Food, Family, and Being a Regular

“I miss the banter with friends and family, which more often than not takes place within the confines of a decent public house. So I miss the pubs.”

—Chris Vance

 

Ok, full disclosure, I had to look up who Chris Vance is. Turns out he’s an actor, from England. Well, I guess if you can’t be Irish, that’s close enough. He’s right about the pubs though. Having a regular place to go to, where they remember you, where your friends hang out, and you don’t even have to look at a menu, because you know what they have is priceless. Sometimes, if you are a true regular, they start making your order when you walk in the door. It doesn’t even have to be a pub, though. I am a fan of small pubs where they greet me like family, but honestly, if you have a favorite coffee shop, bistro, or diner, it’s the same thing. It’s knowing that when you walk in the door, you’ll be among friends. You’ll get asked about your kids, your dog, your day. The waitress will remember that you like extra cream in your coffee, which will probably be waiting for you at your regular spot. Having a spot is important if you’re going to be a regular. Every old sitcom that has a restaurant or a bar in it shows the characters always sitting in the same place. Norm at Cheers, Seinfeld at “The Restaurant,” and of course the iconic orange couch from “Friends” that was magically always available, despite being the best seat in a crowded coffee shop. Having a spot means that you sort of own a tiny bit of real estate in a favorite place. It’s an honor that comes with the designation of being a regular.

Luckily there are a lot of local pubs and restaurants around that I like, and that, to their credit, keep letting me come back. There is no place like The Barnacle in a storm, the Muffin Shop lobster rolls are perfection, and Scott and Emily at Sea Salt know just how I like my lettuce wraps. Years ago, when the Salem Diner wasn’t just a write-off for the university and was actually owned by a real family, it was my first stop most mornings. Before anyone was awake, I’d creep out of the house and go there for a coffee, at my favorite spot at the counter. I’d catch up with the owner, chat with other regulars, and start my day on a positive note of community and connection. 

I thought I wouldn’t find another spot like that for coffee, but luckily, a cafe opened up in Swampscott, with delicious food, excellent service, and people that know me and welcome me. Cafe Avellino’s owner Teresa Siriagno has saved my bacon (or should I say prosciutto) more than once with takeout family meals, good music, and a place to sit and chat with new friends and old friends. It was especially nice when a storm knocked power out at our house, but Teresa was open and made room for us to have a hot meal, a cold drink, and charge up our phones.

 

What’s even better than a really nice Italian place, that has good coffee, authentic cannoli, and is across from a beach? A sister restaurant, right downtown Marblehead! La Sirena is the second spot opened by Teresa, and it’s been a most welcome addition to a street of fun shops, and locals. La Sirena also has live music, well, at least it did in the “Before Times” when you could sing and play the harmonica without it being a hazmat event. The pandemic has been hellish for restaurants, pubs, and coffee shops. Many have closed their doors and may not open again. 

 

Teresa has met the challenge head-on, however, and when she couldn’t hire a band and host people, she turned to family meals and take out. Remember back in April and May, when going to the grocery store was like some kind of decathlon of obstacles, stress, and fear? That’s when Cafe Avellino became the lifeboat that kept my family from drowning in yet another boxed rice and dried out chicken. Teresa knew that family meals that come ready to eat, with crusty bread and good sauce are a bright spot on the dark days. I did my part by telling everyone I knew (and even a few random strangers) to go get some of her food, and it turns out there were so many customers from Marblehead going over the line to Swampscott, that she just had to make it happen here too. La Sirena is becoming a one-stop-shop for fresh pastry, gourmet coffee, small bites, and family meals. I’m so happy I can stay here in the ‘Head to get my favorite food, because, hey, there’s still that Marblehead/Swampscott rivalry thing, so staying local matters. Stop by La Sirena soon, get some good food, and say “Benvenuta” to Teresa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

SNOW RULES

"Kindness is like snow. It beautifies everything it covers."

