Nowadays, authenticity is a deeply-celebrated concept. People want to have authentic experiences while on vacation; to see authentic culture and not tourist-trap fodder. We want authentic stories told by people who have experienced the topics they’re writing about, instead of cliches and hokey melodrama. And of course, when we eat at the hot new restaurants opening up in our towns, the more authentic the cuisine they serve is to the culture it comes from, the better. In a way, authenticity is a synonym for ‘good,’ or at least ‘worthwhile.’ Why bother experiencing something if it isn’t authentic?
But, conversely, is inauthenticity always bad? I love good, authentic Mexican food, but I also unashamedly really enjoy Taco Bell – a restaurant about as authentic to Mexican cuisine as a Chuck E. Cheese token is to money. Does that make enjoying it bad? Absolutely not. There’s a time and a place for everything, and sometimes you want to see a cover band instead of the real article. Sometimes you want a birria taco, and sometimes you want a Crunchwrap Supreme. And this is a long-winded way of introducing y’all to the Berkeley Bernardi: the Beefaroni of Cars.
The Bernardi is a kit car that was marketed by Blakely Auto Works in the 1980s. Initially starting off selling Lotus Seven replicas, the Bernardi was the third and final model introduced by the company before going out of business sometime late in the decade. As with all kit car manufacturers, hard dates and specific details are hard to come by; even this specific car didn’t have any identifying information on it, unlike most of the other cars at this show. But we can say for certain that Blakely isn’t making kits anymore, and hasn’t done so for a long time. And based on what I can find on the Internet, most Bernardis were made somewhere around 1983, so that’s what we’re going with for the model year for this example.
The Bernardi was named for Enrico Bernardi, the inventor of the modern internal combustion engine. But despite its namesake and the Italian flag badges this car wears, it’s distinctly an American creation. Blakely was based out of Wisconsin, and the Bernardi’s mechanical bits were to be sourced from a Ford donor car – generally a Pinto or a Mustang II. Even the styling can’t be said to be Italian, as it very much derives its looks from classic British roadsters – particularly the MG TD.
And yet here the Bernardi sits, chilling next to a Lamborghini Espada in the Italian section of the Pittsburgh Vintage Grand Prix. Don’t the organizers know it’s an American car?!?
Well, so much of what we call ‘Italian cuisine’ nowadays has very little to do with the old country, either. Spaghetti and meatballs was invented in New York City, as was the archetypal cheese pizza. And Chef Hector Boiardi introduced Middle America to Italian food through his canned offerings in the supermarket, such as our aforementioned Beefaroni. Sure, all of these dishes were made by Italian immigrants who took inspiration from the cuisine of their ancestral home, but they’re all wholly American creations. Chef Hector even went as far as to change how his last name was spelled on his products – Boyardee – to help Americans pronounce the brand of canned pasta they were eating.
None of these things, including the Blakely Bernardi, can really be said to be authentically Italian. But does that really matter? We can still enjoy them, and they’re still important and good. Sure, we shouldn’t try to pass them off as an original, but a simulacrum of something can be enjoyed just as much as the real thing. Most of us have only seen pictures of famous works of art, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy them as much as someone seeing them in person in a museum can.
And generally, a send-up of something is often easier to experience than the real article. Hence why so many of these Neo-Classical replicars came into being in this era – most common people couldn’t attain a genuine vintage roadster, and even if they could, they’re very difficult to live with. The Ford Lima engine isn’t exactly glamorous, but I’m sure it’s much less of a headache to maintain than an actual British sports car engine. And no matter what your roadster is underneath, it’s still a roadster, and embodies driving pleasure at its purest.
But despite its inauthenticity, the Berkley Bernadi is still plenty quirky – I mean, how could you not love a car with three windshield wipers! And the irony is that a lot of these retro-styled kit cars are genuine classic cars on their own now, regardless of what their inspiration is. It’s not as pedigreed as a little British sports car from the 1950s is, but 40 years isn’t an age to sneeze at in the automotive world, either. As the separating rubber on this car’s running boards shows, it’s got real age to it, and like all old things, they can tell us a lot about the time they came from.
image source: imcdb.org
Contrary to what nostalgic pop culture shows, the 80s weren’t all neon and synthwave; there were also a lot of folks in the nouveau riche who wanted to show how tasteful and refined they were. And what better way to do that than to own tasteful things from earlier eras? Hence why the star car in the music video for Tears for Fears’ Everybody Wants to Rule the World was an Austin-Healey. The 80s were when our idea of ‘Classic Cars’ as the cars of the 50s and 60s took root, and when you couldn’t, or didn’t want to, buy the real deal, you bought a Blakely. Or an Excalibur. Or any one of the zillions of fiberglass Cobra replicas out there.
