NOTES FOR THE NEW FATHER - By James Comer
So. Maybe you’ve married the woman of your dreams, settled into a wonderful future filled with meaningful and remunerative employment, manifold personal achievements and noble charitable efforts to which you devote your time and the plentiful disposable income you enjoy. Maybe you spent a few too many minutes past last call and received an unsettling phone call a month later. Immaterial. The point is, you are going to be a father. How you have arrived at this point pales in importance to your next move. The type of dad you choose to be will likely characterize all of your life subsequent to this point, as well as that of your unborn progeny, and potentially improve significantly the quality of college an as yet undetermined therapist’s children get to attend.
I have two delightful boys, and their good looks, athleticism and sweet personalities owe a great debt to my lovely wife. I am a marginally social, awkward troll by comparison. That said, through clear and explicit wifely instruction, my innate survival instincts and the cruel truths learned only through stumbling trial and error in the face of paternity, I have gleaned a few useful bits the new father can use to remain slightly more sane than his peers. That really is the first great lesson: as long as some other poor soul is in more misery than you, you’re doing great!
FIRST, SOME RULES: No matter how well-behaved your little angel is and how well she sleeps, there will be nights when you cannot settle the wee one down. Or she wakes up ten times. Or the car alarm outside goes off for an hour. Unavoidable. Do yourself a favor, and work out beforehand who is responsible for that kid. DO NOT SPEAK TO YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER/LIFE PARTNER AFTER 11 P.M. Nothing good will come over two overtired, cranky people discussing anything after being rudely awoken. Safety Note: apart from the delivery room itself, this is the worst possible time to entertain thoughts of “romance”. This suggestion will be phenomenally ill-received.
Volunteer to do things. Routinely. Remember, the mother of your child has borne a human being around with her for the better part of a year. She has then, with no small effort, forcibly expelled this person into the world. Very low on her list of acceptable excuses for inactivity are things like “The game is on,” “I’m tired,” “I think my appendix burst,” and so forth. There are a million things that need to get done once you have a kid, and trust me, YOU won’t think of half of them. Do yourself a favor, and recognize discrete tasks that typically need performing and do them unbidden. This will be wholly unexpected and briefly tilt public opinion your way. Which brings us to….
The supermarket. I don’t know how you handle the grocery shopping, but you should jump all over that job once Baby You has arrived. As you have no doubt come to learn, with a child, you will essentially never be alone again. A trip to the supermarket will allow you to appear useful while getting precious minutes to yourself to breathe, and remember what the outside world looks like. A supermarket trip has the advantage of being one of the more protracted chores that need doing, usually offers a few minutes to peruse the magazine aisle and catch up on celebrity gossip, and in many cases results in the consumption of delightful free samples along the way. As long as you can withstand the disapproving stare of the woman doling out the gratis chicken curry, you can even make a meal out of it! At the supermarket, there are also many items crucial to your….
SURVIVAL. ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT YOUR OWN MENTAL COLLAPSE.
1.) Buy Vicks VapoRub in bulk. Kids stink, and no kids stink worse than new babies. These tiny poop factories not only produce enough waste to keep your lawn green all year, they are persistently covered in whatever sustenance they require, and absent basic dentifrice, their breath would scare away animals. A finger of VapoRub, judiciously applied under the nose will allow you to sail through diapers and vomit alike without batting an eye. Unless the eye has been peed/spit/sneezed upon, in which case you should probably wash. Also, you can put it on their little chests when they get a cold, who knew?
2.) Noise control. You can’t prevent kids from crying, and to a point, you get used to that. What you can prevent is the myriad and insidious sounds that are emitted from all things geared toward kids, be they toys, tv shows, or some apparatus in which to stash the baby so you can eat a three minute meal. I have friends and relatives who think it is the height of comedy to exclusively give gifts that play music, or talk to you or just shriek maniacally for no apparent purpose. These people are one rung below telemarketers on the Ladder of Loathesomeness, and should be acknowledged by having a freshly soiled diaper mailed to their home in an Omaha Steaks box.
Going further, as your kids age, get rid of mass-produced kids music ASAP. It will burrow into your brain and NEVER leave. Is that sound the Wiggles’ “Big Red Car” or your will to live, slowly crumbling? After a while it will be one and the same. You know who kids love? The Beatles. That stuff is catchy, and won’t make you pray for the sweet release of grim death.
3.) Screen out the achievers. There are always other parents who will relentlessly trumpet their baby geniuses and how advanced they are. These are the folks who harass the kindergarten teacher about how the work needs to be more challenging and tell you all about how little Alex is composing concertos due to the music appreciation class they put him in. These people are full of it. Live comfortable in the knowledge that the daughter who is pressured to achieve and of whom excellence is demanded will, much later on, rebel in specific, unpleasant ways. Just try to keep your kids from eating poop, and you’re already halfway home.
A FINAL NOTE
College adjustment counselors, therapists and volumes of addiction literature will tell you that drinking alone is a strong indicator that you might have a problem. OR A SMALL CHILD. For the new dad, the days of lazy Saturdays with the Sox and a Sam are no more. If you can shoehorn 20 minutes
in between feedings, before nightmares, and while the laundry is in the
machine, go ahead and crack one open. If everyone is asleep, and the house is quiet,
don’t be afraid to have a couple. You’ve earned it, and remember, you’re a dad, and
you’re really never alone….
by James Comer
Maybe for you, the best part of Jaws was the ominous theme. Maybe you enjoyed the suspense, the always underrated Roy Schieder or the always overrated Richard Dreyfuss. Who am I to judge? I only know that for me, the most riveting and intense part of that movie was Quint. Robert Shaw’s boozy asocial shark-hunter mesmerizes me each time I watch him. You can’t get a performance like that out of your head and Spielberg couldn’t get a performance like that out of an actor without a little brewed-in-RI assistance. Sharp-eyed Rhode Islanders will know that Shaw’s fuel of choice on set, as well as onscreen, was none other than Rhody’s own Narragansett Beer. The ubiquitous prop was once a staple of backyards and ballgames, becoming the best-selling brew in New England, and the tale of ‘Gansett’s life, death and recent rebirth is as at least as dramatic as the tale of three random guys hunting a giant animatronic fish.
Founded in Cranston in 1890, The Narragansett Brewing Company churned out its first keg in December of that year and didn’t look back. By 1914, Narragansett had built the most modern brewery in New England and was well on its way to being the largest brewer in the region. Following Prohibition, ‘Gansett partnered with the Haffenreffer family to finance and market the restart of their product, and Rudolf Haffenreffer would prove to be the guiding force behind the brewery in the decades to follow. The ‘Gansett brand flourished, entering into sponsorship deals with the Boston Braves and of course, the Sox, whose broadcaster Curt Gowdy became the voice behind the enduring slogan “Hi, Neighbor! Have a ‘Gansett”! The image of two friends sharing a cold Giant Imperial Quart across the backyard fence or a cooler full of the signature Half-quart cans at a barbecue was an indelible one for many a Rhode Islander.
Throughout the ‘50s and ‘60s, the Narragansett brewery took over several competitors, becoming the only brewery in RI. The success of the brand resulted in overtures from national breweries and in 1965, Narragansett was sold to Falstaff Brewery. In subsequent years, the Cranston brewery would produce in addition to ‘Gansett, Falstaff, Ballantine, Boston Light, Boh and numerous other ales and lagers, even the low-budget swill of my college years, Haffenreffer Private Stock Malt Liquor. (At the time, the most bang you could get for two bucks). As the Seventies wore on, the brand’s impact was diluted and in the face of deteriorating facilities and a hyper-competitive national beer market, Falstaff shut down production of Narragansett in Cranston in 1981. The beer was produced (in what many believe to be vastly inferior quality) in Ft. Wayne, Indiana and other parts unknown with the brand quietly dying out by about 2003. Or at least I assume that to be the case, having bought ‘Gansett in the latter part of that year, with the dust on the cans coming at no extra charge.
A forsaken Rhode Island would weep beerlessly, a significant part of our culture gone the way of Rheingold and Blatz. Enter the hero of our tale. Mark Hellendrung, proud son of East Providence and former Juice Guy, spearheaded a group of investors who acquired the brand from Pabst and set about reclaiming our sudsy heritage. Since 2005, the Brown-bred beer baron has embarked upon what can only be described as a crusade to stamp ‘Gansett as the signature adult beverage for the Biggest Little. Relaunching a beer is one thing, but through relentless marketing, creative promotions and the deep anchoring of the “new” ‘Gansett in the hallowed and cherished traditions of RI life, Hellendrung and his crew have created something more than a brand.
There is a culture that attends the Famous Narragansett Beer and one that not only speaks to the die-hard Ocean State loyalist of yore, but attracts newer Rhode Islanders, like myself, who want to embrace the great and quirky things about our adopted home. Seemingly every fun event in RI that is either sponsored by or serves ‘Gansett and recent field research into the crowds at indie rock shows indicates that the brand is huge with the hipsters, with Lupo’s actually selling out of the beer due to overwhelming demand at last month’s Wilco show. Narragansett enlist its drinkers as co-promoters (or more accurately coconspirators), in their efforts to get the beer into as many packies, bars and venues as possible. The most avid fans don’t belong to a club, each one takes a pledge to “Drink Your Part!,” working toward a million cases sold. The true believers receive a Loyalty Card to prove their bona fides. Narragansett is creating a new identity for its customers, and it’s about belonging, to both Rhode Island, and to “Our Beer.”
The goal of the men behind Narragansett is to bring as much production of the brew as possible back to its rightful home and with the help of the loyalists, they are well on their way. Jim Crooks, VP of Sales and Marketing for Narragansett anticipates that given the success of the beer, there will be a site selection process for a new brewery through the fall, with the potential for the lion’s share of ‘Gansett kegs to be RI-brewed by Spring ’11. The planned facility will brew the Lager and ‘Gansett Light, specialty brews like the Porter, Bock and Fest and serve as a test facility for small-batch varieties. Additionally, the history of Narragansett Beer will finally get its own museum to tell the tale of twelve decades of our very own beer. There is no word yet on whether the Half-Quart that was so dramatically crushed by Shaw in Jaws will be featured (although his liver might be available).
The brewers of Narragansett are determined to be Rhode Island’s beer again. Drink your part. And while you’re at it, drop in to Fitzpatrick’s Pub in Cranston for a cold ‘Gansett and a game of pool. Tell them Jen Wallace sent you….
Come Play, Come Learn
by James Comer
“To the right, there’s a millwheel and an old packet ship; the left, a hearth from the 17th Century. Further on, I see what could best be described as an urban bodega around the corner from a bicycling skeleton and a magical forest teeming with small children.”
