All New England Books

LA Eatery Has Rhode Island Roots


BY ELISABETH HARRISON

Seafood takes center stage at Providence in Los Angeles.


Foodies in Los Angeles are flocking to a restaurant named after Rhode Island’s capital city.
The restaurant Providence has received two stars from the Michelin Guide. Rhode Island Public Radio’s Elisabeth Harrison spoke with Head Chef Michael Cimarusti
efore he opened a top-rated restaurant in Los Angeles, Chef Michael Cimarusti grew up spending vacations with his grandparents in Rhode Island.
He remembers summers on Scarborough Beach, where the clam cakes were to die for.
"There used to be a shack literally, like, right in the middle of Scarborough Beach," Cimarusti reminisced. "We’d spend all day on the beach and around noon or one o’clock my mother or my grandfather would give us 10 bucks, and we’d go get a dozen or a half dozen, and those are some of my earliest and fondest food memories."
Cimarusti says fishing with his grandfather was another inspiration for his restaurant Providence, which focuses on seafood.
He uses razor clams for his version of clam cakes, and a recipe from his grandmother's kitchen.
"I have a handwritten copy of her recipe, and that’s something that’s been on our menu since we opened just because, God, I love clam cakes when they’re done right."
Providence features multi-course tasting menus and dinners that can last several hours. But for simpler fare, Cimarusti has also opened Connie and Ted’s, a restaurant named in honor of his grandparents .
The menu includes Rhode Island specialties like fried clams and stuffies.
"We do traditional Rhode Island chowder there, along with Portuguese fisherman’s stew. All sorts of classic Rhode Island fare that I remember eating growing up," said Cimarusti.


Mr. Weenie



Rhode Island, a State Sized Just Right to Contain Its Pride



By KATHARINE Q. SEELYE


   Rhode Island was the state least appreciated by its public in a recent Gallup poll. Culinary quirks like Olneyville New York System’s hot wieners in Providence, however, draw praise. Credit Gretchen Ertl for The New York Times 

PROVIDENCE, R.I. — A lot of people here say that Rhode Island suffers from being the smallest state in the country. Jimmy Saccoccio, manager of the Olneyville New York System, a popular diner, agrees.

“They say in Rhode Island, if you’re going to cheat on your husband or your wife, go out of state because Rhode Island is too small,” he said with a laugh.

Poor Little Rhody. Not only is it the smallest state, it is often a punch line. And in many state rankings, it comes out on top for the wrong things, like having the nation’s highest rate of unemployment.

Now comes yet another blow to the state’s fragile self-esteem. A Gallup poll found that of all 50 states, Rhode Island was the least appreciated by its own residents. Only 18 percent of Rhode Islanders said their state was the best place or one of the best places to live. Illinois did not fare much better — only 19 percent were proud of their state. But even Mississippi, a habitual laggard in standard-of-living metrics, earned higher marks in the Galluppoll, with 26 percent of its residents calling it the best state or one of the best.

These levels of dissatisfaction stood in sharp contrast to the satisfaction of residents in several states out West. Tied at the top were Montana and Alaska, where 77 percent of residents thought highly of their state.

Most of the top 10 states feature wide-open spaces and small populations; Rhode Island, by contrast, is one of the most densely packed. But that is cold comfort to Rhode Island, since two other small New England states — New Hampshire and Vermont — made the top 10.

So what ails Rhode Island?

Many people interviewed here on a recent soggy day pinned the blame on the state’s struggling economy. Manufacturing declined after the textile industry moved South, and the jewelry industry has been outstripped by foreign competitors. And the state has been slow to rebound from the recession.

“They can’t get jobs,” said Mario Forte, 85, who is long retired from the jewelry business. He was standing out of the rain in a storefront on Atwells Avenue in Federal Hill, Providence’s Italian neighborhood, which bustles with restaurants. “You give a man a job, he’s happy,” Mr. Forte said.

And just as often, people pointed to Rhode Island’s reputation for corruption.
 “The government is corrupt, and the poverty rate is high,” said Gary Balletto, 38, a former professional boxer who was eating lunch at Venda Ravioli.

They spoke not far from the site of an old pinball business that was the base of operations for a notorious New England crime family. The Mafia is much diminished now, and studies suggest that, at least as measured by convictions of public officials, Rhode Island is far less corrupt than many other states.

Nonetheless, the perception persists that Rhode Island, measuring just 48 miles from north to south and 37 from east to west, is overstuffed with miscreants and reprobates.

