Carmy Berzatto | |
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Portrayed by | Jeremy Allen White |
In-universe information | |
Full name | Carmen Anthony Berzatto |
Nickname | Carmy, Carm, Bear, Chef, Jeff, Neph |
Occupation | Chef, restaurateur |
Carmen Anthony Berzatto, typically called Carmy, Carm, Bear, Chef, or Jeff, is a fictional character on the FX Network television series The Bear . Created by Christopher Storer and played by Jeremy Allen White since the show's premiere in 2022, Carmy is a nationally acclaimed chef who returns home to Chicago to run his family's failing Italian beef sandwich restaurant after the death of his older brother. White has received multiple Emmy and Golden Globe awards for his portrayal of the sometimes-troubled cook, who attempts to salvage the family business while simultaneously reconstructing long-neglected family relationships with his sister and their "cousin," all with help from a talented young chef who joins the restaurant crew in the pilot episode. Carmy is plagued by the conflicting demands of his trauma and his talent, all while trying to launch a business that will save his sister Sugar from losing her house to the tax man and keep his "found family" off of the proverbial unemployment line. The show, originally a hero's journey structured around the travails of stranger-comes-to-town Carmy, eventually reveals itself as an ensemble piece about "the need for love to drive the act of cooking, but also [the various ways] love makes itself known through such an act." [1]
Carmy is a talented young chef who inherits a low-class sandwich shop in the River North neighborhood of Chicago, Illinois, United States, from his recently deceased, drug-dependent brother Michael "Mikey" Berzatto (Jon Bernthal) and sets to work turning it into a respectable place of business. [2] Carmy has been described as a prototypical prodigal son, [3] with not a little "conquering hero" in him as well, such that "Carmy is greeted with ambivalence by the friends and family he left behind for the...pretensions of haute cuisine." [4] Allen has stated that Carmy initially comes home without "much of an identity outside of his profession." [5]
Carmy is known as one of the great chefs of his age: "ambitious and creative, and...so gifted that nearly everyone who's ever eaten his food thinks it's among the best they've ever had" [6] —such that "people are willing to forgive his flaws just to be in his presence, to absorb his knowledge." [2] Carmy was trained at the French Laundry in California's Napa Valley, Noma in Copenhagen, Restaurant Daniel in New York, and by the fictional Michelin-starred Andrea Terry (Olivia Colman) at a fictionalized version of Chicago's own Ever. In 2024 a Food & Wine writer commented, "I think it's frustrating for many reasons that the only real big-name chefs who were shown to mentor Carmy were white men, and the only woman had to be invented, even if she's written excellently." [7] Carmy Berzatto is a past winner of Food & Wine 's Best New Chef in very early adulthood, and in 2018 won a James Beard Foundation Award for his work at a restaurant called Fairest Creatures in Malibu, California. [8] [9] He did a stint at Eleven Madison Park in New York City. [10] [11] He has served as the chef de cuisine at the best restaurants in the country. [9] He retained three stars at Michelin-awarded restaurants but has never been awarded a star in his own right. A satiric metacommentary review of the Bear restaurant in Chicago magazine nonetheless predicted that Carmy "is in the express lane, headed straight for his first Michelin star." [12]
He is a "resourceful businessman," albeit somewhat challenged by what appears to be dyscalculia; basic arithmetic, if not simple counting, eludes him entirely. [13] [14] [15] He also likely has some mild degree of dyslexia but nothing to prevent him from amassing a dense collection of food memoirs, food journalism, food science, works on the sociology and anthropology of food culture, and cookbooks, which according to a quasi-forensic examination by Food & Wine editors, show that Carmy is: [16]