That, of course, is an excerpt from my brief attempt to write a diary during an extended stay in Amsterdam. It could, however, also be a fairly accurate description of some of the wonderful interactive exhibits at the Providence Children’s Museum. Founded 33 years ago by community groups in Pawtucket, the (then) Rhode Island Children’s Museum soon became a prominent part of the state’s cultural life, serving over 50,000 people annually. The Museum’s success prompted a move to larger quarters in 1997, and its current location at 100 South Street in Providence is clearly marked by the giant dragon astride its roof.
The word exhibits may connote more of a staid, observational feel common to other museums, but one step inside the Children’s Museum tells a different tale. The attractions, to use a more suitable word, are designed to be educational, but in keeping with the Museum philosophy of learning through play, everything is strictly hands-on. The journey through the Coming to Rhode Island exhibit I described above is the perfect example. Located on the second floor, this corridor chronicles how we arrived here, recreating the Woonsocket factory life of a young Frenchman, an English colonist’s home, a ship that made the difficult voyage from Cape Verde and a grocery reflective of the Latino immigration of the last century. Each stop on the trip allows children to become a part of that culture, through imagination play with the costumes and props provided. Other scenes to make on the second floor include the Bone Zone, that allows kids to “see” their skeleton and how it works, exhibits involving shape and pattern recognition and a very cool construction site which lets kids pretend to work building our wonder of urban engineering, The I-Way. The forest, in fact, does exist, as Littlewoods, a place for younger visitors to climb, slide and generally become woodland animals.
A walk, or, in almost every kid’s case, a run down the ramp puts you squarely in the midst of Play Power. Designed as a virtual monument to self-directed creative play, the exhibit encourages kids to build, twist, turn, bend and pull the vast array of blocks, noodles and shapes available. Expressly created to foster open-ended creativity for kids, it also becomes a miracle of cooperation, as the same child who can’t get through ten minutes without attempting fratricide suddenly works smoothly with kids he’s never met to imagine and enact a grand design.
You’ll note that I’ve implicitly recommended starting at the top and working your way down. You’ll thank me. Experience has taught that the last stop should always be Waterways, for despite the comprehensive smock system that the ever-friendly Museum Facilitator administers, this exhibit will get your kids wet. Every kid, every time. Waterways is a huge room filled with a network of large water tables, allowing kids to manipulate dams, floodgates, slides, boats, balls and pumps to channel the flow of water through the cascading levels of the tables, sneakily teaching physics and causal relationships amidst the splashing. It is, simply, excellent.
Picnickers would do well to avail themselves of the Children’s Garden, which contains a percussion station that is truly appreciated by every kid who sees it, and is fortuitously located where the clatter dissipates into the air. As an ongoing manifestation of the Play Works campaign, by June 2010, the Garden will host the newest exhibits at the Museum. Underland will reproduce the underground habitats of animals and the root network of trees for those inclined to burrow and tunnel, and The Climber is an installation by artist/architects Tom and Spencer Luckey that will be a signature experience for those seeking more altitudinal adventure.
In an era where every buck counts, the Providence Children’s Museum is exceedingly reasonable, charging $7.50 per person. As a member, I would recommend procuring a family membership, as it is a tremendous value. A family of four can become members for as little as $70. Once your kids get a load of this place, you will be making multiple trips, so do yourself a favor and sign up. You can’t afford NOT to be a member! Other membership tiers include reciprocal memberships to children’s museums in Boston, Maine, Brooklyn and over a hundred other destinations for those brave enough to venture afar with the wee ones. Be sure, also, to check out www.childrenmuseum.org for information about the daily educational programs hosted at the Museum. As a veteran, I can also recommend the Children’s Museum as a great place to have a birthday party.
The Providence Children’s Museum is the rare place that will delight and engage the most recalcitrant of children while holding the interest of the most jaded adult. Also, the gift shop has cool stuff if you can’t bluff the kids past it.
A Sweet Sight for Sore Eyes
by James Comer
It was early afternoon, and I was starving. Forty-five minutes into a trip to the library with two boys aged 3 and 2, and the contentious process of selecting a suitable DVD seemed certain to continue indefinitely. I am sure any parent of small children can empathize, as having focused solely upon the feeding and clothing of my boys, I had neglected to provide myself with adequate sustenance. My hygiene was, to be kind, underwhelming, and with the promise of a trip to the park afterward, my prospects for food, dim. As I staggered up to the checkout counter, I happened upon a magnificent sight: candy bars were available for sale. Chocolate! In the library! Only a buck! More reasonable and infinitely more delicious than the tooth-cracking World’s Finest fundraising bars they resembled, this brown treasure had saved me. Had the librarian known my plight, she could easily have commanded ten times that ransom for the milky, almond-laden delight I crammed into my mouth. As my hunger dissolved into a sugary haze, the only thought I had was of the bold name on the wrapper: Sweenor’s.
Although my wife said she wasn’t angry, I had long ago learned the hidden peril that could lay behind such assurances. It was possible that she loved my idea to invite my mother to visit for a weekend I would be out of town. It was also possible that she was an infinitely finer person than I, and capable of forgiving routine husbandly thoughtlessness with a carefree shrug. Bolder men than I might risk such things, but I needed to find a peace offering. As I frantically scanned the parking lot in Garden City, there it was: Sweenor’s. It seemed unlikely that this benevolent candy company would again appear to me in my time of need, but a box of homemade peanut butter cups later, tranquility reigned at home. I resolved to learn more about this delicious and impossibly timely candy.
Walter Sweenor, armed with lessons his candy maker father had taught him, began manufacturing sweets in his basement as a way to augment his teacher’s salary during WWII. After the war, Walter’s success allowed him to move the business out of the basement and into a retail location in Garden City, where the flagship Sweenor’s store currently resides. Throughout the decades, the business was handed down the Sweenor family tree, remaining a family owned business today. I had the good fortune to speak with Lisa (Sweenor) Dunham, who operates the business with her brother, Brian.
RIMag: I’ve happily sampled your candy, but for the readers, what makes Sweenor’s unique?
Lisa Dunham: Our ingredients. The chocolate is very high quality and we use only
fresh dairy products, honey and no preservatives.
RIMag: I imagine you’re coming into a busy season as Easter approaches. What type of products will you have?
Lisa Dunham: Our busy season actually starts in September, as we get ready for Christmas, then we move right into Valentine’s Day and now to Easter! For Easter, we re making crème-filled eggs, an assortment of pops, chocolate eggs filled with chocolate, and of course the traditional bunnies and crosses people have come to expect.
RIMag: I would imagine that after growing up in the candy business, you might get tired of eating chocolate after awhile. What do you like about the work?
Lisa Dunham: Actually, I just ate a piece of candy! My brother and I have one every day after lunch. One of the things I like about the work is that there is so much variety. Each holiday has different products and different things we do that keep it fun and in my job, there are never two days the same. In addition to handling the payroll, accounting and other jobs I do some creative work like designing our gift baskets.
RIMag: Rhode Islanders really identify with their food, and we have so many great businesses like yours that have been successful for decades. How do you feel Sweenor’s fits in with the RI food culture?
Lisa Dunham: We hear from customers all the time how our candy was a part of their family traditions. People tell us that they remember our bunnies in their Easter baskets, and now they’re buying them for their kids and grandkids. Folks who have moved away from RI will order our candy online and include comments to us about how they miss Sweenor’s where they live and share great stories about how they grew up with us.
While I cannot assure you, gentle reader, that Sweenor’s candy will rescue you from collapse or promote marital bliss, I can offer that it is absolutely delicious. Stop in to their locations in Garden City Center in Cranston, or at 21 Charles Street in Wakefield. In addition to the many, many varieties of candy in the store (again, the fresh peanut butter cups would make Mr. Reese weep with shame) Sweenor’s can make custom orders for your wedding, birthday or other occasion. Corporate accounts are also welcome, as chocolate business cards will surely make a great impression on clients. All of these products and more are available at www.sweenorschocolates.com and can be shipped across the country.
Should you feel faint in the William Hall library in Cranston, fear not, Sweenor’s is still available there as well. At least until I next require a book.
PRESIDENTS
by James Comer
In our 24-hour news cycle, the image and personality of our Presidents are managed so carefully and specifically that even the most pedestrian of acts--choosing a pet, working on one’s ranch or eating a Big Mac—are presumed to be manufactured opportunities to demonstrate the common touch of our nation’s leader. We tend to conflate the man and the office and fret about what is and is not “Presidential” behavior. Unplanned moments, such as a President vomiting on the Japanese Prime Minister (G.H.W. Bush), falling down the stairs exiting Air Force One (Ford) or jokingly announcing into an open mike that he had ordered the bombing of Russia (Reagan), point up that our leaders are susceptible to the same ills, prone to the same goofs and desirous of the same distractions as we are. In years gone by, however, Presidents were not always as reluctant to let us see the man behind the Seal.
Any parent knows the joys and stresses one can feel when your child gives a performance or plays in a big game. We root for them and worry that they might get hurt in equal measure, and that feeling is not diminished even with the responsibility of a President. In December 1950, Margaret, the 26 year old daughter of Harry and Bess Truman gave a concert in Washington. After reading what he believed to be a “lousy” review in the Washington Post, President Truman wrote a very public rebuke to the critic, including, amongst other imprecations, “Someday I hope to meet you. When that happens you’ll need a new nose, a lot of beefsteak for black eyes, and perhaps a supporter below!” While I can imagine many Presidents would have enjoyed the chance to punch out a reporter or two, Harry Truman actually threatened it!
With all the manifold responsibilities and pressures Presidents assume, it is understandable that they, like anyone would need to blow off some steam, and it seems some made it a staple of their days in office. Chester A. Arthur was a man known for his fashion sense, nightly perambulations and fondness for entertainment of all sorts. Thrust into the Presidency by the assassination of James Garfield, the new Chief Executive saw no reason to change his ways. A regular at nightclubs and rarely to bed before 2, Arthur responded to critical Temperance advocates by uttering a phrase which now seems incredible: “I may be President of the United States, but my private life is my own damned business!”
Amongst his fellow Presidents, Arthur was hardly alone in his enthusiasm for the sporting life. Warren G. Harding entertained his “poker cabinet” of advisers over regular card games, going so far as to gamble away a set of White House China dating back to the Hayes administration. Herbert Hoover publicly expounded the virtues of Prohibition, calling it an “experiment noble in purpose.” This would prove a convenient position when running against Al Smith in 1928, but not quite compatible with Mr. Hoover’s trips to the Belgian Embassy, which being considered foreign soil, was an excellent spot for the President to legally imbibe. Harry Truman had a great fondness for bourbon, going so far as to keep a hidden stash in his White House bathroom, assumedly for savoring in those few moments a President gets to himself. Finally, Andrew Johnson, who later narrowly avoided impeachment, took a few too many shots of “medicinal” liquor prior to being sworn in as Vice-President in 1864, going so far as to slur his inaugural address and a hurried Oath of Office. He was removed from the stage immediately thereafter. It was, no doubt, all due to his recent bout with malaria.