“Even in good times, Rhode Island has had a little bit of an inferiority complex, caused in part by being the smallest state and by having a history of political corruption,” said John Marion, executive director of Common Cause Rhode Island.

“People like to go back to George Washington calling it Rogue’s Island and Lincoln Steffens calling it a state for sale on the cheap,” he said. Steffens, the muckraker, wrote a devastating article in 1905 in which he detailed the graft and bribery here, starting with party bosses buying citizens’ votes and calling those payments “compensation for time lost in visiting the polls.”

More recently, the speaker of the House abruptly resigned in March under a still-unexplained cloud after federal and state agents raided his office. Other highlights include the time the sitting governor crawled into a Dumpster outside Walt’s Roast Beef in Cranston to retrieve an envelope containing a $10,000 bribe; his waitress had inadvertently tossed it out.

The name Vincent A. Cianci Jr., who is known as Buddy, often pops up in conversations about Rhode Island. A former mayor of Providence, he was forced to resign after a felony conviction for assault (he threatened a man with a burning log); he was later re-elected mayor and forced to resign a second time after another felony conviction.

In an interview, Mr. Cianci, 73, now a popular radio host and a potential candidate for mayor again this year, blew off the notion that Rhode Islanders were discouraged by the pervasive aura of corruption. “Corruption is everywhere,” he said. “We haven’t cornered the market.”

He attributed their dissatisfaction instead to high taxes, leaders who are “bean counters” instead of “risk-takers” and the state’s size, which makes everyone’s activities more noticeable.

“Here, everybody knows what’s going on, and every little nitty-gritty thing they do is under a microscope,” he said. “You could drop an atomic bomb on parts of Texas and no one would know.”

Rhode Island is heavily Democratic, heavily Roman Catholic and heavily unionized. Some say the state is beholden to its unions, as evinced by its generous pension system. But the high cost of government, said Robert D. Atkinson, the former executive director of the defunct Rhode Island Economic Policy Council, is not matched by a high quality of services.

For some politicians, the Gallup results are a call to arms; the governor’s race this year is shaping up in part as a contest over who can best pull the state out of its funk.

“Lifting the self-esteem of the state is absolutely something I need to address as governor,” said Mayor Angel Taveras of Providence, a Democrat running for governor.

Claiborne Pell IV, grandson of Senator Claiborne Pell and another Democrat candidate, said restoring faith in state government was “at the heart” of his campaign because without it, nothing else could get done.

Gina M. Raimondo, the state treasurer and also a Democrat running for governor, takes a white board to campaign events and asks voters to list why they believe in Rhode Island. It is her way of getting them to think about the state’s positive attributes.

“The malaise is driven by the economy and the lack of jobs,” she said. “Rhode Island needs a leader who has optimism for the future and who knows and believes we can be better.”

Despite the complaints, many of those interviewed said they liked living here and would never move. They love the easy access to the ocean. They are proud of Newport, an old-world moneyed coastal community where Jacqueline Bouvier and John F. Kennedy were married in 1953.

And they are especially proud of their restaurants and their culinary quirks. The official state drink is coffee milk, a mixture of milk and coffee syrup. Rhode Islanders boast of their snail salads. They are devoted to their version of the hot dog, called, oddly enough, New York System hot wieners. They are served at Olneyville New York System, which was just named a 2014 James Beard Foundation American Classic.

Mr. Cianci, the former mayor, suggested that the 82 percent of residents who told Gallup that Rhode Island was not among the best states should spend a weekend in Newport, eat in a Providence restaurant or visit the Rhode Island School of Design.

“Then,” he said, “they should go to Pocatello, Idaho, and see what they can do there on a Saturday night.”