"...deeply steeped in French technique á la the Troisgros Brothers, Pierre Gagnaire, Jacques Maximin , Joël Robuchon, Jacques Pépin, Sébastien Bras, and their peers. It veers toward Scandinavian precision with a whole suite of René Redzepi tomes (though pastry chef Marcus keeps copies stashed out of harm's way on a shelf above his work station) and the works of Magnus Nilsson and Christian Puglisi. It trips into molecular whimsy via el Bulli, wends over to Japan to meditate on the methods of Masaharu Morimoto and Shizuo Tsuji ; goes fancy Cali with 1988 F&W Best New Chef Thomas Keller, Alice Waters, and 2009 F&W Best New Chef Christopher Kostow; and finds soul and root in Italian and Italian American home cook fare as well as the works of African American scholars like Dr. Jessica B. Harris and Toni Tipton-Martin." [16]
Foodies love eyeballing Carmy's book collection. After a mass-market paperback edition of Anthony Bourdain's 2000 Kitchen Confidential surfaced at Carmy's mom's house in season four, one food writer noted some faves he'd seen scattered throughout Carmy's apartment and the restaurant over the course of the show: "two copies of Black Power Kitchen, Peppers of the Americas, Kaiseki: Zen Tastes in Japanese Cooking, The Hungry Eye: Eating, Drinking, and European Culture from Rome to the Renaissance by Leonard Barka, Africola by Duncan Welgemoed, Ottolenghi's Jerusalem (one of my favorites), and on the right hand lower shelf I spied The Flavor Thesaurus." [17] The shelving of the books has no rhyme or reason; one theory is that "Maybe the staff reshelves haphazardly. [Carmy's] quite generous with his knives. Maybe cookbooks too." [16] (There is reason to believe that Richie borrowed Carmy's copy of Unreasonable Hospitality by Will Guidara in the course of "Forks" and replaced it with a book about the films of his hero Ridley Scott.) [18]
A less-publicized aspect of his creativity is his skill as a visual artist; Carmy fills a series of food journals "with beautiful drawings of ingredients he's worked with and meals he's imagined." [1]
In addition to cooking and running the business, Carmy navigates relationships with his sister Natalie Berzatto Katinsky, whom he calls Sugar (Abby Elliott), his dead brother's best friend Richie Jerimovich (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), new-hire sous chef Sydney "Syd" Adamu (Ayo Edebiri), and the existing staff of the Beef, described as a "ragtag team of initially recalcitrant veteran cooks." [19] [20] Carmy and his surviving sibling, older sister Sugar, are quite close and have a warm, sensitive, funny relationship. [21] "Shug," as he calls her, looks out for his emotional well-being and eventually gets involved in running the family restaurant, a business she had loathed when it was under Michael's management. [22] According to White, Carmy often "feels incapable of reaching back, or being like, accepting" of Sugar's love, whereas Elliott has suggested that Sugar's expressiveness sometimes comes from a place of desperation, "like, 'Please don't leave me here with our family.'" [23]
Richie and Carmy call each other cousin even though they are not biologically related. [24] Richie was a long-time manager of the Beef alongside Mikey. [24] He ran the place with "F-bomb-dropping, gun-toting swagger." [25] Richie initially resented that the restaurant had been bequeathed to the long-absent Carmy instead of to him. The staff of the Beef were all but raw recruits when Carmy arrived at the restaurant, but in direct contravention of the often-toxic chefs who trained them, Carmy and his partner Chef Sydney both recognized and cultivated "strength in the crew that [they] have, rather than focusing on their weaknesses." [26] Richie led the vanguard of the kitchen's opposition to Carmy's succession to his brother's throne; he declares that Carmy's years of nearly militaristic discipline and grueling labor have made him "pretentious, delusional, and a fucking sissy." [27] By season two, as Carmy invested heavily in staff development, the ways he nurtured, challenged, and impeded the various members of his "found family" were a major element of his character arc. [28] For instance he paid to send Beef cooks to culinary school (tuition at the school depicted is $8,400), which one GQ writer and former restaurateur described as "maybe the most insane part" of season two. [29] (In season three, the Bear also sent Sweeps to "wine school" for sommelier training.) [30] [31] Carmy seems to be "quite generous," [16] giving Tina his hand-forged imported-from-Japan-to-one-store-in-California chef's knife, [32] and commissioning custom chef whites from fashion designer Thom Browne for his partner Sydney. [33]