Like anyone, Presidents have hobbies and interests apart from the office. President Reagan loved to ride horses, President Obama is a basketball junkie and, of course, John Quincy Adams enjoyed skinny-dipping in the Potomac. You read that correctly. The Sixth President was so noted for his daily nude swims that an enterprising female reporter hid his clothes while he swam and thus coerced an exclusive interview in exchange for their return. By far, however, the most prevalent pastime shared by Presidents has been the game of golf. Long before President Clinton was known for shooting a 79 (while taking countless executive mulligans), Presidents have obsessed about the game. Woodrow Wilson played over 1000 rounds of golf while in office, even having the Secret Service paint balls black so he could find them in the snow during winter outings. Dwight D. Eisenhower installed a putting green behind the Oval Office, and attempted to use his political power to have the owners of Augusta National Golf Club remove a pine tree on the 17th hole which consistently hampered his drives. They declined, but today the Eisenhower Pine is another of the legendary course’s signature features.
For the President, like other public figures, the private life that Chester Arthur defended has vanished. In our information age, everything is deemed newsworthy by someone and quite a bit of the humanity past Presidents were celebrated for has been proscribed by a judgmental culture. I am certain President Obama has private moments and simple pleasures at times, but his public no longer expects him to, and while the electorate clamors for a “regular guy” to hold office, ultimately that is not how we judge our Presidents. As President’s Day approaches, it is worth remembering that we should want our President to represent the best things about us, but permit him the same indulgences we allow ourselves.
BONUS: Presidential Trivia
With both President’s Day and the Super Bowl drawing near, a question: There are four colleges which have graduated both a President and the starting quarterback for a Super Bowl winner. Can you name them?
answer:
Answer: Stanford: Herbert Hoover/Jim Plunkett (Raiders SB XV and XVIII and John Elway (Broncos SB XXXII and XXXIII)
Michigan: Gerald Ford and Tom Brady (Patriots SB XXXVI, XXXVIII, XXXVIX)
Navy: Jimmy Carter and Roger Staubach, (Cowboys SB VI and XII)
Miami of Ohio: Benjamin Harrison and Ben Roethlisberger (SB XL and XLIII)
PARK Cinema
by James Comer
Where I grew up, the movie theaters had unique names that themselves conveyed something of the magical aura about the movies.? Venues like the Fortway and the Sheepshead reflected their geographic locations, while the Oriental, the Marboro and the Colony were more exotic houses, with historic architecture and artistic flourishes that made going to the movies seem adult and sophisticated.? The neighborhood theaters had their own personalities, with the Oriental’s huge screen being the go-to venue for the big blockbuster, the Alpine well-known as the easiest to sneak between theaters and the Fortway, the last resort, notable only for its ubiquitous and inexterminable roaches.?
?
One of the signature movie houses in Cranston, The Park Cinema in Rolfe Square, was a symbol of its neighborhood and a geographically and culturally central location for generations of Rhode Islanders to escape, to go on a date, or just to pass a couple of hours in quiet comfort.? The advent of convenient, huge multiplexes in Warwick and Providence, however, spelled the beginning of the end for the Park.? In Rhode Island, the trend toward conglomeration in movie distribution began to wreak devastation on the local operator, and as the drive-ins died, so too did the neighborhood movie palace.? As theater mega-chains grew, they homogenized the local theater experience, substituting uniformity for character, splintering the grand rooms into microtheaters and making moviegoing experiences identical, be you in Brooklyn or Boise. Along with the ability to walk to see a film, (driving more than 10 minutes being anathema to the average Rhode Islander)? Cranstonians also lost a bit of their cultural heritage when, the Park finally shut its doors in 2002 after 78 years of continuous operation.
Enter Piyush Patel. After purchasing the Park in 1999, Mr. Patel attempted to recast the theater as an outlet for new releases after years of second-run showings. When competition with the chains became untenable, Mr. Patel embarked on what would become a nearly decade-long effort to renovate the Park, and in the process transform Rolfe Square into an entertainment hub once again. Five years of demolition, red tape, design, red tape, financing, red tape and construction (plus a few delays), caused many to doubt the future of the project. No one counted on the perseverance of Mr. Patel, however, and so in October 2009, the newly (and amply) christened Rhode Island Center for the Performing Arts at the Park Cinema debuted, with the neon Park marquee again shining bright over the corner of Park and Pontiac Avenues.
A quick trip past the bright lights, however, reveals far more than the stadium style 1,050 seat theater within. The renovation of the Park entailed more than just a facelift, as a second story was added onto the building, and the adjacent storefronts were incorporated into the larger building, to create an interconnected one stop entertainment center. In addition to the theater, outfitted for film, live music and dramatic productions, Mr. Patel’s vision has created the 848 Lounge and Park Café accessible from inside the complex or a Park Avenue entrance, a banquet hall for private functions and a bar in the theater lobby for an intermission thirst quencher. A closed circuit television system allows patrons throughout the building to enjoy all the RICPA has to offer without missing the show.
This last amenity is a key to the operation, as there are lofty ambitions for the type of venue the RICPA can become. As part of the renovations, the building has been set up to service virtually any type of entertainment one could want. Spacious dressing rooms can accommodate the casts of dinner theater, holiday shows and comedy acts, the orchestra pit allows for Broadway musicals and concerts alike and, of course, there is a large screen in place to simulcast sporting events, multimedia presentations, and, of course, the occasional movie.
While at times, it seemed the Park would be forever a victim of the big movie chains, and as its dim marquee once told of the decline of vibrant Rolfe Square, many hope the new RICPA is a herald of urban revitalization to come. After nearly $12 million in renovation, funded in part by a Federal Small Business Administration loan, the Park is poised to be a beacon of progress to future businesses looking to locate in Cranston, and a sign of hope to those already there. In ways figurative and literal, the RICPA --located across Park Ave. from Cranston City Hall-- is at the heart of our third-largest city’s future. The city’s website proudly proclaims “We’re on the Move!,” and with the opening of the RICPA, Cranston is going in the right direction.
Cheers to Sakonnet
by James Comer
“And further also, we are graciously pleased, and do hereby declare, that if any of the inhabitants of our said Colony do set upon the planting of vineyards (the soil and climate both seeming naturally to concur to the production of wines)….. in or about the said Colony, we will, from time to time, give and allow all due and fitting encouragement therein, as to others in cases of like nature.”
- Charles II of England
Charter of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, July 8 1663
As astutely acknowledged by His Royal Highness, the environment and weather of our fair state (and much of Southern New England) is uniquely suited for the successful growth of grapes. Mimicking that of the Loire region of France and the Rhine River Valley, the microclimate of Little Compton, buffeted as it is by the Atlantic Ocean and the Sakonnet River, is particularly well placed for winemaking.
It is no surprise, and then, that a scant 212 years after the King granted his blessing, aspiring vintners took advantage of the natural resource available to them. In 1975 Jim and Lolly Mitchell converted 100 acres of land along West Main Road into Sakonnet Vineyards and Winery (162 West Main Road, Little Compton, RI. 02837), joining a small community of East Coast vineyards taking root in Massachusetts and Long Island. Upon purchasing the business in 1987, New York transplants (or, as I like to think of us, converts), Earl and Susan Samson began to implement their vision of what Sakonnet could be.
Upon Susan’s challenge, “if you can make it, I can sell it,” Earl would push forward production of the Gewurztraminer, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Vidal Blanc for which Sakonnet would become known. In the years that followed, Sakonnet would continue to increase production, crating 10,000 cases a year and shipping across the country. Needless to say, with vintages entitled Rhode Island Red and America’s Cup White, Sakonnet prides itself on being a Rhode Island concern, and is available for retail customers and discriminating oenophiles at package stores and restaurants throughout the state.
Production variety and availability are great, but would not go very far if the product itself weren’t exceptional. Sakonnet wines have consistently been rated among the best in New England, recently capturing “Best in RI” status at the Eastern States Exposition, a gold medal at the Tasters Guild International Wine Competition and “Best in Class” at the Long Beach Grand Cru. The annual parade of awards Sakonnet earns places it at the forefront of the East Coast challenge to California’s status as the cradle of American wine.
The outstanding wines are only a part of the full Sakonnet experience. Visitors are welcome year-round for daily tours and tastings, and it is a wonderful experience to pass an afternoon enjoying a flight of Sakonnet’s finest while relaxing amidst beautiful grounds or enjoying lunch at their Coop Café, run in partnership with a local food cooperative. The beautiful coastal scenery of Little Compton can cause visitors (as the Samsons once did) to fall in love with the town, but its relative anonymity in the shadow of Newport, its neighbor across the Sakonnet River Bridge allows visits to Sakonnet to remain a pleasantly intimate experience.
Over the years, as the wine business flourished, the Samson’s made their vineyard available to host private parties, charity events and festivals. Weddings at the vineyard are truly a beautiful experience, and you can’t beat the wine with your meal. The Samson’s have turned Sakonnet into a premier destination for New England foodies as well, forging relationships with regional chefs and farmers to bring fresh, local food to the Vineyard for special events throughout the year. Sakonnet House, a kitchen facility on the premises, has hosted a series featuring renowned chefs who conduct master cooking classes for the public. Of course each lass is accompanied by bottles of Sakonnet wine paired with the meal being prepared. Sakonnet’s annual wine and seafood festival brings chefs and sommeliers from the finest restaurants on New York, Boston and Providence to Little Compton to present their work alongside locally caught seafood and Sakonnet wine. Information these events, Sakonnet’s products and facilities is most easily found at www.sakonnetwine.com.
Glacial soil, abundant water and a temperate climate may have created the basis for a great vineyard, but the innovative and attentive work of the Samsons and their staff have turned Sakonnet into a world-class winemaker, event destination and culinary hub with a distinct Rhode Island flavor. It is a virtue to buy locally, but sublime when what you buy is a bottle on the order of Sakonnet’s 2009 Holiday Spice. Cheers!
Supreme Dairy
A New England Institution - Since 1932
by James Comer
Food is an indelible component of the Rhode Island character.
We love to eat, love to cook, and almost as much, we love talking about eating and cooking. Our love of food is a point of pride for us, and a big part of how we are defined by others. The prominence of food culture in Rhode Island even extends to our fictional ambassadors, the Griffins of Family Guy, who reside in bucolic Quahog.
Providence is famous for Federal Hill, and the tradition of fine Italian cuisine offered there and throughout our state is one of the richest in the country. A rudimentary survey of Rhode Island’s favorite food would include a variety of delicious Italian dishes, but few know where the foundations of these meals come from, or that the ingredients themselves are part of the tradition of Italian food in Rhode Island.
