safety manager was not on-site at the start of the inspection.

On Dec. 3, the inspector pointed out unsafe cooling of salads and onions, along with unresolved pest, handwashing, and facility problems — all what are deemed “imminent health hazards.” She also logged six risk-factor violations, which include any violation that increases the likelihood of foodborne illness; three of them were repeats. Two and a half hours after the inspector walked in, Michelangelo was shut down.

Verrecchia said the inspection issues were a wake-up call. He said he has tightened oversight throughout the restaurant, which employs about 30 people.

“I’m on it every single night now,” he said. “I’m re-educating my team. I’ve got to be more diligent. If I [mess] up, I admit it. I [messed] up. I’m human.”

He is now conducting mock inspections at the end of the day. “I walk through everything, write up what’s wrong, and then go over it with the staff in the morning,” he said.

He also has begun purchasing new equipment, including wall-mounted metal shelving and fruit-fly traps where required.

Verrecchia said he is standing by his decision to go public.

“If I didn’t think it was right, I wouldn’t have done it,” he said. “I can’t afford to shut down again — and I’m not going to.”