Despite his character flaws, the terminally self-loathing Carmy is ultimately animated by love for his family, and thus, he (with partners Sydney, Richard, and Natalie) is largely successful in his attempts to create a hospitable environment at the Bear: "The people within its walls did not necessarily choose to come together, nor do they necessarily leave their baggage at the door. But they are never alone, and together they create an atmosphere of precision, pleasure, and unity that is difficult to replicate elsewhere or under different circumstances." [15] Carmy reaps more than a few benefits of this himself, as "people heal in community and through the relationships they've built." [13]
Despite his "fundamental decency," Carmy's insecurity and intermittent temper tantrums result in isolation for him and distress for his family and coworkers. [2] Some of Carmy's travails can be traced his dysfunctional upbringing as the neglected youngest child of an alcoholic mother, Donna (Jamie Lee Curtis), leaving him prone to workaholism, panic attacks, and dissociation. [13] [34] It is a truism, after all, that "children of alcoholics, whether they drink or not, tend to behave like alcoholics." [25] (Carmy appears to drink little or no alcohol, and unlike Mikey, he and Nat appear to have dodged, so far, any substance-abuse problems.) The first name of the father of the Berzatto kids is unknown; he abandoned the family "probably sometime in the 1990s." [35] Uncle Jimmy "Cicero" Kalinowski (Oliver Platt), who was "Pop" Berzatto's best friend, last talked to the dad "about 20 years ago" (from 2022). [36] Per Jimmy, Pop drank, did drugs, gambled, and "just insisted on doing stupid fuckin shit all the time." [36] He had "a new career every 10 minutes," including becoming a restaurateur, apparently inspired by the success of Ed Debevic's, which resulted in his investment in the Original Beef of Chicagoland. [36] Eater Chicago has suggested that the Original Beef was established in the 1980s, under Pop's management, before it became Mikey's problem. [10] Upon returning to Chicago Carmy reconnected with Richie and Jimmy, but other, more distant relatives and friends of the family charged him with being a "fuckin loser" for working in a restaurant, and conflated him with Mikey. ("I thought you'd killed yourself." "No, sir, that was my brother.") [37] Carmy remained "no contact" with his mother until near the end of season four, when he visited her house for the first time in many years. [4]
Los Angeles Times television critic Robert Lloyd described Carmy as an "ailing but admirable" young man who is built around a "core of sadness" but "happily free of...arrogance, unkindness, substance abuse, sexual predation...He is secure in what he knows and honest with his employees, who do not always appreciate it." [38] Some observers have asserted that Carmy exhibits symptoms of complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD). [39] [40] He had a pronounced stutter in childhood; verbal disfluency re-emerges in the adult Carmy when he is exposed to people or situations that remind him of the neglect and abuse of his youth. [41] Naming and articulating his feelings, and speaking up for himself in the face of emotional manipulation, remain enduring challenges for Carmy; he "stutters and staggers" through interpersonal relationships, falling back on "I'm trying" when he fails to reveal himself or connect with his nearest and dearest. [13] [42] Behaviors exhibited throughout the series and personal characteristics he mentions in a seven-minute monologue at an Al-Anon meeting in season one (including difficulties paying attention, difficulties in school, and difficulties making friends) suggest to some viewers that Carmy should be categorized as a neurodivergent person. [43] [40] He has exacerbated his existing social struggles with a habit of viewing professional colleagues as competitors and threats to be defeated. [28] Plagued with perfectionism, and unresolved grief over the suicide of his idolized, charismatic, tormented, mentally ill, drug-addicted older brother, [44] Carmy compartmentalizes his feelings in favor of the grinding labor of the kitchen and periodically sabotages his own happiness in order to minimize his potential exposure to any emotion. [45] The sound editing team for The Bear commented in 2025 that "we usually try to take it, panic attack by panic attack, because sometimes with Carmy, he's often alone when he's having a panic attack. It's a panic attack of loneliness." [46]