In 1932, Thomas Bruzzese started Supreme Dairy Farms with his savings and the cheesemaking skills he had learned as an apprentice in his native Calabria. Quickly, the Bruzzese family became known for their devotion to the old ways of cheese production and the quality of their product. For Italian-Americans across Rhode Island, Supreme cheeses became the essential taste of the Old Country for decades of family dinners. As the business expanded, it remained a local concern, working out of Warwick and retaining the attention to detail characteristic of a family enterprise.
Though Supreme ships their wares across the state, the small staff and personal attention to detail allow their quality to remain as high as it was nearly eighty years ago. Despite selling the company several years ago, Vincent Bruzzese can still be found occasionally dropping by the dairy to offer the wisdom of his decades of cheesemaking experience and advise his successors. Paul Areson, along with his partner Bill Toll, purchased Supreme in 2006 and are committed to what the Supreme Brand represents. Rhode Island Mag spoke recently with Mr. Areson about Supreme, its history and the challenges of being a local dairy.
You bought Supreme Dairy in 2006.
How has it been getting into the dairy business?
PA: .Coming from another industry, and not originally being from here, it is a great pleasure to be part of the community here in Rhode Island. What’s great about Supreme Dairy is the tradition it represents. We hear from customers that their mother used our products in her recipes, and that they’ve been coming to Supreme for 50 years. It’s a great feeling to know that your products have been a part of people’s personal traditions, particularly around the holidays.
As a local business, it must be difficult competing with large, national dairy producers.
What is Supreme doing moving forward?
PA: There are challenges, but we are growing the business. Over the past thirty years, our food service business has continued to develop, and we sell our cheese to many great Rhode Island institutions, places like Caserta’s Pizzeria, Tommy’s on Federal Hill and the Ronzio chain. While it can be hard to make a dent in the large retail stores because we don’t have a national profile, we’ve held our own. We’ve recently begun selling our products in Wal-Mart and Whole Foods Markets and we’re having real success there. In fact, short of the store brands that each supermarket sells, Supreme has the best-selling ricotta in Rhode Island!
That’s a great local success story.
You mentioned Rhode Islanders using your products in their holiday meals. Is your busy season coming up?
PA: We are actually very busy right now, as we have a lot of people come in to buy our products before heading down to Florida for the winter. We may have a customer come in and buy twenty pounds of cheese to take with them. We also will ship products out of state for our loyal customers who have moved away and can’t get what they need. Product loyalty, local ownership and a long tradition of quality make Supreme Dairy another proud chapter in the rich history of Rhode Island food. Chances are you’ve enjoyed their cheese on a hot slice of pizza, a chicken parm sub, or in Mom’s Sunday lasagna, but while Supreme can be an ingredient in some great meals, when it comes to Rhode Island dairy, this cheese stands alone.
HAVEN BROTHER'S DINER - RI ICON!
by James Comer
The leading advice on nutrition and weight loss indicates that eating late at night can be detrimental to one’s health and should be avoided. What such naysayers fail to take into account is that in certain circumstances, a hot dog at 1 A.M. might be the best meal you’ve ever had.
As a veteran of countless early morning pizza burger deluxes, post-revelry sausage carts and at least one memorable experience at a 24-hour fish-and-chips place in Bath, England, I am of the mind that a late snack can be the perfect capper to a great evening. For over 100 years, there has been a refuge for the insomniac gourmand conveniently located in the heart of Providence, the iconic Haven Brothers Diner.
In 1893, Anne P. Haven, late of Ireland (and late of being married to her beloved Patrick) used her insurance settlement to invest in a horse drawn “lunch cart” which she parked at the corner of Washington and Dorrance Streets downtown. As the business grew through the attentions of factory workers, police and the less upright denizens of downtown, Anne‘s sons inherited their namesake and followed by their children, ran it each night until 1953. After 60 years, the family business was sold to the Mollicone family, who then operated it for a mere 35 years before current owners Sal Giusti and Jack Ferry bought it in 1988.
At a time when many bemoan the disposable nature of modern culture, the story of a long term family-run concern is a heartening reminder that a good product and great location can do wonders, and contributes to the legend of Haven brothers as an American success story.
The tale of Haven Brothers: Providence Icon is, like many of our legends, colored by politics and winking allegiance. Despite several attempts by local politicos to shutter Haven Brothers over the decades, the need for quality food, cheap and late, has triumphed each time. The ability of City Hall staff to grab a frank feet from their desk probably didn’t hurt either. In time, a dedicated parking spot was given to the diner and sorry is the out-of-towner found parked there at 4.P.M. Enjoy your visit with PVD’s Finest.
No less an eminence than People’s Mayor Buddy Cianci proved one of Haven Bros’ staunchest defenders, and as the tale goes, overlooked the illegal power cord running from City Hall to the Diner. Allegedly, of course. Rhode Island is known, amongst many other distinctions of varying merit, as the birthplace of the diner. Nostalgiacs yearning for the heyday of the malt shoppe and a simpler America have seized on Haven Brothers as an exemplar of a better time and grown its outsized reputation. Sociologists from a certain college on a hill can write of the melting pot found on the line at 2 A.M. where students and street people cram into the 8x14 “Aluminum Room” to eat cheek-by-jowl with third-shift workers, cops and the giddily overserved multitudes drawn by the great equalizer of hunger. Whether you consider Haven Bros a relic or laboratory, one thing is obvious: nothing would last this long if the food wasn’t good.
With a top price of $5.95 (lobster roll, not too much mayo) and culinary diversity allowing for both chili dogs AND chili burgers the menu touches all the right notes for flavor and frugality. The hot dogs are juicy (discriminating palates looking for hot wieners are directed Olneyvilleward), and the beans, baked, kidney or chili, are a rare treat, although in the interest of one’s fellow diners, should probably be enjoyed as a to-go item.
The diner is parked at the corner of Fulton and Dorrance, immediately adjacent City Hall, and arrives each evening at 4 P.M. To soak in the true flavor of Haven Brothers, however, the scene doesn’t start happening until about 11, with a boozy, boisterous crescendo after last call at 1. For all those who swear Providence has no great nightlife, try getting a burger with everything around 2. You’ll get more culture than you can shake a stick at. If you love your diner cuisine but cherish your beauty sleep, Haven Brothers can accommodate you. Since July 2008, the shiny beacon of hope for the hungry has parked itself on Federal Hill during daylight. Convey yourself to 72 Spruce Street, a block up from Atwells Ave and enjoy the deliciousness without worrying about the guy at the next stool drooling into his cheese fries.
For over a century, Haven Brothers has used the best business plan—make something good and sell it for a reasonable price—to feed generations of Rhode Islanders. A sandwich for the needy, a cup of coffee for the beat cop and a respite for the worker; Haven Brothers has been all these things, but every night from 4 P.M.-5A.M. and again from 11-4 each day it is, simply, a great diner.
Kenyon's Grist Mill
by James Comer
Outside of a small geographic area, saying the word Usquepaugh will inevitably be followed by someone saying “God Bless You.” However, those who know of this small village in West South County are privy to a piece of Rhode Island that embodies the history of our state and our eclectic cultural identity.
Amongst the many ways in which we proudly assert our uniqueness, Rhode Islanders have bound ourselves to food products not commonly found anywhere else. Clear chowder, stuffies and coffee milk are our lifeblood, but as likely to generate confusion as hunger amongst those in The Other 49. Similarly, johnny cakes, while gracing plates at May breakfasts and diners throughout the Ocean State, are largely unknown outside our borders. These thin cornmeal cakes have a long provenance in Rhode Island, predating English settlement, and for over a century, much of the flour used in their cooking has come from an historic mill hard by the Queen’s River.
Kenyon’s Grist Mill (21 Glen Rock Road, P.O. Box 221 West Kingston RI, 02892) has been in operation since 1886, although some believe some form of milling has occurred on the site since the 17th Century. Although the mill has had a number of owners since its construction, for nearly 40 years it has been operated by the Drumm Family, bought by Paul Jr. and Mary Ellen and passed along to their son Paul III in 2005. Paul Jr. learned the miller’s trade from Charlie Wamsley, a member of the Narragansett tribe and a miller for nearly seventy years. The recipe and methods passed on have been largely unchanged since the first settlers learned how to live from the Narragansetts and Pawtuxets they encountered.
At its start, the mill operated as many did, milling grains for local farmers in exchange for a portion of what they ground. When Charles Kenyon purchased the mill in 1909, he recognized the demand for fresh ground grain and began shipping it throughout Rhode Island under his newly renamed brand. As Kenyon’s product gained a reputation for quality, tables in Connecticut and Massachusetts became host to Johnny cakes made from his corn meal. Today, the Drumms sell Kenyon’s products in supermarkets, specialty shops and gourmet retailers throughout the country.
In addition to its commercial and retail business, the mill is an active participant in the community. Kenyon’s offers tours of its facilities January through April and visitors are welcome to stop by any other time any photographs the buildings and ground and the scenic Queen’s River.
In addition to its commercial and retail business, the mill is an active participant in the community. Kenyon’s offers tours of its facilities January through April and visitors are welcome to stop by any other time any photographs the buildings and ground and the scenic Queen’s River.
Some readers may be familiar with Kenyon’s from their appearance at many festivals and fairs around New England. You can count on a delicious and informative visit when you stop at the Kenyon’s booth for a clam cake and some chowder at these events.
A great opportunity to soak in the whole Kenyon’s experience is coming up on October 24th and 25th, as the Drumms are hosting a Harvest Festival at the mill. Admission, parking and tours are free and you can sample Kenyon’s johnny cakes, chowder and corn muffins in addition to seasonal food from local vendors such as cider, fresh produce, pies, and wines. It is a rare chance to see an historic place that functions today as it always has, and support the Drumm family in their roles as caretakers of our shared history and producers of fine foods.
Kenyon’s exemplifies tradition, using the original millstones quarried in Westerly over 120 years ago and while the buildings and grounds reflect Rhode Island of a bygone time, the products made at Kenyon’s are very timely in their appeal. The Drumms grind only organic grains, and include no additives or preservatives in the production of the corn meal, whole wheat flour, scotch oat meal or other products they offer. This all-natural approach makes their pancake, corn muffin and clam cake mixes healthy as well as delicious. At a time when there are so many concerns about where one’s food comes from and how its prepared, a visit to Kenyon’s recalls not just a simpler time, but in many ways a purer one. All of Kenyon’s products are available at their on-site store, as well as on their website www.kenyonsgristmill.com
Kenyon’s is located near URI, amidst farm country, and you could make a fine autumn’s day out of watching a football game, picking your own apples, and checking out Kenyon’s for some freshly ground grains. Then, the next time you sit at the diner counter, ask the waitress if they use Kenyon’s corn meal in their johnny cakes. If they don’t, let them know a little about Usquepaugh, won’t you?
