Crowds waited for hours in the rain to join Palizzi Social Club, one of Philly’s most exclusive restaurants

They waited all night in the rain and chill on the South Philly pavement.

For the exclusivity. For the tradition. For the giant ravioli as big as a plate, chicken cutlets pounded thin and topped with special bread crumbs, and elegant elixirs with poetic names like the Laverghetta and Mezzarboa.

They came to belong.

And as dawn turned to morning and morning turned into damp afternoon, they waited anxiously for the chance at one of the most choice memberships in South Philadelphia — or anywhere in Philadelphia, for that matter: a seat at the linoleum-topped tables of the celebrated Palizzi Social Club.

On Thursday, as happened the previous three Thursdays at 3 p.m. sharp, the South Philly destination that serves delicious Italian food and potent cocktails in a speakeasy-style rowhouse, once again dished out 25 annual memberships. They were the last of a batch of 100 the Passyunk Square club issued since reopening its scrolls this month.

Once again, crowds surged and tents unfolded along South 12th Street. Once again, friendships formed and bonds were made during the long hours in line. Once again, culinary dreams were dashed. And a select few were offered entry into the time-capsule eatery, a space with its Naugahyde, wood paneling, smoked mirrors, and heaping courses.

“It’s just been an overwhelming amount of love that we have gotten,” said chef Joey Baldino, who revived the 107-year-old Palizzi in 2017. “It’s a new generation for the club.”

Baldino, more than anyone, knows. His family has run the club — founded by Italian immigrants from southern Abruzzo, along the Adriatic Coast — as a private space in the New World for three generations. His uncle Ernest Mezzaroba, who died at 82 in 2016, previously operated the club.

“The club’s been here for over a hundred years,” he said. “It’s part of the Philadelphia story, the American story. It’s about guys coming over from the Old Country with literally nothing, and building a community … and now it’s my opportunity to maintain what they started and to share it with people from all over the city.”

And not just the city.

“I heard this was the best and most exclusive Italian food in South Philadelphia,” said Cristina Allegretti, a self-professed foodie, who lives in Washington and drove up with her father, Tom. To score the second spot in line, Allegretti, who is currently unemployed and said she liked the idea of embracing her Italian heritage, set up her beach chair outside Palizzi around 10 p.m. Wednesday. Two weeks before, she had tried taking Amtrak’s Northeast Regional but arrived too late.

“The bar was a bit lower in the previous weeks,” she said late Thursday morning, holding strong in line. “People came around 6:30 or 7:30 in the morning, and got memberships. Not this week.”

Allegretti was set up right behind Ed Keenan, a semiretired father of two from Ocean City, who arrived before 10 p.m. Wednesday to surprise his son and daughter, who both live in Center City.

“I’m sitting here listening to everyone talk about how good the food is, and I’m like, ‘Wow, maybe it’s a good thing I did this,” he said, popping his head out of his mini-tent.

Membership at the Palizzi is nothing if not trying.

Rules were tight. As in previous weeks, the cozy club, which had not opened membership since 2023 and, under Pennsylvania law, may admit only members and their guests — sold $20 annual memberships to the first 25 people in line at the front door. The first 10 each week receive a complimentary gold seal on their old-school membership card granting access to the club’s new President’s Room, a second-floor lounge that offers snacks and live jazz Friday and Saturdays.

Because the club’s leadership voted to release only 100 new memberships, the cutoff was firm, Baldino said. Everyone else in line would be issued applications that would be reviewed and could be eventually accepted, though there were no guarantees.

“It’s really tough to say,” Baldino said, regretfully. “It really depends — it’s such a small place. It’s literally a rowhome.”

Like Allegretti, many in line had come up short in past weeks.

Megan and David Dickler, of Northern Liberties, who were seventh and eighth in line, had shown up the previous Thursday at 5:30 a.m., but turned away at the long line, knowing it was hopeless. Late Wednesday night, David, 32, a med student, rushed out of the car in the rain, to help other early-comers set up a large tent on the sidewalk. Shelter from the storm.

“There was no way else to get in,” said Megan Dickler, a grad student.

A few spots down, Clayton Bowman, a retired staff sergeant in the Marines, and his wife, Sherri Hao, of Queen Village, came prepared like pros. Bowman had bought a WeatherPod tent online, and the couple ate ramen out of thermoses.

Bathroom breaks were tenuous — had at nearby cafés or markets. Some knew to knock on the nearby door of the Engine 10 Ladder 11 firehouse. After all, the firefighters could appreciate their pain. Four of them had waited in line the first Thursday, assuring fellow waiters they could use the station house bathroom.

Others in line returned the favor by holding the firefighters’ places when they had to rush out on a call, said Annie Bennett, who had the misfortune of being No. 26 in line that first week and left an application. (Baldino said the club is reviewing the applications of those who did not make the cut in order of their place in line).

Still Bennett, who is in her early 30s and lives with her husband in Queen Village, didn’t walk away bitter. She and her husband had already gone on a dinner date to Royal Sushi & Izakaya with friends they had made in line.

That same culinary camaraderie returned Thursday outside the club that, over a century ago, was created to build community in a slice of South Philly. At least among those with primo spots.

Overnight, those at the very front of the line had already made plans to one day soon dine together at the Palizzi.

“But then,” said Megan Dickler, “we realized we didn’t even know each other’s names.”