4/23/10

The old guard is disappearing.  Several years ago, a guy named Vito sold a restaurant called Vito's and then went back to Italy.  After a few years, seeing that he didn't enjoy retirement all that much, Vito returned to America and bought Roma's.  The new owners of Vito's had preserved its tradition and Vito had established a new tradition at Roma's.  Then, somewhere along the way, the new Vito's people put their kids in charge.  Cue the pool tables, jukeboxes, etc.  And thus one Lincoln Park tradition went by the wayside.  The place is still open but it just isn't the same.

Around five years ago, Vito had a heart attack in front of the pizza oven at Roma's.  Morti.  The restaurant has continued to operate in his absence and, as of my last visit there last year, the food was still good.  Something of the feel has been lost though, without the fat sweaty Italian dude standing at the door to the kitchen and thanking each of his patrons as they walk past.  The place is still open but it just isn't the same.

When I was a kid, Chiarelli's Market was always the place to which my mother sent me whenever she needed milk or bread or lunch meat.  I could usually ride my bike over there but sometimes, if there would be too much to carry, I had to walk.  As the business was passed down through the generations, something started to slip.  Maybe you wanted a pound of prosciutto on Monday and they were out of prosciutto until Wednesday.  Maybe you got home with a fresh pepperoni roll and found that it was actually stale and not fresh at all.  Somewhere along the way, the store closed its doors.  It was remodeled and revamped during the down time, reopening after around a year of having been closed.  Alas, the market has shifted.  The demographics have shifted.  The economy has shifted.  Chiarelli's has been officially out of business for several months now.

Following this morning's funeral service at St. Henry's Church, I was invited to join the family for lunch at Clemente's Restaurant, another of the old Downriver originals.  To tell you the truth, I don't really like the food at Clemente's.  It's a local tradition though, and the Pedro family have been friends with the owners for years.  Rose Clemente had been at Mrs. Pedro's funeral and mentioned that the restaurant will be closing at the end of June, so this was likely my last visit there.  A car dealership or something will soon occupy the spot on Fort Street that has hosted family gatherings for many decades.  The Italians are leaving, so to speak.  One more slow step in the painstaking demise of my home state.

The drive down to South Bend was quick and easy.  I managed to get the charcoal grill fired up in-between brief spells of rain, so the cheeseburgers for dinner were quite delicious.  Let's hope for kinda sorta decent weather tomorrow.  That's all I ask.