So. Maybe you’ve married the woman of your dreams, settled into a wonderful future filled with meaningful and remunerative employment, manifold personal achievements and noble charitable efforts to which you devote your time and the plentiful disposable income you enjoy. Maybe you spent a few too many minutes past last call and received an unsettling phone call a month later. Immaterial. The point is, you are going to be a father. How you have arrived at this point pales in importance to your next move. The type of dad you choose to be will likely characterize all of your life subsequent to this point, as well as that of your unborn progeny, and potentially improve significantly the quality of college an as yet undetermined therapist’s children get to attend.
I have two delightful boys, and their good looks, athleticism and sweet personalities owe a great debt to my lovely wife. I am a marginally social, awkward troll by comparison. That said, through clear and explicit wifely instruction, my innate survival instincts and the cruel truths learned only through stumbling trial and error in the face of paternity, I have gleaned a few useful bits the new father can use to remain slightly more sane than his peers. That really is the first great lesson: as long as some other poor soul is in more misery than you, you’re doing great!
FIRST, SOME RULES: No matter how well-behaved your little angel is and how well she sleeps, there will be nights when you cannot settle the wee one down. Or she wakes up ten times. Or the car alarm outside goes off for an hour. Unavoidable. Do yourself a favor, and work out beforehand who is responsible for that kid. DO NOT SPEAK TO YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER/LIFE PARTNER AFTER 11 P.M. Nothing good will come over two overtired, cranky people discussing anything after being rudely awoken. Safety Note: apart from the delivery room itself, this is the worst possible time to entertain thoughts of “romance”. This suggestion will be phenomenally ill-received.
Volunteer to do things. Routinely. Remember, the mother of your child has borne a human being around with her for the better part of a year. She has then, with no small effort, forcibly expelled this person into the world. Very low on her list of acceptable excuses for inactivity are things like “The game is on,” “I’m tired,” “I think my appendix burst,” and so forth. There are a million things that need to get done once you have a kid, and trust me, YOU won’t think of half of them. Do yourself a favor, and recognize discrete tasks that typically need performing and do them unbidden. This will be wholly unexpected and briefly tilt public opinion your way. Which brings us to….
The supermarket. I don’t know how you handle the grocery shopping, but you should jump all over that job once Baby You has arrived. As you have no doubt come to learn, with a child, you will essentially never be alone again. A trip to the supermarket will allow you to appear useful while getting precious minutes to yourself to breathe, and remember what the outside world looks like. A supermarket trip has the advantage of being one of the more protracted chores that need doing, usually offers a few minutes to peruse the magazine aisle and catch up on celebrity gossip, and in many cases results in the consumption of delightful free samples along the way. As long as you can withstand the disapproving stare of the woman doling out the gratis chicken curry, you can even make a meal out of it! At the supermarket, there are also many items crucial to your….
SURVIVAL. ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT YOUR OWN MENTAL COLLAPSE.
1.) Buy Vicks VapoRub in bulk. Kids stink, and no kids stink worse than new babies. These tiny poop factories not only produce enough waste to keep your lawn green all year, they are persistently covered in whatever sustenance they require, and absent basic dentifrice, their breath would scare away animals. A finger of VapoRub, judiciously applied under the nose will allow you to sail through diapers and vomit alike without batting an eye. Unless the eye has been peed/spit/sneezed upon, in which case you should probably wash. Also, you can put it on their little chests when they get a cold, who knew?
2.) Noise control. You can’t prevent kids from crying, and to a point, you get used to that. What you can prevent is the myriad and insidious sounds that are emitted from all things geared toward kids, be they toys, tv shows, or some apparatus in which to stash the baby so you can eat a three minute meal. I have friends and relatives who think it is the height of comedy to exclusively give gifts that play music, or talk to you or just shriek maniacally for no apparent purpose. These people are one rung below telemarketers on the Ladder of Loathesomeness, and should be acknowledged by having a freshly soiled diaper mailed to their home in an Omaha Steaks box.
Going further, as your kids age, get rid of mass-produced kids music ASAP. It will burrow into your brain and NEVER leave. Is that sound the Wiggles’ “Big Red Car” or your will to live, slowly crumbling? After a while it will be one and the same. You know who kids love? The Beatles. That stuff is catchy, and won’t make you pray for the sweet release of grim death.
3.) Screen out the achievers. There are always other parents who will relentlessly trumpet their baby geniuses and how advanced they are. These are the folks who harass the kindergarten teacher about how the work needs to be more challenging and tell you all about how little Alex is composing concertos due to the music appreciation class they put him in. These people are full of it. Live comfortable in the knowledge that the daughter who is pressured to achieve and of whom excellence is demanded will, much later on, rebel in specific, unpleasant ways. Just try to keep your kids from eating poop, and you’re already halfway home.
A FINAL NOTE
College adjustment counselors, therapists and volumes of addiction literature will tell you that drinking alone is a strong indicator that you might have a problem. OR A SMALL CHILD. For the new dad, the days of lazy Saturdays with the Sox and a Sam are no more. If you can shoehorn 20 minutes
in between feedings, before nightmares, and while the laundry is in the
machine, go ahead and crack one open. If everyone is asleep, and the house is quiet,
don’t be afraid to have a couple. You’ve earned it, and remember, you’re a dad, and
you’re really never alone….
by James Comer
Maybe for you, the best part of Jaws was the ominous theme. Maybe you enjoyed the suspense, the always underrated Roy Schieder or the always overrated Richard Dreyfuss. Who am I to judge? I only know that for me, the most riveting and intense part of that movie was Quint. Robert Shaw’s boozy asocial shark-hunter mesmerizes me each time I watch him. You can’t get a performance like that out of your head and Spielberg couldn’t get a performance like that out of an actor without a little brewed-in-RI assistance. Sharp-eyed Rhode Islanders will know that Shaw’s fuel of choice on set, as well as onscreen, was none other than Rhody’s own Narragansett Beer. The ubiquitous prop was once a staple of backyards and ballgames, becoming the best-selling brew in New England, and the tale of ‘Gansett’s life, death and recent rebirth is as at least as dramatic as the tale of three random guys hunting a giant animatronic fish.
Founded in Cranston in 1890, The Narragansett Brewing Company churned out its first keg in December of that year and didn’t look back. By 1914, Narragansett had built the most modern brewery in New England and was well on its way to being the largest brewer in the region. Following Prohibition, ‘Gansett partnered with the Haffenreffer family to finance and market the restart of their product, and Rudolf Haffenreffer would prove to be the guiding force behind the brewery in the decades to follow. The ‘Gansett brand flourished, entering into sponsorship deals with the Boston Braves and of course, the Sox, whose broadcaster Curt Gowdy became the voice behind the enduring slogan “Hi, Neighbor! Have a ‘Gansett”! The image of two friends sharing a cold Giant Imperial Quart across the backyard fence or a cooler full of the signature Half-quart cans at a barbecue was an indelible one for many a Rhode Islander.
Throughout the ‘50s and ‘60s, the Narragansett brewery took over several competitors, becoming the only brewery in RI. The success of the brand resulted in overtures from national breweries and in 1965, Narragansett was sold to Falstaff Brewery. In subsequent years, the Cranston brewery would produce in addition to ‘Gansett, Falstaff, Ballantine, Boston Light, Boh and numerous other ales and lagers, even the low-budget swill of my college years, Haffenreffer Private Stock Malt Liquor. (At the time, the most bang you could get for two bucks). As the Seventies wore on, the brand’s impact was diluted and in the face of deteriorating facilities and a hyper-competitive national beer market, Falstaff shut down production of Narragansett in Cranston in 1981. The beer was produced (in what many believe to be vastly inferior quality) in Ft. Wayne, Indiana and other parts unknown with the brand quietly dying out by about 2003. Or at least I assume that to be the case, having bought ‘Gansett in the latter part of that year, with the dust on the cans coming at no extra charge.
A forsaken Rhode Island would weep beerlessly, a significant part of our culture gone the way of Rheingold and Blatz. Enter the hero of our tale. Mark Hellendrung, proud son of East Providence and former Juice Guy, spearheaded a group of investors who acquired the brand from Pabst and set about reclaiming our sudsy heritage. Since 2005, the Brown-bred beer baron has embarked upon what can only be described as a crusade to stamp ‘Gansett as the signature adult beverage for the Biggest Little. Relaunching a beer is one thing, but through relentless marketing, creative promotions and the deep anchoring of the “new” ‘Gansett in the hallowed and cherished traditions of RI life, Hellendrung and his crew have created something more than a brand.
There is a culture that attends the Famous Narragansett Beer and one that not only speaks to the die-hard Ocean State loyalist of yore, but attracts newer Rhode Islanders, like myself, who want to embrace the great and quirky things about our adopted home. Seemingly every fun event in RI that is either sponsored by or serves ‘Gansett and recent field research into the crowds at indie rock shows indicates that the brand is huge with the hipsters, with Lupo’s actually selling out of the beer due to overwhelming demand at last month’s Wilco show. Narragansett enlist its drinkers as co-promoters (or more accurately coconspirators), in their efforts to get the beer into as many packies, bars and venues as possible. The most avid fans don’t belong to a club, each one takes a pledge to “Drink Your Part!,” working toward a million cases sold. The true believers receive a Loyalty Card to prove their bona fides. Narragansett is creating a new identity for its customers, and it’s about belonging, to both Rhode Island, and to “Our Beer.”
The goal of the men behind Narragansett is to bring as much production of the brew as possible back to its rightful home and with the help of the loyalists, they are well on their way. Jim Crooks, VP of Sales and Marketing for Narragansett anticipates that given the success of the beer, there will be a site selection process for a new brewery through the fall, with the potential for the lion’s share of ‘Gansett kegs to be RI-brewed by Spring ’11. The planned facility will brew the Lager and ‘Gansett Light, specialty brews like the Porter, Bock and Fest and serve as a test facility for small-batch varieties. Additionally, the history of Narragansett Beer will finally get its own museum to tell the tale of twelve decades of our very own beer. There is no word yet on whether the Half-Quart that was so dramatically crushed by Shaw in Jaws will be featured (although his liver might be available).
The brewers of Narragansett are determined to be Rhode Island’s beer again. Drink your part. And while you’re at it, drop in to Fitzpatrick’s Pub in Cranston for a cold ‘Gansett and a game of pool. Tell them Jen Wallace sent you….
Come Play, Come Learn
by James Comer
“To the right, there’s a millwheel and an old packet ship; the left, a hearth from the 17th Century. Further on, I see what could best be described as an urban bodega around the corner from a bicycling skeleton and a magical forest teeming with small children.”