What matters is this car is still being loved and used and driven by its owner, and is being showcased now for our enjoyment. Even though I could tell right off the bat that this was a more modern automobile than it claimed to be, it still brought a smile to my face, and I snapped more pictures of it than any of the Ferraris further up the hill from where this red roadster sat.
Just because you enjoy fine Italian cuisine, it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a bowl of Beefaroni every once in a while, either. Both have their purpose, and both are good.
Arrivederci.
Well, you make a number of good points here. When it comes to cars and food (and I suppose a bunch of other things), if it’s yours, and you like it, then go with that. Someone probably loves that Bernardi…enough to enter it in a car show…and that alone deserves recognition.
I was approximately the age of those kids in the Beefaroni commercial when that commercial originally aired. I loved seeing it, on daytime TV, during times that (I can now guess) my mom sat me down in front of the TV to either watch soaps with her or to get me off her hands for a while as I watched Lucy or the Dick Van Dyke show. I knew every word of that Beefaroni song, although it never occurred to me that the kids were in Rome. I just wondered where one could get a delicious/nutritious lunch served at such a giant table. Outdoors. With pigeons.
Beefaroni was ok, but I preferred the canned lasagna (same thing as Beefaroni, just a different shape) or the canned macaroni and cheese. We went through a lot of that stuff in the 1960s. On special occasions, mom would make one of the Chef’s boxed pizzas. This avoided having to order pizza, something which my mom was loath to do since she thought that pizza places were “dirty” and questionable things went on in the back with regard to the food. Foods that came out of boxes from the supermarket were clearly superior.
Back to the Bernardi; I wonder if anyone has organized a show of JUST replicars. These things are fascinating (sometimes in a good way) when they turn up and they really ought to have their own venue.
Sadly I never got to try any of those ‘Boyardee’ products in the 60’s, my mates told me they were great .
This little car looks interesting, the nose and grille a bit truck like but fun never the less .
-Nate
For some reason, I’m more appreciative of kit cars now then I was back when these were made. Now, they seem like fascinating artifacts – and I’m particularly interested in examples like this one that aren’t based off a VW chassis, even it it’s something as mundane as a Pinto.
There are a few things I’d like to know about these 1980s kit cars. For instance, what proportion of buyers assembled the cars themselves vs. buying them pre-made from a distributor or the factory? Also, just who did these cars appeal to when new? My guess is that empty-nesters comprised a pretty big chunk of these cars’ purchasers. After all, the cars weren’t exactly cheap, and appealed to folks’ sentimentality towards relatively recent decades. A 1980s car imitating the ’50s would be like a modern car imitating the 1990s… which is entertaining to think about.
That said, I love the irony of this Wisconsin-based Pinto kit living among the Italians at this show. And I credit the owner for upping the Italian theme a few notches by affixing the Sicilian Coat of Arms to the grille.
Finally, it’s amusing that you should mention both Chef Boyardee and Taco Bell. Last week, one of our fellow CC authors wrote an article on his own blog about Chef Boyardee and its origins with Mr. Boiardi. I knew none of this, and also hadn’t thought of Chef Boyardee food in a mighty long time. So after reading about the firm’s history, I bought a few cans of Boyardee ravioli. The taste instantly brought back memories, and it’s really not bad. Unrelatedly, I was reading last week about Taco Bell’s founding, and didn’t realize the company’s founder was named Glen Bell, hence the restaurant’s name.
We NEVER ate canned spaghetti when I was growing up. Although my mom was not a great cook and we ate a lot of prepared foods (and my dad never went in the kitchen), she had visited Italy twice before I was born (including when I was in utero) and loved Italian food, even though the closest we got was frozen lasagna or spaghetti with hamburger, canned tomatoes, and dried Italian seasoning.