Olneyville serves a top-notch rendition of Rhode Island's classic hot wiener


 PROVIDENCE, R.I.  Don't call them hot dogs and don't ask for ketchup.
Those are the cardinal rules at Olneyville New York System, arguably the best-known Rhode Island spot for one of the state's signature dishes: hot wieners.
"Dish" is probably an overstatement. These are veal, pork and beef wieners slathered with mustard, covered in special meat sauce, topped with chopped onions and celery salt, and served in a steamed bun. Ordering one with all the fixings is called "all the way." Many say all the way is the only way.
"They're so greasy but good," said Paula Malone of Gloces¬ter, who came in one recent lunch hour with a colleague from the Providence VA Medical Center to pick up a big order. As in 33 hot wieners, seven coffee milks — coffee syrup-sweetened milk, another Rhode Island staple — and 10 orders of fries, all for a Mardi Gras office party.
Hot wieners got some national recognition last month when Olneyville New York System was named an "America's Classic" by the James Beard Foundation.
The $2.15 wieners are small, so lots of customers order a few at a time. The grillers prepare them in a way that's known as "up the arm" — balancing a row of buns and wieners on their forearms, then adding each ingredient in quick, choreographed succession.
The Food Network's Guy Fieri raved about Olneyville's hot wieners in a segment of "The Best Thing I Ever Ate."
"Come for the hot wieners and stay for the show," he said. "Can't beat it."
Last year, Providence Mayor Angel Taveras appeared on the cover of The Providence Phoenix's "The Best" issue behind the restaurant's counter, grinning with a hot wiener in hand.
Rhode Islanders love their weenies. As co-owner Greg Stevens says, the place has no demographic. It's just as likely you'll see a state politician at the counter as you will a police officer, a student or a foodie. A guy driving a Bentley once asked him for a New York System bumper sticker.
According to Stevens, who with his sister Stephanie took over the restaurant two years ago when their father died, the state's first hot wiener restaurant — Original New York System — opened in Providence in the late 1920s.
His family, then with the surname Stav¬ria¬na¬kos, came to Rhode Island in the 1930s in a wave of Greek immigrants from New York, one of the hot dog capitals of the world. Olneyville New York System opened in 1946 around the corner from its current location.
There are plenty of places to get wieners in the state, like Sam's New York System in North Providence, Wein-O-Rama in Cranston and Moonlight House of Weiners in Woonsocket.
Not much has changed at the Olneyville spot, and that's by design. The booths are throwback yellow and orange, and the tables are 1950s Formica. Jimmy Saccoccio, now the general manager, has been working there since 1968. The hot wieners are pretty much the same, too.
"You don't fix what isn't broken," Stevens said.
During a recent lunch hour, a couple from Boston sitting in a middle booth are easily identified by the counter staff as "weenie virgins." It's not uncommon to get a playful, or embarrassing, shout-out: "Virgin in the house!" Stevens says he can spot someone who's never had one as soon as he or she walks in the door.
Call the wieners hot dogs and you'll be corrected immediately. And ketchup is strongly discouraged. A sign on the wall warns, "It Has Been Said That When You Put Ketchup on A Hot Wiener, It Is a Sin … Here It Is Against the Law!'
Bumble Taylor, 38, of Providence has been coming to Olneyville New York System since 1981. When he was a kid, he used to panhandle in the old grocery store parking lot to make a few bucks, which he'd use to buy hot wieners.
"Everybody comes in — they got to have a weenie," Taylor said.


Rhode Island's Hot Wiener: Don't Call It a Hot Dog



PROVIDENCE, R.I. March 9, 2014 (AP)
By ERIKA NIEDOWSKI Associated Press


Don't call them hot dogs and don't ask for ketchup.
Those are the cardinal rules at Olneyville New York System, arguably the best-known Rhode Island spot for one of the state's signature dishes: hot wieners.
"Dish" is probably an overstatement. These are veal, pork and beef wieners slathered with mustard, covered in special meat sauce, topped with chopped onions and celery salt, and served in a steamed bun. Ordering one with all the fixings is called "all the way." Many say all the way is the only way.
"They're so greasy but good," said Paula Malone of Glocester, who came in one recent lunch hour with a colleague from the Providence VA Medical Center to pick up a big order. As in 33 hot wieners, seven coffee milks — coffee syrup-sweetened milk, another Rhode Island staple — and 10 orders of fries, for a Mardi Gras office party.
Hot wieners got some national recognition last month, when Olneyville New York System was named an "America's Classic" by the James Beard Foundation.
The $2.15 wieners are small so lots of customers order a few at a time. The grillers prepare them in a way that's known as "up the arm" — balancing a row of buns and wieners on their forearms, then adding each ingredient in quick, choreographed succession.
The Food Network's Guy Fieri raved about Olneyville's hot wieners in a segment of "The Best Thing I Ever Ate." ''Come for the hot wieners and stay for the show," he said. "Can't beat it."
Last year, Providence Mayor Angel Taveras appeared on the cover of The Providence Phoenix's "The Best" issue behind the restaurant's counter, grinning with a hot wiener in hand.
Rhode Islanders love their weenies. As co-owner Greg Stevens says, the place has no demographic. It's just as likely you'll see a state politician at the counter as you will a police officer, a student or a foodie. A guy driving a Bentley once asked him for a New York System bumper sticker.
According to Stevens, who with his sister Stephanie took over the restaurant two years ago when their father died, the state's first hot wiener restaurant — Original New York System — opened in Providence in the late 1920s.
His family, then with the surname Stavrianakos, came to Rhode Island in the 1930s in a wave of Greek immigrants from New York, one of the hot dog capitals of the world. Olneyville New York System opened in 1946 around the corner from its current location. There are plenty of places to get wieners in the state, like Sam's New York System in North Providence, Wein-O-Rama in Cranston and Moonlight House of Weiners in Woonsocket.
Not much has changed at the Olneyville spot, and that's by design. The booths are throwback yellow and orange, and the tables are 1950s Formica. Jimmy Saccoccio, now the general manager, has been working there since 1968. The hot wieners are pretty much the same, too.
"You don't fix what isn't broken," Stevens said.
During a recent lunch hour, a couple from Boston sitting in a middle booth are easily identified by the counter staff as "weenie virgins." It's not uncommon to get a playful, or embarrassing, shout-out: "Virgin in the house!" Stevens says he can spot someone who's never had one as soon as he or she walks in the door.
Call the wieners hot dogs and you'll be corrected immediately. And ketchup is strongly discouraged. There's a sign on the wall that says, "It Has Been Said That When You Put Ketchup on A Hot Wiener, It Is a Sin ... Here It Is Against the Law!'
Bumble Taylor, 38, of Providence, has been coming to Olneyville New York System since 1981. When he was a kid, he used to panhandle in the old grocery store parking lot to make a few bucks, which he'd use to buy hot wieners.
"Everybody comes in — they got to have a weenie," Taylor said.