His work in "extremely high pressure" kitchens under "cruel bosses" likely contributed to a belief that "a single mistake will result in humiliation, punishment, and being judged as unable to meet the demands of the job." [47] Under stress, he has reverted to exhibiting the angry, intolerant behaviors that were modeled for him in childhood and at his worst jobs, to his regret and shame. Carmy aspires to be kind, calm, and equitable, but does not reliably achieve this, periodically descending to "maniac" "menace" "psychopath" behavior that cannot readily be curbed, even by those closest to him. [15] For instance, early on he consistently defended overqualified new-hire Sydney from sexual harassment by Richie (although he simultaneously declined to intervene when the rest of the staff hazed and sabotaged her). When Carmy later turned on Sydney in a moment of crisis, he shortly thereafter texted an apology, admitting that "my behavior was not okay." [27] A consistent and deeply sincere apologizer, by season four, his transgressions against those closest to him have become too consistent for his apologies to hold much weight; Richie yelled in recrimination that "your sorries mean shit." [2]
For its part, the show demonstrates that the mad genius is entirely dispensable if other members of the crew have been fully trained and amply empowered. [48] Much of Carmy's counterproductive season-three pursuit of a brittle sort of perfection seemingly stemmed from a mistaken belief that "if he can cook well enough, if he can be the best, then he can give the people he cares about what they need. And if he destroys himself in the process, then that only proves how much he loves them. Then, at least, he wouldn't feel like he failed them." [1] The show has intentionally and repeatedly deconstructed Carmy's messiah complex and demolished his attempts at martyrdom, instead emphasizing "the absurdity, and damage, of the auteur theory of anything — greatness is never a solitary achievement." [49]
According to a Chicagoan writing in The New York Times Magazine , Carmy's decision to step out of the New York City fast lane to "dole out unglamorous sandwiches from a broken-nosed kind of shop" rewrites his career trajectory: "Carmy went back to Chicago because he had to. He stays because he wants to...the point is to do a great thing, for its own sake, alongside people you care about, without much concern for image or status. The Bear seems to see this as a very Chicago thing." [50]
Carmy and his de facto foster brother, Richie, are prone to "emotional suppression and self-destruction...shouting matches and belittl[ing] one another," habits of toxic masculinity and patriarchy learned at home and at work. [51] These behaviors hobble them individually and the functioning of the business generally, but they simultaneously encourage and enable the careers of their female partners. [51] One rundown of The Bear characters prior to season four described Richie as "Carmy's arch-fremisis," a portmanteau constructed from frenemy and arch-nemesis. [52]
Carmy had a sexual relationship with emergency room physician Claire Dunlap (Molly Gordon) over three or four episodes ("Pop" to "Bolognese") in season two. The pair first met as teenagers and have overlapping social circles. [53] After Carmy "personally serve[d] Claire and her friend as a kind gesture [at the restaurant's soft opening]" but "his head is echoing with negative thoughts and terrible self-criticisms." [54] Upon returning to the kitchen he seemingly retreated to the walk-in fridge to collect himself, and got locked inside because of the broken door handle. Service was a success without him, and Tina told Carmy that everyone was OK, but he was consumed with self-recrimination for not being present in the kitchen: "I failed you guys." [55] Talking his way through it alone in the fridge, Carmy concluded that his personal relationships were at fault: "No amount of good is worth how terrible this feels." [55] In the meantime, Carmy's T been replaced on the other side of the door by Claire, who was disappointed in what she heard. [55] She walked away, kissing cousin Richie a forlorn goodbye on the way. [55] The New York Times described Claire as "never-quite-a-girlfriend." [56] TIME.com described Dr. Dunlap, compared to Chef Adamu, as a "more obvious" candidate for an onscreen romance with Carmen. [57]
