He knew exactly how to stand, and where. In a city that celebrates chefs, this restaurant - and the entire suburb - is mourning a great waiter.July 16, 2026The mood at Marios this week is sombre. Customers nod to the legendary Fitzroy cafe’s owner Mario Maccarone with sad eyes, whispering condolences. On Tuesday and Wednesday, the table against the wall opposite the bar sat empty, lit by candlelight that flickered on to a photo of long-time waiter Massimo Di Sora, who passed away aged 69 on Monday afternoon after a brief illness. The mournful atmosphere is in stark contrast with April, when Marios celebrated 40 years in business, with Di Sora holding court in the midst of the party. As the restaurant’s longest serving employee, Di Sora was as much a face of the business as founders Mario Maccarone and Mario De Pasquale, despite the fact that in recent years he had cut back his hours and no longer worked weekends.Massimo Di Sora (centre) dancing with regular Dotty Carrigg at the Fitzroy cafe during its 40th birthday celebrations in April.Fred SigginsAt the time of the anniversary his retirement, which had been put off a few times, was imminent. He wanted to work through the celebrations, and then step away. A retirement party was planned for June 28. He didn’t make it to that party, or to the exhibition of his photography that coincided with it. In Roman Catholic tradition, the patron saint of waiters is Martha of Bethany, who, according to the bible, selflessly served Jesus in her home. If Melbourne were to have its own patron saint of waiters, it would undoubtedly be Di Sora, who was the first employee of Marios. He exemplified the kind of assured, sometimes gruff, but ultimately loving style of waiting tables that defines so much of Melbourne’s old-school service, a kind of professionalism that is full of heart. “You can just tell when someone knows how to stand, where to stand, that they have restaurants in their blood. Massimo just looked like he belonged.” Mario Maccarone, co-founder of MariosDi Sora was hired just 33 days after Marios opened on Brunswick Street in 1986. “I was out the front, and Mario [De Pasquale] was in the back cooking,” says Maccarone, “and we were dressed in our Fitzroy black. This guy comes in wearing a suit, bright colours, and I said to Mario, ‘Come take a look at this guy. He’s right off the boat!’ ” By the time he’d ordered his second coffee, Maccarone had offered him a job. Restaurant reviews, news and the hottest openings served to your inbox.Sign upBorn in Rome, Di Sora literally grew up in hospitality, working in his parents’ restaurants and living in them, too. “You can just tell when someone knows how to stand, where to stand, that they have restaurants in their blood,” Maccarone says. “Massimo just looked like he belonged.” Nobody, outside of the owners, had more impact on the restaurant, Maccarone says. “The honesty in the style of service, the way we train new people, everything.” It was Di Sora’s suggestion that the bill be presented on a small silver tray to encourage tipping, a fact that he liked to remind younger servers about. The way Marios waiters dress, the way the tables are set, are all in part thanks to him.Dotty Carrigg, who is 20, moved to Melbourne from the country when she was 16 and immediately grew attached to Di Sora, finding his signature style of service endearing. “He was so moody, he’d kind of chuck the menus at you, I thought it was so amusing.” Marios waiter Massimo Di Sora in 2016 at the Fitzroy cafe.Penny StephensOver the years, she and a friend wormed their way into Di Sora’s heart, dining at Marios every Monday night. She’d wave at him when she walked by. Eventually, after a couple of years, Di Sora invited her to have a beer with him after he knocked off one night. “We just talked and talked, about his life, about how much he loved Fitzroy. He was so passionate.” When she found out he was retiring, she “cried quite a bit,” she says. He brought her a limoncello to comfort her. Mario Maccarone and Mario de Pasquale outside Marios earlier this year.PENNY STEPHENS“I feel really special that I was able to have this friendship with someone who is such an integral part of this community,” Carrigg says. “I made him laugh, he made me laugh. He was there through my first heartbreak. I thought he was going to be there forever. I didn’t realise how much an impact he had on my life until he was gone.” Di Sora was a private person in his life away from restaurants. He had a long and loving marriage (despite the fact that it began as a way for him to obtain an Australian visa), and was an artist at heart. His photo collages are intricate layerings of images, mostly shot within the restaurant and often depicting artists in front of their own work. One piece, which was displayed during the June exhibition of his work, shows Massimo himself seated and standing against the wall of the restaurant. Maccarone’s daughter bought the piece for her own collection. Both of the Marios were at Di Sora’s bedside on Monday when he passed away, alongside family and friends. His brother was there via Facetime from Italy. “He was hilarious until the very end,” Maccarone says. “It was a life well-lived.”From our partners