That, of course, is an excerpt from my brief attempt to write a diary during an extended stay in Amsterdam. It could, however, also be a fairly accurate description of some of the wonderful interactive exhibits at the Providence Children’s Museum. Founded 33 years ago by community groups in Pawtucket, the (then) Rhode Island Children’s Museum soon became a prominent part of the state’s cultural life, serving over 50,000 people annually. The Museum’s success prompted a move to larger quarters in 1997, and its current location at 100 South Street in Providence is clearly marked by the giant dragon astride its roof.
The word exhibits may connote more of a staid, observational feel common to other museums, but one step inside the Children’s Museum tells a different tale. The attractions, to use a more suitable word, are designed to be educational, but in keeping with the Museum philosophy of learning through play, everything is strictly hands-on. The journey through the Coming to Rhode Island exhibit I described above is the perfect example. Located on the second floor, this corridor chronicles how we arrived here, recreating the Woonsocket factory life of a young Frenchman, an English colonist’s home, a ship that made the difficult voyage from Cape Verde and a grocery reflective of the Latino immigration of the last century. Each stop on the trip allows children to become a part of that culture, through imagination play with the costumes and props provided. Other scenes to make on the second floor include the Bone Zone, that allows kids to “see” their skeleton and how it works, exhibits involving shape and pattern recognition and a very cool construction site which lets kids pretend to work building our wonder of urban engineering, The I-Way. The forest, in fact, does exist, as Littlewoods, a place for younger visitors to climb, slide and generally become woodland animals.
A walk, or, in almost every kid’s case, a run down the ramp puts you squarely in the midst of Play Power. Designed as a virtual monument to self-directed creative play, the exhibit encourages kids to build, twist, turn, bend and pull the vast array of blocks, noodles and shapes available. Expressly created to foster open-ended creativity for kids, it also becomes a miracle of cooperation, as the same child who can’t get through ten minutes without attempting fratricide suddenly works smoothly with kids he’s never met to imagine and enact a grand design.
You’ll note that I’ve implicitly recommended starting at the top and working your way down. You’ll thank me. Experience has taught that the last stop should always be Waterways, for despite the comprehensive smock system that the ever-friendly Museum Facilitator administers, this exhibit will get your kids wet. Every kid, every time. Waterways is a huge room filled with a network of large water tables, allowing kids to manipulate dams, floodgates, slides, boats, balls and pumps to channel the flow of water through the cascading levels of the tables, sneakily teaching physics and causal relationships amidst the splashing. It is, simply, excellent.
Picnickers would do well to avail themselves of the Children’s Garden, which contains a percussion station that is truly appreciated by every kid who sees it, and is fortuitously located where the clatter dissipates into the air. As an ongoing manifestation of the Play Works campaign, by June 2010, the Garden will host the newest exhibits at the Museum. Underland will reproduce the underground habitats of animals and the root network of trees for those inclined to burrow and tunnel, and The Climber is an installation by artist/architects Tom and Spencer Luckey that will be a signature experience for those seeking more altitudinal adventure.
In an era where every buck counts, the Providence Children’s Museum is exceedingly reasonable, charging $7.50 per person. As a member, I would recommend procuring a family membership, as it is a tremendous value. A family of four can become members for as little as $70. Once your kids get a load of this place, you will be making multiple trips, so do yourself a favor and sign up. You can’t afford NOT to be a member! Other membership tiers include reciprocal memberships to children’s museums in Boston, Maine, Brooklyn and over a hundred other destinations for those brave enough to venture afar with the wee ones. Be sure, also, to check out www.childrenmuseum.org for information about the daily educational programs hosted at the Museum. As a veteran, I can also recommend the Children’s Museum as a great place to have a birthday party.
The Providence Children’s Museum is the rare place that will delight and engage the most recalcitrant of children while holding the interest of the most jaded adult. Also, the gift shop has cool stuff if you can’t bluff the kids past it.
A Sweet Sight for Sore Eyes
by James Comer
It was early afternoon, and I was starving. Forty-five minutes into a trip to the library with two boys aged 3 and 2, and the contentious process of selecting a suitable DVD seemed certain to continue indefinitely. I am sure any parent of small children can empathize, as having focused solely upon the feeding and clothing of my boys, I had neglected to provide myself with adequate sustenance. My hygiene was, to be kind, underwhelming, and with the promise of a trip to the park afterward, my prospects for food, dim. As I staggered up to the checkout counter, I happened upon a magnificent sight: candy bars were available for sale. Chocolate! In the library! Only a buck! More reasonable and infinitely more delicious than the tooth-cracking World’s Finest fundraising bars they resembled, this brown treasure had saved me. Had the librarian known my plight, she could easily have commanded ten times that ransom for the milky, almond-laden delight I crammed into my mouth. As my hunger dissolved into a sugary haze, the only thought I had was of the bold name on the wrapper: Sweenor’s.
Although my wife said she wasn’t angry, I had long ago learned the hidden peril that could lay behind such assurances. It was possible that she loved my idea to invite my mother to visit for a weekend I would be out of town. It was also possible that she was an infinitely finer person than I, and capable of forgiving routine husbandly thoughtlessness with a carefree shrug. Bolder men than I might risk such things, but I needed to find a peace offering. As I frantically scanned the parking lot in Garden City, there it was: Sweenor’s. It seemed unlikely that this benevolent candy company would again appear to me in my time of need, but a box of homemade peanut butter cups later, tranquility reigned at home. I resolved to learn more about this delicious and impossibly timely candy.
Walter Sweenor, armed with lessons his candy maker father had taught him, began manufacturing sweets in his basement as a way to augment his teacher’s salary during WWII. After the war, Walter’s success allowed him to move the business out of the basement and into a retail location in Garden City, where the flagship Sweenor’s store currently resides. Throughout the decades, the business was handed down the Sweenor family tree, remaining a family owned business today. I had the good fortune to speak with Lisa (Sweenor) Dunham, who operates the business with her brother, Brian.
RIMag: I’ve happily sampled your candy, but for the readers, what makes Sweenor’s unique?
Lisa Dunham: Our ingredients. The chocolate is very high quality and we use only
fresh dairy products, honey and no preservatives.
RIMag: I imagine you’re coming into a busy season as Easter approaches. What type of products will you have?
Lisa Dunham: Our busy season actually starts in September, as we get ready for Christmas, then we move right into Valentine’s Day and now to Easter! For Easter, we re making crème-filled eggs, an assortment of pops, chocolate eggs filled with chocolate, and of course the traditional bunnies and crosses people have come to expect.
RIMag: I would imagine that after growing up in the candy business, you might get tired of eating chocolate after awhile. What do you like about the work?
Lisa Dunham: Actually, I just ate a piece of candy! My brother and I have one every day after lunch. One of the things I like about the work is that there is so much variety. Each holiday has different products and different things we do that keep it fun and in my job, there are never two days the same. In addition to handling the payroll, accounting and other jobs I do some creative work like designing our gift baskets.
RIMag: Rhode Islanders really identify with their food, and we have so many great businesses like yours that have been successful for decades. How do you feel Sweenor’s fits in with the RI food culture?
Lisa Dunham: We hear from customers all the time how our candy was a part of their family traditions. People tell us that they remember our bunnies in their Easter baskets, and now they’re buying them for their kids and grandkids. Folks who have moved away from RI will order our candy online and include comments to us about how they miss Sweenor’s where they live and share great stories about how they grew up with us.
While I cannot assure you, gentle reader, that Sweenor’s candy will rescue you from collapse or promote marital bliss, I can offer that it is absolutely delicious. Stop in to their locations in Garden City Center in Cranston, or at 21 Charles Street in Wakefield. In addition to the many, many varieties of candy in the store (again, the fresh peanut butter cups would make Mr. Reese weep with shame) Sweenor’s can make custom orders for your wedding, birthday or other occasion. Corporate accounts are also welcome, as chocolate business cards will surely make a great impression on clients. All of these products and more are available at www.sweenorschocolates.com and can be shipped across the country.
Should you feel faint in the William Hall library in Cranston, fear not, Sweenor’s is still available there as well. At least until I next require a book.
PRESIDENTS
by James Comer
In our 24-hour news cycle, the image and personality of our Presidents are managed so carefully and specifically that even the most pedestrian of acts--choosing a pet, working on one’s ranch or eating a Big Mac—are presumed to be manufactured opportunities to demonstrate the common touch of our nation’s leader. We tend to conflate the man and the office and fret about what is and is not “Presidential” behavior. Unplanned moments, such as a President vomiting on the Japanese Prime Minister (G.H.W. Bush), falling down the stairs exiting Air Force One (Ford) or jokingly announcing into an open mike that he had ordered the bombing of Russia (Reagan), point up that our leaders are susceptible to the same ills, prone to the same goofs and desirous of the same distractions as we are. In years gone by, however, Presidents were not always as reluctant to let us see the man behind the Seal.
Any parent knows the joys and stresses one can feel when your child gives a performance or plays in a big game. We root for them and worry that they might get hurt in equal measure, and that feeling is not diminished even with the responsibility of a President. In December 1950, Margaret, the 26 year old daughter of Harry and Bess Truman gave a concert in Washington. After reading what he believed to be a “lousy” review in the Washington Post, President Truman wrote a very public rebuke to the critic, including, amongst other imprecations, “Someday I hope to meet you. When that happens you’ll need a new nose, a lot of beefsteak for black eyes, and perhaps a supporter below!” While I can imagine many Presidents would have enjoyed the chance to punch out a reporter or two, Harry Truman actually threatened it!
With all the manifold responsibilities and pressures Presidents assume, it is understandable that they, like anyone would need to blow off some steam, and it seems some made it a staple of their days in office. Chester A. Arthur was a man known for his fashion sense, nightly perambulations and fondness for entertainment of all sorts. Thrust into the Presidency by the assassination of James Garfield, the new Chief Executive saw no reason to change his ways. A regular at nightclubs and rarely to bed before 2, Arthur responded to critical Temperance advocates by uttering a phrase which now seems incredible: “I may be President of the United States, but my private life is my own damned business!”
Amongst his fellow Presidents, Arthur was hardly alone in his enthusiasm for the sporting life. Warren G. Harding entertained his “poker cabinet” of advisers over regular card games, going so far as to gamble away a set of White House China dating back to the Hayes administration. Herbert Hoover publicly expounded the virtues of Prohibition, calling it an “experiment noble in purpose.” This would prove a convenient position when running against Al Smith in 1928, but not quite compatible with Mr. Hoover’s trips to the Belgian Embassy, which being considered foreign soil, was an excellent spot for the President to legally imbibe. Harry Truman had a great fondness for bourbon, going so far as to keep a hidden stash in his White House bathroom, assumedly for savoring in those few moments a President gets to himself. Finally, Andrew Johnson, who later narrowly avoided impeachment, took a few too many shots of “medicinal” liquor prior to being sworn in as Vice-President in 1864, going so far as to slur his inaugural address and a hurried Oath of Office. He was removed from the stage immediately thereafter. It was, no doubt, all due to his recent bout with malaria.