The "brilliant" Sydney has been described as Carmy's "most valued colleague." [2] [25] Syd, "an ambitious black girl who trained at the Culinary Institute of America," [3] has elsewhere been described by the show's producers as Carm's "work wife." [58] Syd's presence has also been described as perhaps filling "the void his brother Michael left, but in a much healthier way." [59] Carmy and Sydney have a deeply familiar, vulnerable, and often emotionally fraught partnership. [60] Among other things, Syd "asserts a brand of female partnering we rarely get to see in popular culture. When Carmy flubs, Sydney challenges him. When she has better ideas, she speaks up. She recognizes his immaturity, selfishness and even his demons, and rarely lets him off the hook. She knows what he's capable of and holds him to a commensurate standard." [61]
Critics have referred to an "undeniable" chemistry between the two leads, [62] [59] [63] describing "stolen glances...mutual intolerance for the other's bullshit...creative compatibility...unspoken [or] very sweetly signed communication," and suggested "that these two fearful avoidants [being] as comfortable as they are with each other is no coincidence." [64] The presence of Sydney sometimes seemingly allows Carmy to self-regulate in a way he cannot entirely manage when left to his own devices: "For [Carmy], [a panic attack] subsides because something snaps him out of it, or we cut back to reality...he has a couple of flashes, and then one of them is Sydney, and then he just calms down because Sydney's there and has his back." [65]
The show is also laden with barely-sublimated sensuality (the pair frequently hover over "sizzling meat and simmering sauces"), [66] and visual innuendoes, such as when the two chefs are "screwing" under a dining-room table in season two. [59] Passion is a given, but if carnal desire exists on either side of the couple's friendship its demands are firmly suppressed in favor of other sentiments, such that the coworkers manifest "a kind of intimacy not often explored in TV...a man seeking redemption, gently counseling his colleague through her self-doubt...without touching her or gesturing toward it, begs for an erotic reading." [67] Whatever Carmy's true feelings for Sydney, they remain verbally and physically unexpressed through season four. [68] [69] However, in the words of Rolling Stone critic Alan Sepinwall, "we see at the end of the season that Carmy trusts and cares for [Syd] like he does his own sister. Like Tiffany (Gillian Jacobs), she's a Bear forever if she wants to be." [70]
One critic, arguing that fan opposition to a "Carmy and Sydney" pairing may have its roots in misogynoir, or unconscious biases about what relationship roles are "appropriate" for Black women, commented that "Sydney and Carmy's very slow burn is underlined by Carmy and Claire's very fast burn." [18] A counterargument acknowledged the romantic prospects of the pairing and asserted that "SydCarmy is a product of social media, an arena where floating bigoted takes prompts engagement. A wound-up 'shipping contingent guarantees a vocal opposition will materialize" but that the real argument against romantic consummation is not racialized or gendered but an out-of-hand rejection of the "indolent model in romantic comedies that posits love can fix anything," all while "some viewers also search for signs of developments we want to see, producing the ever-widening rift between those who want Carmy and Syd to stay platonic and the SydCarmy masses yearning for the two to kiss already." [67] Media scholars have commented that Carmy's relationship with his diverse crew is likely central to the character's healing journey and redemption arc: "If, in future seasons of the show, Carmy succeeds in the new venture, there is a risk of uncritically replicating the myth of the self-made man if these rewards are not justly shared with the women and people of color who make up most of the staff of the Bear." [71]
