[Entry to the old Buttonwood Cafe]
"Wait! What? You're going to go to McDonald's over Magnolia's?"
My friends and I are having a cafe crisis.
"There's two things you don't mess with: People's food and their money. In that order."
Well, our food is definitely being messed with. One cafe was sold and the new owners seem to be totally unaware that the cafe's existing culture revolves around the existing menu. Equally, it's the quality of the food on the menu.
"I had the worst omelet. It was paper thin with just a few mushrooms, onion, and very little cheese tossed in."
~~~
"I wonder if the Buttonwood Cafe's owner really will start selling soups and breads near me. At least something."
The second cafe was in a building over 100 years old. The owners of the building have allowed it to fall into disrepair.
"It's to the point that they wanted to just tear it down and start over. They were told by the town that if they do that they will never be allowed to have another restaurant on this site again."
"The wood came from boats that were at the bottom of Lake Michigan."
~~~
The quotes are various things I've heard said in the cafes or about them.
Yes. This is a crisis.
Now, you people that live in big cities that are nothing but chain restaurant clusters have no concept of what I'm talking about. I know this because I've been you.
In the area where I now live, it is a string of small villages with cafe's and delis owned, managed, and promoted by people who live in the area. Sometimes they live just upstairs above the cafe.
The Chefs are usually the owners. The food is often local, sometimes organic, and seldom out of a can. Many of the cafes serve the average comfort food. Some serve amazing food.
The two cafes that we've lost were not just places where amazing and great food was served. They were willing to let us come in and stay for hours. Visit, write, study. It's where we saw our neighbors. It's where we learned about the local news. It's where we learned about the community's history. Not only is it okay to speak to the stranger at the next table, it was considered neighborly to at least say hello. It's kind of how we kept an eye each other's well-being. "Is Joe okay? He's not been in for days."
They weren't places to put on airs and pretend to be somebody. You already were somebody just because you walked in the door.