--- Kahlil Gibran

Ok, I would not agree that snow beautifies everything, but that's just a personal issue, and this quote is probably meant metaphorically. Snow does enhance places in New Hampshire like ski areas and fallow fields. It looks lovely in Central Park, clinging to spindly tree branches while tiny white lights twinkle through and put a bit of sparkle in the air. The sight of snow on the cupola of Founders Hall on the campus of my alma mater Saint Michael's College in Winooski, VT never fails to warm my heart. It evokes a memory of the best years of my life when everything was new, and my world was a small campus of brick buildings, friends, and adventures.

Having grown older though, and, admittedly, a good bit crankier, snow that shows up in my world now is not viewed by me as anything but a hassle and a hazard. Staying upright on flat, dry pavement is a struggle for me. Throw in snow, ice and wearing clunky boots that I hate and it's a recipe for disaster, complete with public humiliation and an epic windmilling of arms and legs that ends with me stranded in a snow bank. I've never once fallen without at least a dozen witnesses, because what fun would that be?

The snow situation recently in town, however, has brought to the fore another problem. A lack of kindness, compassion, and patience. We got slammed, no doubt. This bomb cyclone was just insane in how fast it roared in, crapped white death all over everything and then zoomed out to sea, without a backward glance. It was overwhelming to some, no doubt. It doesn't matter how much bread and milk you buy; if you can't even shove open the storm door to get out to your driveway, it's going to get ugly fast. Visions of Jack Nicholson and "Here's Johnny!" are never far from my mind in these storms. Eventually, though, we all dig out, and life goes on, as it should. I was not thrilled about forking over close to $1,000 on a snowblower some years back, but it happens to have been one of the best decisions ever, and I'm grateful for it.

Not everyone has one though. Some have teens that shovel, landscapers that plow, or some other way of dealing with the snow. It's been a few days though, and if one goes by the angst and anxiety on social media, you would think that there are no sidewalks cleared anywhere in town. Wee babes are being left to wander busy streets, like some snowy version of Frogger, leaping out of the way of oncoming traffic. It's true; the snow hasn't changed many of the driving habits I routinely rant about. People still park like they own the road and not the car and apparently many are oblivious to those around them, and there have been some close calls. Sidewalks seem to be a significant issue, and it might be time for Brenda's Rules of Snow Etiquette. Much like myself, they're entirely arbitrary and not complete but take a look anyway.

1)    If at all possible, shovel the sidewalk in front of your house. No, you don't own it, and there is no town ordinance that can force you to take care of it. No law exists telling you to find a little kindness in your heart either, but it's a good idea. If you can't do it, because of age, finances, physical infirmities or other issues, that's OK. Maybe ask a neighbor? Perhaps offer a hot meal, a hand knit scarf or a bottle of a chosen adult beverage to someone in trade for it? Your letter carrier will thank you, so will your friends with dogs, the trash collection guys and, especially near schools, you will have the thanks of grateful parents and students who have a safe place to walk. Move away from the thought of "Why should I?" and go towards, "Why wouldn't I?"

2)    If you have a plow service, for your home or business, please ask them not to pile your snow into the driveways and yards of your neighbors. You don't rake your leaves into someone else's yard; you don't go over and pick someone else's veggie garden without permission. Don't make your snow their problem. Also, please realize how hard snow removal crews work, especially our town employees. Thank them when you can and try looking at it from their place behind the wheel.

3)    Check on your neighbors. Yes, even that cranky one that yells, "Get off my lawn." It can be hard for people to ask for help but think about it. Who doesn't need some assistance now and then? If you can, offer your help. Because it's nice, because it benefits everyone and because it's good karma.

Spring will be here eventually, as it always is. Kindness, on the other hand, seems rather in short supply in some areas. We can't change the weather, but I'm betting we can make it seem a little less brutal? To those (and you know who you are) who already do this, thank you. Stay safe and warm and as my friend Chris always says, "Peace and love."