In childhood, the three Berzatto siblings were known by nicknames suffixed with –bear: by birth order, they were Mikeybear, Sugarbear, and Babybear. [72] [73] In adulthood Carm is still called Bear by his sister, others who knew him in his youth, and the restaurant's beloved, gentle, quiet pastry chef, Marcus Brooks (Lionel Boyce), in whom Carmy discovers another kindred spirit and culinary equal. [74] [72] [75] Chef Terry and Ebra both tend to call him by the more-formal Carmen, rather than Carmy. One of the cooks at the Beef, Tina Marrero (Liza Colón-Zayas), begins calling Carmy "Jeff" as a corruption of the more respectful title chef; Jeff and extensions such as Jeffrey eventually come to be used as endearments, when Tina transfers her abiding affection for the late Mikey to his younger brother Carmy. [76] [77] Ferociously devoted to Marcus, Tina, and Syd in particular, Carmy tortures himself with regret over supposedly having "failed them." [78]
In addition to Sugar, Marcus, Syd, Tina, and Richie on every third Thursday, Carmy has been supported by his compassionate and profane cousin Michelle Berzatto (Sarah Paulson), [79] who is good to Carmy and who encouraged him to escape the chaos of the family home in Chicago and continue to pursue his career as a chef. [80] Michelle and her husband Stevie (John Mulaney) let Carmy crash on their couch while he worked in New York. [35]
Andrea Terry, a sophisticated businesswoman who treats Carmy warmly and generously, and a culinarily skilled and socially sharp colleague known as Chef Luca (Will Poulter), both from Ever, remain influential in Carmy's life as well. [35] [79] Luca, who fits in immediately and effortlessly with the staff of the Bear, "is cut from the same cloth as Carmy and is motivated by perfection and legacy more than money and taking the easy route to success." [81] Similarly, while their social relationship is strictly restrained until after her retirement, Chef Terry seems to have served as sort of surrogate mother figure who reparented Carmy by modeling the belief that "cooking for people...is 'time well spent'," whereas Donna saw cooking meals for her family as "only as time not recognized." [1]
Allen's portrayal of Chef Berzatto has been described as "a realistic casting of that asshole" common to high-intensity kitchens, although "The Bear suggests that Carmy's going to be a different kind of leader, one who's learned from his own experience and wants to change the narrative instead of perpetuating it." [82] Daniel Patterson, a chef worked with series creator Storer on a documentary before quitting to make sandwiches, surmised that Carmy's iconic look was intended to be, ultimately, deconstructed: "...for the real-life cooks watching the show who see Carmy—with his perpetual grimace, rock-star hair, and cigarette dangling from his pouty lips—and feel like they've had it with the Marco Pierre White bullshit, I get it. We've all seen it before. The sexy dirty chain-smoking rebel cook is both a cipher for bad-boy fantasies and apologia for white-boy bad behavior." [83]
In regard to the fantasies, the character of Carmy provoked an ode in Bon Appétit magazine to what is apparently a food-service industry stock character, "Sexually Competent Dirtbag Line Cook," about which it was written: [84]
"If you've ever waited in vain for a text back from a man with no bed frame in his apartment, you're already pretty familiar with this type. Imagine no-bed-frame man, but he only drinks from plastic quart containers and cooks a spaghetti carbonara that will make you write in your journal for the first time since high school. Has he showered today? No. Are you going to be the one to change him and make him want to settle down? Also no!" [84]
Carm has been identified as the textbook model of a restaurant-kitchen resident lothario: "'This man does not have curtains in his apartment but he has a $1400 knife that is only for cutting fish.'" [16] Carmy's home and restaurant-office decor consists primarily of scores of cookbooks from multiple eras and regions of the world. [16] Another analysis tagged him as a self-evidently attractive yet problematic fuck boy, discernible as such by his "tattoos, disheveled hair, and 20-a-day habit." [63] [85] Per Salon.com in 2022, Carmy's dirtbag subcategory would be "heroic," in company with Cassian Andor, as he solved "a riddle left by his brother. And in doing so, he saved the jobs of his employees and their futures." [86]
