Overheard . . .

Recently, while Marash Girl and Marash Boy were dining in the outdoor garden area of a local restaurant, the waitress reached across their table in order to turn on the outdoor lights. (For some reason, the table and chairs at which they were seated were placed against, i.e., in front of, the light switch.) Excusing herself, the young woman commented brightly, "I’m a short person, so whenever I can reach something, I feel a great sense of accomplishment!"

Grandpa Peter and the Belly Dancer at Karoun Restaurant in Newtonville Square

When Karoun Restaurant, a restaurant featuring Armenian and Middle Eastern food and music, was nestled in Newtonville Square on the corner of Washington and Walnut Streets, Grandpa Peter would, on occasion, treat the family to supper there . The kids loved the music of the Middle Eastern band and the Armenian and Arabic line dancing. On one such auspicious occasion, a belly dancer -- scantily clad -- was featured. Grandpa Peter was the only man in the room who was NOT ogling the belly dancer, and . . . yes, you guessed it . . . the belly dancer chose to wrap her veils around the one man who continued to ignore her -- Grandpa Peter. A handsome guy was Grandpa Peter, muscled with light skin and blue eyes, and very accustomed, (in this case and many others, Marash Girl is certain,) to women throwing themselves at him . . . both literally and figuratively. But his blue eyes were only for Grandma Jennie!!!!

Farewell to Stellina's!

Marash Girl and her family and friends loved Stellina's . . . a restaurant where new friends would meet and old friends would greet!!! Marash Girl and her family and friends shall miss the food, the service, and the Author Evenings where an author would present his latest publication, talk about the writing of it, entertain questions from the audience, and later, have dinner with those who chose to stay and indulge in the delicious selections from Stellina's menu. Marash Girl arrived early one day for an author presentation...so early that there was only one other person in the audience -- a fellow beside whom she sat. The two looked at eachother, smiled and attempted to engage in conversation. Marash Girl began. "Well, we can't talk about religion, we can't talk about politics, we can't talk about sex . . . I guess we'll have to talk about the book . . . except we haven't read it!!!" Remembering those days . . . but as Marash Girl's father used to say (as he was remembering his old days), "Those days are gone . . . forever!" We shall miss you Stellina's!!!

Fishy Welcome Sign

Photo by Marash Girl

The lighthouse featured in this "fishy" welcome sign (above) prompted Marash Girl to photograph the east wall of Steamers, 311 Watertown St, Nonantum (Newton), Massachusetts.  Steamers sells the freshest of fish, fish that can be purchased (fresh) and prepared at home, purchased freshly cooked and carried home to serve, or, even more fun, fish that can be selected onsite, prepared onsite, and served onsite (along with side dishes) at the few tables perched next to the shop's two large windows.  [Owner and fishmonger Domenic Vincenzino starts each day with an early morning trip to Boston's fish pier, acquiring daily only the freshest of fish for his loyal customers.] Whoops!  Did Marash Girl get carried away with the freshness of the fish and use the word "fresh"  just once too often in this paragraph?

Panera and the Kitchen Sink!

Panera always offers a special treat -- a free desert to celebrate on your birthday-- that is, if you've signed up for the treat on their website!  True to their word, Marash Girl was offered a special treat, a treat called the Kitchen Sink.  I kid you not!  What was the Kitchen Sink?  It was the biggest, fattest chocolate chip cookie you ever did see -- a promised 800 calories if you ate the whole cookie!  Did Marash Girl eat the whole cookie?  She's not telling!

Four Free Toppings!

One of the many delights of the grandchildren on their trips to Cape Cod was the local pizza shop which offered three free toppings every Tuesday. . . It had been years since Marash Girl had seen such generosity in a pizza shop, and now, she was in NYC with Marash Boy, awaiting the train to Boston, when Marash Boy decided to get lunch.  And guess what!  There it was, but even more generous!  Four free toppings for his pizza! What a wonderful surprise at the end of a wonderful weekend.  Marash Girl hastened to regale her granddaughter with the story, and yes, indeed, she too remembered:  three free toppings on Tuesdays in Sandwich, Massachusetts!

_ertucci's? What happened?

Marash Girl wanted to treat her friend to dinner -- hadn't seen her in a long time -- let her choose her favorite restaurant.  She chose _ertucci's in Newton Corner.  Okay!  We had both enjoyed a light supper there on other occasions.

The ambience was tough (very noisy) but the waitress seated the two women next to a window looking onto  the lovely cars speeding along Washington Street towards the entrance to the Massachusetts Turnpike.  That was fine.  The two women sat next to each other, rather than across from each other, so that they could shout into each other's ear and carry on a half-heard conversation.  The service was slow, but then it was a busy Thursday night. (Since when is Thursday evening a busy evening for a restaurant?)