Like anyone, Presidents have hobbies and interests apart from the office. President Reagan loved to ride horses, President Obama is a basketball junkie and, of course, John Quincy Adams enjoyed skinny-dipping in the Potomac. You read that correctly. The Sixth President was so noted for his daily nude swims that an enterprising female reporter hid his clothes while he swam and thus coerced an exclusive interview in exchange for their return. By far, however, the most prevalent pastime shared by Presidents has been the game of golf. Long before President Clinton was known for shooting a 79 (while taking countless executive mulligans), Presidents have obsessed about the game. Woodrow Wilson played over 1000 rounds of golf while in office, even having the Secret Service paint balls black so he could find them in the snow during winter outings. Dwight D. Eisenhower installed a putting green behind the Oval Office, and attempted to use his political power to have the owners of Augusta National Golf Club remove a pine tree on the 17th hole which consistently hampered his drives. They declined, but today the Eisenhower Pine is another of the legendary course’s signature features.
For the President, like other public figures, the private life that Chester Arthur defended has vanished. In our information age, everything is deemed newsworthy by someone and quite a bit of the humanity past Presidents were celebrated for has been proscribed by a judgmental culture. I am certain President Obama has private moments and simple pleasures at times, but his public no longer expects him to, and while the electorate clamors for a “regular guy” to hold office, ultimately that is not how we judge our Presidents. As President’s Day approaches, it is worth remembering that we should want our President to represent the best things about us, but permit him the same indulgences we allow ourselves.
BONUS: Presidential Trivia
With both President’s Day and the Super Bowl drawing near, a question: There are four colleges which have graduated both a President and the starting quarterback for a Super Bowl winner. Can you name them?
answer:
Answer: Stanford: Herbert Hoover/Jim Plunkett (Raiders SB XV and XVIII and John Elway (Broncos SB XXXII and XXXIII)
Michigan: Gerald Ford and Tom Brady (Patriots SB XXXVI, XXXVIII, XXXVIX)
Navy: Jimmy Carter and Roger Staubach, (Cowboys SB VI and XII)
Miami of Ohio: Benjamin Harrison and Ben Roethlisberger (SB XL and XLIII)
PARK Cinema
by James Comer
Where I grew up, the movie theaters had unique names that themselves conveyed something of the magical aura about the movies.? Venues like the Fortway and the Sheepshead reflected their geographic locations, while the Oriental, the Marboro and the Colony were more exotic houses, with historic architecture and artistic flourishes that made going to the movies seem adult and sophisticated.? The neighborhood theaters had their own personalities, with the Oriental’s huge screen being the go-to venue for the big blockbuster, the Alpine well-known as the easiest to sneak between theaters and the Fortway, the last resort, notable only for its ubiquitous and inexterminable roaches.?
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One of the signature movie houses in Cranston, The Park Cinema in Rolfe Square, was a symbol of its neighborhood and a geographically and culturally central location for generations of Rhode Islanders to escape, to go on a date, or just to pass a couple of hours in quiet comfort.? The advent of convenient, huge multiplexes in Warwick and Providence, however, spelled the beginning of the end for the Park.? In Rhode Island, the trend toward conglomeration in movie distribution began to wreak devastation on the local operator, and as the drive-ins died, so too did the neighborhood movie palace.? As theater mega-chains grew, they homogenized the local theater experience, substituting uniformity for character, splintering the grand rooms into microtheaters and making moviegoing experiences identical, be you in Brooklyn or Boise. Along with the ability to walk to see a film, (driving more than 10 minutes being anathema to the average Rhode Islander)? Cranstonians also lost a bit of their cultural heritage when, the Park finally shut its doors in 2002 after 78 years of continuous operation.
Enter Piyush Patel. After purchasing the Park in 1999, Mr. Patel attempted to recast the theater as an outlet for new releases after years of second-run showings. When competition with the chains became untenable, Mr. Patel embarked on what would become a nearly decade-long effort to renovate the Park, and in the process transform Rolfe Square into an entertainment hub once again. Five years of demolition, red tape, design, red tape, financing, red tape and construction (plus a few delays), caused many to doubt the future of the project. No one counted on the perseverance of Mr. Patel, however, and so in October 2009, the newly (and amply) christened Rhode Island Center for the Performing Arts at the Park Cinema debuted, with the neon Park marquee again shining bright over the corner of Park and Pontiac Avenues.
A quick trip past the bright lights, however, reveals far more than the stadium style 1,050 seat theater within. The renovation of the Park entailed more than just a facelift, as a second story was added onto the building, and the adjacent storefronts were incorporated into the larger building, to create an interconnected one stop entertainment center. In addition to the theater, outfitted for film, live music and dramatic productions, Mr. Patel’s vision has created the 848 Lounge and Park Café accessible from inside the complex or a Park Avenue entrance, a banquet hall for private functions and a bar in the theater lobby for an intermission thirst quencher. A closed circuit television system allows patrons throughout the building to enjoy all the RICPA has to offer without missing the show.
This last amenity is a key to the operation, as there are lofty ambitions for the type of venue the RICPA can become. As part of the renovations, the building has been set up to service virtually any type of entertainment one could want. Spacious dressing rooms can accommodate the casts of dinner theater, holiday shows and comedy acts, the orchestra pit allows for Broadway musicals and concerts alike and, of course, there is a large screen in place to simulcast sporting events, multimedia presentations, and, of course, the occasional movie.
While at times, it seemed the Park would be forever a victim of the big movie chains, and as its dim marquee once told of the decline of vibrant Rolfe Square, many hope the new RICPA is a herald of urban revitalization to come. After nearly $12 million in renovation, funded in part by a Federal Small Business Administration loan, the Park is poised to be a beacon of progress to future businesses looking to locate in Cranston, and a sign of hope to those already there. In ways figurative and literal, the RICPA --located across Park Ave. from Cranston City Hall-- is at the heart of our third-largest city’s future. The city’s website proudly proclaims “We’re on the Move!,” and with the opening of the RICPA, Cranston is going in the right direction.
Cheers to Sakonnet
by James Comer
“And further also, we are graciously pleased, and do hereby declare, that if any of the inhabitants of our said Colony do set upon the planting of vineyards (the soil and climate both seeming naturally to concur to the production of wines)….. in or about the said Colony, we will, from time to time, give and allow all due and fitting encouragement therein, as to others in cases of like nature.”
- Charles II of England
Charter of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, July 8 1663
As astutely acknowledged by His Royal Highness, the environment and weather of our fair state (and much of Southern New England) is uniquely suited for the successful growth of grapes. Mimicking that of the Loire region of France and the Rhine River Valley, the microclimate of Little Compton, buffeted as it is by the Atlantic Ocean and the Sakonnet River, is particularly well placed for winemaking.
It is no surprise, and then, that a scant 212 years after the King granted his blessing, aspiring vintners took advantage of the natural resource available to them. In 1975 Jim and Lolly Mitchell converted 100 acres of land along West Main Road into Sakonnet Vineyards and Winery (162 West Main Road, Little Compton, RI. 02837), joining a small community of East Coast vineyards taking root in Massachusetts and Long Island. Upon purchasing the business in 1987, New York transplants (or, as I like to think of us, converts), Earl and Susan Samson began to implement their vision of what Sakonnet could be.
Upon Susan’s challenge, “if you can make it, I can sell it,” Earl would push forward production of the Gewurztraminer, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Vidal Blanc for which Sakonnet would become known. In the years that followed, Sakonnet would continue to increase production, crating 10,000 cases a year and shipping across the country. Needless to say, with vintages entitled Rhode Island Red and America’s Cup White, Sakonnet prides itself on being a Rhode Island concern, and is available for retail customers and discriminating oenophiles at package stores and restaurants throughout the state.
Production variety and availability are great, but would not go very far if the product itself weren’t exceptional. Sakonnet wines have consistently been rated among the best in New England, recently capturing “Best in RI” status at the Eastern States Exposition, a gold medal at the Tasters Guild International Wine Competition and “Best in Class” at the Long Beach Grand Cru. The annual parade of awards Sakonnet earns places it at the forefront of the East Coast challenge to California’s status as the cradle of American wine.
The outstanding wines are only a part of the full Sakonnet experience. Visitors are welcome year-round for daily tours and tastings, and it is a wonderful experience to pass an afternoon enjoying a flight of Sakonnet’s finest while relaxing amidst beautiful grounds or enjoying lunch at their Coop Café, run in partnership with a local food cooperative. The beautiful coastal scenery of Little Compton can cause visitors (as the Samsons once did) to fall in love with the town, but its relative anonymity in the shadow of Newport, its neighbor across the Sakonnet River Bridge allows visits to Sakonnet to remain a pleasantly intimate experience.
Over the years, as the wine business flourished, the Samson’s made their vineyard available to host private parties, charity events and festivals. Weddings at the vineyard are truly a beautiful experience, and you can’t beat the wine with your meal. The Samson’s have turned Sakonnet into a premier destination for New England foodies as well, forging relationships with regional chefs and farmers to bring fresh, local food to the Vineyard for special events throughout the year. Sakonnet House, a kitchen facility on the premises, has hosted a series featuring renowned chefs who conduct master cooking classes for the public. Of course each lass is accompanied by bottles of Sakonnet wine paired with the meal being prepared. Sakonnet’s annual wine and seafood festival brings chefs and sommeliers from the finest restaurants on New York, Boston and Providence to Little Compton to present their work alongside locally caught seafood and Sakonnet wine. Information these events, Sakonnet’s products and facilities is most easily found at www.sakonnetwine.com.
Glacial soil, abundant water and a temperate climate may have created the basis for a great vineyard, but the innovative and attentive work of the Samsons and their staff have turned Sakonnet into a world-class winemaker, event destination and culinary hub with a distinct Rhode Island flavor. It is a virtue to buy locally, but sublime when what you buy is a bottle on the order of Sakonnet’s 2009 Holiday Spice. Cheers!
Supreme Dairy
A New England Institution - Since 1932
by James Comer
Food is an indelible component of the Rhode Island character.
We love to eat, love to cook, and almost as much, we love talking about eating and cooking. Our love of food is a point of pride for us, and a big part of how we are defined by others. The prominence of food culture in Rhode Island even extends to our fictional ambassadors, the Griffins of Family Guy, who reside in bucolic Quahog.
Providence is famous for Federal Hill, and the tradition of fine Italian cuisine offered there and throughout our state is one of the richest in the country. A rudimentary survey of Rhode Island’s favorite food would include a variety of delicious Italian dishes, but few know where the foundations of these meals come from, or that the ingredients themselves are part of the tradition of Italian food in Rhode Island.
