For the Time Capsule series, we spotlight a cherished restaurant, hotel or landmark that’s changed remarkably little over the years. This week, we visit Minard’s Spaghetti Inn in West Virginia.

THEN

When Michael and Rose Minard treated their first customers to spaghetti and hand-rolled meatballs, it was in their humble stucco home’s dining room, in Clarksburg, W.Va., modestly furnished with an old oak table and about six chairs. By the 1930s, an Italian-American community flourished in north-central West Virginia, but the Great Depression lingered and industrial jobs that sustained immigrant families at the turn of the century had largely dried up. The Minards had little but culinary know-how, passed down from Calabrian ancestors and that stucco building in which Minard’s Spaghetti Inn was born in 1937.

The next year, Michael’s brother Sam Minard and his wife Agnes (Rose’s sister) joined the effort. They worked side-by-side in a tiny kitchen to churn out sauce-drenched noodles, ladle by ladle, night after night. Days after visiting for pasta or beef cacciatore, guests often received a handwritten note of thanks in the mail. Eventually the entire first floor became restaurant space. Expansions continued about once per decade through the ’90s.

RED SAUCE RELIC Minard’s has expanded over the years, adding more rooms and tables, but the rich, meaty sauce recipe hasn’t changed in over eight decades.

NOW

In over eight decades,the rich, meaty sauce recipe hasn’t changed. Cooks just make more of it—around 1,200 gallons a week, along with 20 gallons of vinegary house salad dressing and over 3,000 meatballs. “And that’s on a slow week,” said general manager Heather Gillespie. Spaghetti, lasagna and handmade ravioli turn first-time diners into devotees, but so does the atmosphere. Countless little touches—from family photographs and afghan-draped sofas to vintage wallpapers and old-fangled curios—paint a picture easily interpreted, wistfully by many, as home. “It’s the same homey feeling, the same thing they got when they were kids,” said Ms. Gillespie.

Four large, unlabeled portraits hang in gilded frames just inside the front door. Original proprietors Michael and Rose are on one side, directly facing Sam and Agnes on the other, greeting everyone who comes and goes. Each wears a slight grin; it’s as if they collectively echo a line from their letters 85 years ago: “Thank you for coming to our house for dinner.”

FAMILY AFFAIR In 1938, Michael’s brother Sam Minard and his wife Agnes (Rose’s sister) began helping run Minard’s Spaghetti Inn. Now owned by the grandsons of the original proprietors, the restaurant is furnished with family photos, including this one of Sam and Agnes.

The Meatball Index

Pasta costs, past and present

The first plate of spaghetti and meatballs went for half a dollar at the Minards’ residence-turned-restaurant in 1937. Ingredient costs spiked during the pandemic, straining already tight operating budgets of independent restaurants, and leading Minard’s to raise prices across the board. The cost of some ingredients quadrupled, and that of some dishes rose accordingly. Regular spaghetti with two meatballs increased by a mere 25 cents. “I’ll put my foot down on that one, no matter what happens,” said general manager Heather Gillespie. “Sure, we might have to raise it here and there, but we cannot get outrageous with the price of our spaghetti.”

Spaghetti Strongholds

Three other red-sauce relics in West Virginia

Muriale’s Italian Kitchen

Photo: Muriale's Italian Kitchen

Mom’s Lasagna Twin Oaks Restaurant, Bridgeport, W.Va.

Knotty pine walls and oak-leaf metal fixtures hark back to 1957 when the Ialepi brothers first opened Twin Oaks as a pizza and hoagie shop. Before long, the restaurant expanded and the brothers leaned into their southern-Italian culinary heritage to build out a robust menu with additional entrees like homemade ravioli with meat sauce, chicken and veal parm and Mom Ialepi’s lasagna.

Rigatoni on the River Muriale’s Italian Kitchen, Fairmont, W.Va.

When Frank and Violet Muriale opened their restaurant overlooking the Monongahela River in 1969, they did so inspired by their deep Calabrian roots—and with assistance from siblings, grandparents and cousins. The proud family legacy is still on display at Muriale’s Italian Kitchen, in old photographs, letters and mementos that line the walls, and in the time-honored family recipes—though these days, you can order their “famous meatballs” with whole-wheat or gluten-free pasta.

Train Fare Julio’s Cafe, Clarksburg, W.Va.

The surroundings of Julio’s Cafe (est. 1967) have changed over three generations of Iaquinta family ownership. At first, Julio’s largely catered to the once-bustling train depot in Clarksburg’s Glen Elk District. Passenger trains no longer stop at the depot and Glen Elk is quieter now. But in the same brick building with vintage neon signage, Julio’s offers up a host of family recipes, many of which predate the Iaquintas’ journey from San Giovanni in Fiore.

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