The pizzeria in the small northern Italian town of Sant’Angelo Lodigiano was a local staple, known for its no-fuss, crispy pizza and the friendly hospitality of the married couple behind the counter.
The last post uploaded to the Facebook page of Pizzeria Le Vignole is from January 11th: an image of an apparent review left by an unhappy customer, who praised the food but left a low rating, complaining of being seated beside some gay people and a boy in a wheelchair.
In response, the owner had politely asked the customer not to visit again, the image shows: “I think this place isn’t for you.” It was signed by the owner and chef, 59-year-old Giovanna Pedretti.
On day one, the Facebook post quickly took off online. Streams of commenters praised Pedretti’s response to the review, and promised to visit the restaurant in support.
Coming in the quiet days of January, with restaurants under pressure from inflation and the seasonal lull, the feelgood story was picked up by Italian media. Newspapers and television interviewed Pedretti and enthusiastic members of the public.
Then, in the familiar rhythm of the online news world, the backlash came.
On day two, a writer for an online news site about food noted striking similarities between the review by the bigoted customer and one that had been left for another restaurant in northern Italy in 2022, suggesting that both reviews may have been the work of one troll and that it would be better not to respond.
A food influencer and regular television guest, Lorenzo Biagiarelli, then took the deconstruction further, pointing out inconsistencies in the font and formatting of the apparent customer review posted by Pizzeria Le Vignole.
He questioned whether the review had been falsified outright for publicity purposes, and criticised the Italian media for covering the story without checking the facts. His analysis was then shared by his girlfriend, a media personality with a large following on Instagram.
On day three, the backlash arrived on the social media accounts of Pizzeria Le Vignole, which began to be attacked by critical posts accusing the owners of inventing a story for clout. Local police interviewed Pedretti, in an apparent attempt to identify the customer who left the review and understand whether there had been a hate crime.
With Pedretti defending herself to national media, Biagiarelli announced that he had telephoned the pizzeria himself to get answers and had quizzed her, demanding that she send him her original record of the Google review. A television reporter for TG3, a national channel, appeared with a microphone to grill Pedretti outside her restaurant about whether the review was genuine.
“I don’t have a response to give you, look me in the eyes,” she told the reporter. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you ... The only thing is that I enlarged my response, so it would be legible.”
On day four, Pedretti’s family reported her missing. Her car was found by the Lambro river, which flowed not far from the pizzeria’s door. That afternoon, her body was discovered in its waters.
In the span of four days, she had been elevated into the national spotlight, first as a hero, and then a villain.
She had become a victim of the strange psychology of the online world, whereby the separation of a screen seems to transform even unsuspecting ordinary people into something like fictional characters in the eyes of those observing them, fair game for any criticism, intrigue, commentary or projection.
This week, the community of Sant’Angelo Lodigiano gathered in their hundreds at the local church as her coffin was carried in, laden with white lilies and roses.
Outside, a group of people held up a large banner. Its handwritten letters asked the press and television to respect the family and stay away. “Don’t show your faces any more.”
In his homily, the priest Enzo Raimondi described the small and close-knit community around Pedretti and her family, bound together by links of friendship and family. He mentioned in contrast the many detached strangers of the online world.
“There is summary justice, without appeal, without mercy, of those who speak without the facts, without knowing [the person or context],” he told the congregation.
“We must ask how to avoid other such tragedies. How to prevent the keyboard lions from pouring out their hatred with impunity, forgetting the destructive power that even mere words can have. That is the meaning of the saying: the tongue kills more than the sword.”