BTW there are a couple of references to Blakely in this post as “Berkeley”. Presumably autocorrected. The better-known Berkeley was another fiberglass sports car, though neither American nor Italian (though there was a fiberglass Berkeley kit car from Berkeley California).
I can appreciate this Bernardi for what it is, but no, I’ll pass on the Beefaroni or anything else from Chef Boyardee. I had a lifetime’s worth of his canned goods as a kid, mainly on Boy Scout camping trips. Heating up a can over a smoky open fire didn’t add to the experience.
You’re quite right about the ’80s; they were a time when folks suddenly wanted to have what authentic connoisseurs had, and hoped that the prestige value would rub off on them. Not so, but many of them didn’t get that at the time. They mostly didn’t understand that genuine prestige comes from having the real thing. Oh well. It was fun to watch it happening in real time.
And now folks mostly know better and there’s plenty of money to buy the real things.
Haha, the CC effect? I just wrote about Ettore (Hector) Boiardi last week. (https://jpcavanaugh.com/2024/08/16/a-century-of-chef-boy-ar-dee/). Summary: it was the closest thing to Italian food I got as a kid. The Beefaroni was OK, but ravioli was my fave.
Actually, I think Chef Boy-ar-dee had more Italian heritage than this car. The canned food’s namesake was at least a real Italian Immigrant who was a legit Italian chef in the 1910’s and 20’s. But I love the Beefaroni analogy – I think that stuff came long after Chef B let go of his company in 1946.
When I read the headline, the jingle started going thru my mind: “We’re having Beefaroni, it’s made with macaroni.” At least it hasn’t become an earworm.
In the mid-1970s the San Francisco Examiner‘s restaurant critic R. B. Read wrote that there’s an Italian-restaurant-in-America cuisine, and it’s a good cuisine in its own right, but it’s not authentic Italian cuisine.
Would you rather have something made by Ettore Boiardi, or by Ettore Bugatti?
it’s hard to explain, but I actually like the fact it isn’t trying to look exactly like a 30’s car, it’s like a 40’s car from a parallel universe where WW2 didn’t happen. Well that’s my take on it anyway.
Good point about being ‘authentic’.In the non-car universe if I want ‘authentic’ I`ll shun touristy places like Disney ‘parks’, faceless entertainers like Taylor Swift, reality TV shows, Domino`s pizza, and crass eateries like ‘Olive Garden’ restaurants.
Olive Garden is the Taco-Bell of Italian food.
More like Taco HELL.
I agree on all accounts…except for Taylor.
I’m not so sure she’s faceless, and regardless, producing more $ than the GDP of several countries does qualify her for some recognition.
At least more than Olive Garden.
As somebody who had a part time second job for 6 years cooking in a highly successful Italian restaurant, I won’t comment on Boy-R-Dee products. But this goofy car would make a cool home for the Toyota 18R-G twin cam engine collecting dust in the corner of the garage 🙂
These kit cars all have a kind of generic profile, and they were built as replicas of various different marques, MG, Jaguar, Mercedes, and Fraser Nash. Some were built as pure replicas without referencing a vintage make.
Any small open car will provide a fun driving experience, at least for a short time. I spent a lot of time, and rode a lot of miles on motorcycles in my youth. Any car would have to be more comfortable than that.
This Bernardi has some nice detailing, the grille looks to be well constructed, the bumpers are made of chromed octagonal tubing, the dash has a wood insert, and the lighting is not recycled VW units. I am more accepting of these replicas as I’ve gotten older. They look to be fun and an affordable way to own a distinctive vehicle. Though I’d be worried about their safety when driven in traffic.
Even Model Ts and Duesenbergs were “replicated”!
It looks like a TD had a baby with an IH truck; dad’s nose and mom’s butt.
Kit cars are like those kit pizzas, they are what you make of them. If you made it far enough in advance to let the dough rise and punched it down like a real pizza that’s what you got. Everything about the packaging and marketing promised instant convenience food, though, so most people ended up with dry, textureless crust that absorbed the sauce.
Excellent point and analogy!!