So, to order.  Salad.  That couldn't be bad. (Or so they thought.)  When the salad came, the dressing was too much and too sweet. Marash Girl had forgotten to ask them to put the dressing on the side, or, better yet, as Marash Boy would have done, and Marash Girl should have done, to ask for oil and vinegar, the iceberg lettuce leaves wilted, and not much more in the salad other than a few carrot peelings.  Okay. But that was just the salad.  Then the pizza.  How could the pizza be bad?  An all white pizza, her friend suggested.  It came.  Rather white salt with some bread and cheese under it arrived.  And then, finally, for dessert (because they hadn't been able to eat too much of the pizza and hadn't learned their lesson yet), tiramisu.  How could anyone spoil tiramisu?  To be kind, it was the least memorable piece of tiramisu they had ever tasted.  They did, however, with some effort, get the fork through it!

What happened to _ertucci's?

But to be fair, the complimentary oil and fresh baked bread that was brought at the beginning of the meal was superb!

Overheard

Overheard at a local steakhouse:

"I had a salad. That counts as a vegetable, right?"

The Frisbee That Failed

The Errant Frisbee or, How To Fix a Frisbee That Fails

So there they were on the Cape and Helène wanted to treat King Dude to lunch; she decided to take him to a restaurant that gave a free gift to any kid who ordered a kid's meal.

Predictably,  King Dude ordered Mac 'n' Cheese.   Delicious, he reported.

But where was his gift?  Here it comes!  A red frisbee!

Yay!  Let's take it home and play!

King Dude, throw me the frisbee, said Marash Girl, as soon as they returned to Indian Hill Road.

King Dude threw the frisbee with all his young energy but the frisbee went awry -- in fact, it arched to the right, not up and over to Marash Girl.  Marash Girl figured (wrongly) that King Dude had deliberately thrown the frisbee into the bushes.  She rescued the frisbee, carefully aimed, and threw the frisbee -- you guessed it -- right into the bushes.  Wait a minute . . . she didn't aim the frisbee towards the bushes. . . what was going on here . . .

King Dude said, I'll get it and make a special effort to throw it straight, right to you, Ama.  As hard as he tried, the frisbee had a mind of its own . . . it went right into the bushes.

Now what!  King Dude said, "I'll get it right this time."  He threw the frisbee as hard as he could and this time, although the frisbee went far to the right of Marash Girl, it hit the tar and a hole broke into its side.  Oh, dear, said Marash Girl.   A piece just broke off of the side of your brand new frisbee.  Well, never mind.  Let 's try to keep playing.

And guess what happened next!  The frisbee worked perfectly!  It went straight as an arrow, directly to its destination; Marash Girl and King Dude were able to play frisbee for the rest of the week.

Who can tell us why the frisbee, after a hole broke into its side, worked perfectly?

See a Sea Gull at Sesuit Harbor

Okay, so you'd expect to see a seagull (sea a seegull?) on Sesuit Harbor in Dennis, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, but  buoy, oh, buoy, to see a buoy (hanging upside down) painted in the colors of the Armenian flag?

Helene made Marash Girl promise that she (Marash Girl) would visit the Sesuit Harbor Cafe for lunch, a lunch of the biggest lobster rolls she had ever had on the Cape.  Humoring Helene, Marash Girl, with Marash Boy driving,  followed Helene's directions to the Sesuit Harbor Cafe (off of route 6A on Sesuit Neck Road in Dennis, all the way down to the bay...)  After a few wrong turns, they found the cafe  located behind the shacks on their right, the cafe literally a clam shack on the ocean, overlooking the Northside Marina and Cape Cod Bay.  The couple ordered the most generous lobster rolls they had ever seen ($20 each, no credit cards accepted, cash or check only -- ) accompanied by freshly made cole slaw and perfectly crisp (minimally greasy) french fries.  Joining lobster enthusiasts from all over the Cape (and the world), they ate outside, overlooking the harbor, under umbrellas at wooden tables while the sparrows and the seagulls gazed longingly at their meal.

Next time you’re on the Cape, do visit

Sesuit Harbor Cafe

357 Sesuit Neck Rd, Dennis, MA 02638 (508) 385-6134

(Sesuit Harbor Cafe describes itself as “a classic Cape Cod clam shack offering outdoor dining overlooking Northside Marina and Cape Cod Bay. Open for breakfast, lunch or dinner . . .”)

Photos by Marash Girl

Where's the cheese?