‘CASH MOB’ FLOCKS TO SPARKY’S CONEY ISLAND SYSTEM IN EFFORT TO SAVE STRUGGLING DINER



   
 Journal Staff Writer 

EAST PROVIDENCE — Until George “Sparky” Watts went public with his money worries, he was just another struggling small businessman.
But if he has many more lunchtimes like the one he had Saturday, he might have to rename his diner the Golden Weenie.
A “cash mob” flooded into Sparky’s Coney Island System diner from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., buying paper plates full of hot wieners and other food items in a concerted effort to save his bacon. Most of the wiener sales appeared to be “all the way,” meaning topped with mustard, meat sauce, chopped onions and celery salt.
Standing behind the counter of the diner, a fixture on Taunton Avenue near City Hall since the 1940s, he fought to maintain his emotional composure.
Sparky, 58, a Riverside native who proclaims himself “a Townie, red and white all the way through,” marveled as his 55 seats filled up and then some.
“I’m making a lot of new friends,” he declared.
A cash mob is a group of people who buy en masse from a merchant at a particular time, reminiscent of another phenomenon of the social media age, the “flash mob.” A flash mob, recruited through social media such as instant-messaging, generally gathers to dance in public, or for another kind of performance.
A campaign to save Sparky began when he confided to a loyal customer, Janis Mooradian, that he probably would have to close because business had been so poor.
It would be a sad end for the Coney Island System diner, better known for its former proprietor, the late civic leader James T. Kanelos, who employed Sparky as a young man.
Mooradian, who lives “around the corner” and has marketing experience, would have none of it. She already was a big fan of the Little Rhody wieners from Rhode Island Provisions that Sparky serves up, periodically shipping a boxful in dry ice to her brother in Las Vegas.
“I pulled a Gordon Ramsay on him,” she said Saturday, in reference to the Scottish restaurant turnaround expert known for his tough-love approach on the TV reality show “Hell’s Kitchen.”
She had the diner repainted and began plotting a more extensive re-do, had him begin printing T-shirts with a wiener logo and pressed him to broaden and upgrade his menu selections. Sparky installed a new point-of-sale terminal so he could accept charge cards and expanded his days of operation to Sunday.
“We have to keep Sparky’s,” Mooradian said. “He’s a neighborhood staple.”
After Sparky complained about the plight of small business on his Facebook page and when he was interviewed on TV, he was noticed by Edward Doyle, information technology director for a manufacturing company. Sparky said that despite his 18-year proprietorship of the diner, he had been unable to get a loan to provide working capital.
Doyle, a candidate for the Democratic nomination for the state representative seat in Johnston now held by Democrat Deborah A. Fellela, created a bipartisan team with Rep. Doreen M. Costa, R-North Kingstown.
They made the diner a cause célèbre on Facebook and cooked up Saturday’s promotional event. The effort helps someone in need and, secondarily, draws attention from the State House, Doyle said.
“He’s a symbol,” Doyle said. “We’ve got to fight to keep small businesses in Rhode Island.