One critic described the subject matter of the series as "sandwiches and trauma and Jeremy Allen White's biceps." [87] A review of season one commended White's "pretty remarkable performance" but found his Carmy "oddly buff for a dude who runs a greasy spoon." [88] A critique of season four by Time magazine critic Judy Berman commented that, "The camera lingers for too long on his pained, Grecian-bust features. His every line is freighted with meaning. White does as great a job as is probably possible of making this overly aestheticized archetype into a believable human being." [89]
Carmy's default plain white T-shirt suggests to some that the show styles him as a "James Dean of the kitchen pass" (The Bear uses a handful of brands for Carm but most prominently one produced by German textile company Merz b. Schwanen). [90] At the restaurant he wears mostly Carhartt Work In Progress pants and sometimes Dickie's work pants. [91] [33] Jeremy Allen White and Carmy Berzatto both wear Nike Cortez sneakers, which sometimes leads to confusion in the costume trailer. [92] His restaurant work shoes are Birkenstock's Tokio design, [93] a chef standard. [94] [95] According to Courtney Wheeler, costume designer for The Bear, Carmy is "pretty settled in how he approaches dressing...Carmy is very classic, very well-worn, but great quality and perfectly cut. Carmy approaches each piece in a considered way when he buys it, so later he doesn't have to think about what he's wearing at all." [96]
Carmy has nine tattoos that have been revealed thus far. Tattoos are common among the "creative and rebellious" chefs who staff American restaurants. [97] White said in 2022 that the tattoos were "for Carmy...sort of an armor, and I don't think he felt that tough all the time, and that got him here." [98]
The Berzattos are Italian American by heritage; media critics have found that the show traffics in stereotypes of Italian Americans being primarily consumed with gangsterism, "food and sex," but that Carmy's "pervasive/invasive relationship with family emerges as the theme of the series." [3] As former Chicago resident Chris Witaske (who plays Carmy's brother-in-law Pete) put it in 2023, "I also think The Bear really captures how in Chicago you're all on top of each other all the time. It creates these really strong bonds of friendship and family. I always talk about how, in L.A., if you want to see your friends you have to make plans and then stick to the plans and then drive 30 minutes. In Chicago, you walk down the street and see half your friend group and then go into a bar and everybody else is there. It's a tighter-knit community." [102]
Unlike his older brother Mikey, Carmy himself has "no stereotypically Italian American features—[he is] blond, blue-eyed, with a constant astonished expression on his face, his attractiveness deriving from boyish appearance, barely counterbalanced by numerous tattoos and tight muscles," attributes that suggest his placement within a "perpetual imbalance between the natural assimilation of 'other' cultures" and the pull toward signifiers of Italian-American identity. [103] The Berzattos have a Roman Catholic religious background. [104] The family celebrates the Feast of the Seven Fishes; Carmy and his siblings sometimes make a ritual appeal to Our Mother of Victory, an embodiment of the Virgin Mary. [104] [105]
Carmy was a compulsive cigarette smoker for most of his adult life and into the first two seasons of the show. His cousin Stevie described Carmy as smelling, generally, like "pledge week at a Sicilian fraternity...sweat, death, lemons, garlic...oh, and the most cigarettes." [106] Carmy quit smoking in episode one of season three, "Tomorrow," seemingly newly disgusted by the sight of a stub-filled ashtray left in the restaurant overnight (but in actuality mostly disgusted with himself). [25] Carm started working nicotine-replacement gum as intensely as he once burned tobacco. [107] He told Chi-Chi (Christopher Zucchero) that he was doing it to save the five minutes it takes to smoke, [108] and he told Sydney he still thought about it, but "only every 10 seconds." [109] The gum regimen and Carmy's determination to clean up his act seemingly worked to break the long-held habit, but he picked it up again in the season-four finale, "Goodbye," when novice Sydney, feeling "abandoned and enraged," inexplicably took up smoking, apparently driven by a combination of spite and nostalgia. [110] [111] Carmy resentfully joined her, lighting her up and later feeding her lit cigarettes while he continued to verbally deconstruct his relationship with Richie. [110] [111]