Ordering a cheese pizza from Bertucci's? Think again . . .  Recently Marash Girl had a yen for pizza but it was after 10 PM.  Where could she go to get pizza at that hour?  Bertucci's!  What a mistake!
If she hadn't asked for extra cheese, there would have been no cheese! She was so outraged by the deminimus cheese on the pizza that she purchased at Bertucci's, that she just had to write this blog post.  Once warned is twice armed, folks!

Coffee, anyone?

Standing in line at McDonald's waiting patiently to order a cup of coffee, a burly young fellow was sipping from a cup of Dunkin' Donuts coffee.  When Marash Girl looked questioningly at him, he commented, "Well, you never know how long the line's gonna be here . . . "

A cup of hot coffee, please.

"I'll have a cup of hot coffee, please." Is that such a difficult order to fill?  Well, yes, apparently; if you live in New England, and you don't want to drink out of a paper or styrofoam cup, and it's winter!  Because in winter, all the china cups are as cold as the ambient temperature, which is pretty cold, so no matter how hot the coffee is to begin with, as soon as it hits that cold cup, the coffee is , at best, warm.  Thus Peter, Marash Girl's father, was always left asking the waitress (at his weekly Marriott "guys" luncheon,) if she could bring him a cup of HOT coffee!  No one figured it out, really.  They kept saying, but the coffee is hot.

But it wasn't.

And finally, at the Public House in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, Marash Girl had her first truly hot cup of coffee, hot even after adding cream.  And why?  Because it was clear that the Publick House had heated its china coffee cups BEFORE pouring the hot coffee into the cups.  And oh, was that coffee good!  Father Peter would have loved it!

Try Zaytoun!

Tired of the hustle and bustle (now there's a really old-fashioned word) . . . let's try again . . .

Tired of the screaming music and 30 minute waits while you're crowded into the windy entrance of a popular restaurant on Smith Street in Brooklyn Heights? (Luluc, to be exact!) The music was so loud that Marash Girl had trouble even imagining how to swallow the food that might be offered at brunch, much less how to taste it . . . After 20 minutes of cuddling with numerous other hopefuls in the frosty restaurant entranceway, Marash Girl and her entourage decided to try another luncheon venue -- but what? There were many small restaurants along the throroughfare, but all of them were empty . . . this could not bode well.   Marash Girl's son Deron solved the dilemma, (as he is so often wont to do when restaurants or geographical questions rear their pretty heads . . . ) "I know a small place with delicious food -- Zaytoun -- it's right up the street -- only a short 6 block walk."

[Beginning on Smith Street, in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn Heights, it would be a mere 15 minute walk  from Montague (the main drag in Brooklyn Heights) in good weather,-- of course, on this day the roads were covered with ice and slush and snow as were the sidewalks, and snow was raining from the skies!]

Zaytoun Restaurant - Photos by Marash Girl

Seated at Zaytoun, a major discussion ensued when Marash Girl found garmir kufte incorrectly named and attributed to an ethnicity other than her own, but since she makes garmir kufte all the time, she knew what it was . . . Marash Boy's great grandmother -- an ethnic Armenian, as is Marash Girl -- made it all the time . . . Now let's call an Armenian dish an Armenian dish!

Appetizers at Zaytoun . . . Garmir Kufte on the right

Zaytoun did not disappoint us!  The service was charming and the food tasted as good as it looks (see photo by Marash Girl above)!

Sleeping through breakfast . . .

Breakfasting in Springfield, Massachusetts, having wended her way down to the corner breakfast place through yesterday morning's sleet and snow and fog and cold, Marash Girl noticed that there was a fellow sleeping in the corner of the coffee shop.  Feeling a bit uncomfortable about having breakfast while a stranger was sleeping directly across from her, she thought she'd  better report the occurrence to the management.  The management immediately walked over to the corner, took a look at the sleeping man, and reported, "Oh, he's a regular," returning to his managing with no concern whatsoever.

A regular what? Marash Girl wondered, as she turned to take a sip of her coffee.

Should there be a law against tipping?

Sometime in the early 1980's, Andy Rooney wrote an essay entitled "Tipping".  What was his position on tipping? No subtlety there.  In his opening sentence he states, "I'd be just as happy if they passed a law tomorrow making tipping illegal."  Marash Girl had just finished reading the essay [Andrew Rooney, AND MORE BY ANDY ROONEY. New York, Atheneum, 1982] when she turned on WBUR's Here and Now . . . Robin Young and Jeremy Hobson were asking food writer Corby Kummer of The Atlantic and Boston Magazine the question, "Is The Restaurant Tipping Model Bad For Waitstaff?"  Their position was not very far from Rooney's position in the 1980's.