In 1932, Thomas Bruzzese started Supreme Dairy Farms with his savings and the cheesemaking skills he had learned as an apprentice in his native Calabria. Quickly, the Bruzzese family became known for their devotion to the old ways of cheese production and the quality of their product. For Italian-Americans across Rhode Island, Supreme cheeses became the essential taste of the Old Country for decades of family dinners. As the business expanded, it remained a local concern, working out of Warwick and retaining the attention to detail characteristic of a family enterprise.
Though Supreme ships their wares across the state, the small staff and personal attention to detail allow their quality to remain as high as it was nearly eighty years ago. Despite selling the company several years ago, Vincent Bruzzese can still be found occasionally dropping by the dairy to offer the wisdom of his decades of cheesemaking experience and advise his successors. Paul Areson, along with his partner Bill Toll, purchased Supreme in 2006 and are committed to what the Supreme Brand represents. Rhode Island Mag spoke recently with Mr. Areson about Supreme, its history and the challenges of being a local dairy.
You bought Supreme Dairy in 2006.
How has it been getting into the dairy business?
PA: .Coming from another industry, and not originally being from here, it is a great pleasure to be part of the community here in Rhode Island. What’s great about Supreme Dairy is the tradition it represents. We hear from customers that their mother used our products in her recipes, and that they’ve been coming to Supreme for 50 years. It’s a great feeling to know that your products have been a part of people’s personal traditions, particularly around the holidays.
As a local business, it must be difficult competing with large, national dairy producers.
What is Supreme doing moving forward?
PA: There are challenges, but we are growing the business. Over the past thirty years, our food service business has continued to develop, and we sell our cheese to many great Rhode Island institutions, places like Caserta’s Pizzeria, Tommy’s on Federal Hill and the Ronzio chain. While it can be hard to make a dent in the large retail stores because we don’t have a national profile, we’ve held our own. We’ve recently begun selling our products in Wal-Mart and Whole Foods Markets and we’re having real success there. In fact, short of the store brands that each supermarket sells, Supreme has the best-selling ricotta in Rhode Island!
That’s a great local success story.
You mentioned Rhode Islanders using your products in their holiday meals. Is your busy season coming up?
PA: We are actually very busy right now, as we have a lot of people come in to buy our products before heading down to Florida for the winter. We may have a customer come in and buy twenty pounds of cheese to take with them. We also will ship products out of state for our loyal customers who have moved away and can’t get what they need. Product loyalty, local ownership and a long tradition of quality make Supreme Dairy another proud chapter in the rich history of Rhode Island food. Chances are you’ve enjoyed their cheese on a hot slice of pizza, a chicken parm sub, or in Mom’s Sunday lasagna, but while Supreme can be an ingredient in some great meals, when it comes to Rhode Island dairy, this cheese stands alone.
HAVEN BROTHER'S DINER - RI ICON!
by James Comer
The leading advice on nutrition and weight loss indicates that eating late at night can be detrimental to one’s health and should be avoided. What such naysayers fail to take into account is that in certain circumstances, a hot dog at 1 A.M. might be the best meal you’ve ever had.
As a veteran of countless early morning pizza burger deluxes, post-revelry sausage carts and at least one memorable experience at a 24-hour fish-and-chips place in Bath, England, I am of the mind that a late snack can be the perfect capper to a great evening. For over 100 years, there has been a refuge for the insomniac gourmand conveniently located in the heart of Providence, the iconic Haven Brothers Diner.
In 1893, Anne P. Haven, late of Ireland (and late of being married to her beloved Patrick) used her insurance settlement to invest in a horse drawn “lunch cart” which she parked at the corner of Washington and Dorrance Streets downtown. As the business grew through the attentions of factory workers, police and the less upright denizens of downtown, Anne‘s sons inherited their namesake and followed by their children, ran it each night until 1953. After 60 years, the family business was sold to the Mollicone family, who then operated it for a mere 35 years before current owners Sal Giusti and Jack Ferry bought it in 1988.
At a time when many bemoan the disposable nature of modern culture, the story of a long term family-run concern is a heartening reminder that a good product and great location can do wonders, and contributes to the legend of Haven brothers as an American success story.
The tale of Haven Brothers: Providence Icon is, like many of our legends, colored by politics and winking allegiance. Despite several attempts by local politicos to shutter Haven Brothers over the decades, the need for quality food, cheap and late, has triumphed each time. The ability of City Hall staff to grab a frank feet from their desk probably didn’t hurt either. In time, a dedicated parking spot was given to the diner and sorry is the out-of-towner found parked there at 4.P.M. Enjoy your visit with PVD’s Finest.
No less an eminence than People’s Mayor Buddy Cianci proved one of Haven Bros’ staunchest defenders, and as the tale goes, overlooked the illegal power cord running from City Hall to the Diner. Allegedly, of course. Rhode Island is known, amongst many other distinctions of varying merit, as the birthplace of the diner. Nostalgiacs yearning for the heyday of the malt shoppe and a simpler America have seized on Haven Brothers as an exemplar of a better time and grown its outsized reputation. Sociologists from a certain college on a hill can write of the melting pot found on the line at 2 A.M. where students and street people cram into the 8x14 “Aluminum Room” to eat cheek-by-jowl with third-shift workers, cops and the giddily overserved multitudes drawn by the great equalizer of hunger. Whether you consider Haven Bros a relic or laboratory, one thing is obvious: nothing would last this long if the food wasn’t good.
With a top price of $5.95 (lobster roll, not too much mayo) and culinary diversity allowing for both chili dogs AND chili burgers the menu touches all the right notes for flavor and frugality. The hot dogs are juicy (discriminating palates looking for hot wieners are directed Olneyvilleward), and the beans, baked, kidney or chili, are a rare treat, although in the interest of one’s fellow diners, should probably be enjoyed as a to-go item.
The diner is parked at the corner of Fulton and Dorrance, immediately adjacent City Hall, and arrives each evening at 4 P.M. To soak in the true flavor of Haven Brothers, however, the scene doesn’t start happening until about 11, with a boozy, boisterous crescendo after last call at 1. For all those who swear Providence has no great nightlife, try getting a burger with everything around 2. You’ll get more culture than you can shake a stick at. If you love your diner cuisine but cherish your beauty sleep, Haven Brothers can accommodate you. Since July 2008, the shiny beacon of hope for the hungry has parked itself on Federal Hill during daylight. Convey yourself to 72 Spruce Street, a block up from Atwells Ave and enjoy the deliciousness without worrying about the guy at the next stool drooling into his cheese fries.
For over a century, Haven Brothers has used the best business plan—make something good and sell it for a reasonable price—to feed generations of Rhode Islanders. A sandwich for the needy, a cup of coffee for the beat cop and a respite for the worker; Haven Brothers has been all these things, but every night from 4 P.M.-5A.M. and again from 11-4 each day it is, simply, a great diner.
Kenyon's Grist Mill
by James Comer
Outside of a small geographic area, saying the word Usquepaugh will inevitably be followed by someone saying “God Bless You.” However, those who know of this small village in West South County are privy to a piece of Rhode Island that embodies the history of our state and our eclectic cultural identity.
Amongst the many ways in which we proudly assert our uniqueness, Rhode Islanders have bound ourselves to food products not commonly found anywhere else. Clear chowder, stuffies and coffee milk are our lifeblood, but as likely to generate confusion as hunger amongst those in The Other 49. Similarly, johnny cakes, while gracing plates at May breakfasts and diners throughout the Ocean State, are largely unknown outside our borders. These thin cornmeal cakes have a long provenance in Rhode Island, predating English settlement, and for over a century, much of the flour used in their cooking has come from an historic mill hard by the Queen’s River.
Kenyon’s Grist Mill (21 Glen Rock Road, P.O. Box 221 West Kingston RI, 02892) has been in operation since 1886, although some believe some form of milling has occurred on the site since the 17th Century. Although the mill has had a number of owners since its construction, for nearly 40 years it has been operated by the Drumm Family, bought by Paul Jr. and Mary Ellen and passed along to their son Paul III in 2005. Paul Jr. learned the miller’s trade from Charlie Wamsley, a member of the Narragansett tribe and a miller for nearly seventy years. The recipe and methods passed on have been largely unchanged since the first settlers learned how to live from the Narragansetts and Pawtuxets they encountered.
At its start, the mill operated as many did, milling grains for local farmers in exchange for a portion of what they ground. When Charles Kenyon purchased the mill in 1909, he recognized the demand for fresh ground grain and began shipping it throughout Rhode Island under his newly renamed brand. As Kenyon’s product gained a reputation for quality, tables in Connecticut and Massachusetts became host to Johnny cakes made from his corn meal. Today, the Drumms sell Kenyon’s products in supermarkets, specialty shops and gourmet retailers throughout the country.
In addition to its commercial and retail business, the mill is an active participant in the community. Kenyon’s offers tours of its facilities January through April and visitors are welcome to stop by any other time any photographs the buildings and ground and the scenic Queen’s River.
In addition to its commercial and retail business, the mill is an active participant in the community. Kenyon’s offers tours of its facilities January through April and visitors are welcome to stop by any other time any photographs the buildings and ground and the scenic Queen’s River.
Some readers may be familiar with Kenyon’s from their appearance at many festivals and fairs around New England. You can count on a delicious and informative visit when you stop at the Kenyon’s booth for a clam cake and some chowder at these events.
A great opportunity to soak in the whole Kenyon’s experience is coming up on October 24th and 25th, as the Drumms are hosting a Harvest Festival at the mill. Admission, parking and tours are free and you can sample Kenyon’s johnny cakes, chowder and corn muffins in addition to seasonal food from local vendors such as cider, fresh produce, pies, and wines. It is a rare chance to see an historic place that functions today as it always has, and support the Drumm family in their roles as caretakers of our shared history and producers of fine foods.
Kenyon’s exemplifies tradition, using the original millstones quarried in Westerly over 120 years ago and while the buildings and grounds reflect Rhode Island of a bygone time, the products made at Kenyon’s are very timely in their appeal. The Drumms grind only organic grains, and include no additives or preservatives in the production of the corn meal, whole wheat flour, scotch oat meal or other products they offer. This all-natural approach makes their pancake, corn muffin and clam cake mixes healthy as well as delicious. At a time when there are so many concerns about where one’s food comes from and how its prepared, a visit to Kenyon’s recalls not just a simpler time, but in many ways a purer one. All of Kenyon’s products are available at their on-site store, as well as on their website www.kenyonsgristmill.com
Kenyon’s is located near URI, amidst farm country, and you could make a fine autumn’s day out of watching a football game, picking your own apples, and checking out Kenyon’s for some freshly ground grains. Then, the next time you sit at the diner counter, ask the waitress if they use Kenyon’s corn meal in their johnny cakes. If they don’t, let them know a little about Usquepaugh, won’t you?