Is it possible that Robin Young. Jeremy Hobson or Corby Kummer had ever read Rooney's essay before they did the show? (Marash Girl thought that she could hear Andy Rooney, long time 60 Minutes commentator, right there cheering them on!)  

If you are inclined to pursue this question further, check out Robin Young and Jeremy Hobson interviewing  Corby Kummer on WBUR http://hereandnow.wbur.org/2013/09/04/restaurant-tipping-model and for sure, read those essays by Andy Rooney!

Sergi and the Tabasco Sauce Solution

Riddling the last week of fun and games with Iffar and Elina was a joke about the fly in the soup . . .

Customer in restaurant:  Waiter, what is this fly doing in my soup?

Waiter:  It looks like it's doing the back stroke.

The joke, no matter how many times it was told at the table on the front porch, brought forth gales of laughter from the little ones who told it.  Perhaps because they had just returned from summer camp where there had been plenty of flies; perhaps because they had just spent a week doing the back stroke. Hopefully not because they had seen flies in their soup.

None the less, when Marash Girl and Ranek were having lunch at Legal Seafoods in Framingham, a black fly insisted on visiting their table.

"Waiter, there's a fly buzzing around our table."  The waiter, rather than suggesting that the fly was doing loop-de-loops to entertain us, simply answered, "I'll get the Tabasco Sauce."  

Nonplussed, Ranek and Marash Girl looked at each other, and at the fly as it continued to loop-de-loop around the corner table at which they were seated.

Soon the waiter returned with a saucer that had been splashed with a teaspoonful of Tabasco Sauce.  He placed the saucer on the table, and . . . .

The fly fled .  . . And never returned.  

Can anyone out there explain the chemistry of this miracle cure?

Sculptor of Boston Common's Ducklings dines at the Karoun Restaurant

Nancy Schon at the Karoun (Armenian) Restaurant, Newtonville, Massachusetts        Photo Credit: Marash Girl

If you were listening to WBUR yesterday, you may have heard the interview  http://www.wbur.org/2012/06/15/nancy-schon-ducklings with Nancy Schon, the sculptor who sculpted the ducklings that wander across the Boston Common (after the book, Make Way for Ducklings, written and illustrated by Robert McCloskey, a children's picture book set in Boston, first published in 1941). 

It was quite a surprise to meet the personable Schon last night at the Karoun (Armenian) Restaurant in Newtonville.  Overhearing that Marash Girl was a regular at the restaurant, Schon introduced herself (not as the sculptor, of course) as a long-time resident, born and bred in Newton!  When Marash Girl asked Schon if she knew Marash Girl's father Peter (Newtonville Electric Company in Newtonville),  Schon said she wasn't sure, but added that Schon's father was Quint Florist in Newton Centre.  It turned out that their fathers were very good friends back in the day!  

Schon's studio is in Newtonville, the birthplace of those little ducklings, and Marash Girl's birthplace as well!

Lobster Rolls in Monson, Massachusetts?

Marash Girl, a lover of lobster, and especially lobster rolls,  returning from a (sad) visit to Wilbraham, consumed  (in totality) the king of lobster rolls.  On a toasted bun and covered with melted butter, the lobster roll, served hot, (can you believe it?) was full of succulent large, tender pieces of lobster.  Upon asking the owner why she served her lobster rolls hot, she answered,
"My husband comes from New Haven. The folks in New Haven always serve their lobster rolls hot!"



An unlikely place to stop if you didn't know better, CJ's  hot lobster roll is worth the trip out Route 20 to Monson/Palmer, Massachusetts:

371 Wilbraham St, Palmer, MA 01069 (413) 283-2196

 And for those of you who prefer burgers to lobster, CJ's offers your choice of 2 hamburgers, 2 cheeseburgers or 2 hot dogs with fries for $4.99!!!

You can eat outdoors or more sedately indoors in a rather nicely paneled dining area.

The only reason you might think twice about stopping at CJ's (if you didn't know better) is its location, right next to the  Magic Lantern, a strip joint that's been going strong on Route 20 (Boston Road), Monson, MA since at least the 1940's!

The Red Sox, the Union Oyster House, and the freshest scrod in town!

Union Oyster House, Boston's oldest restaurant, proudly displays Boston (Red Sox) Memorabilia and proudly serves the freshest of fish, including scrod which they define as baby codfish.
(If you dine at Legal Seafood, they'll tell you that their  "scrod" is any white fish that might be in the kitchen that day!)

[For an interesting and sometimes hilarious discussion of the word "scrod", see Wikipedia's history of Boston's use (and sometimes intentional misuse) of  the term "scrod".   Can you guess what it is?]