MIRROR
Shuoqi Chen/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
04.03.2015
The MAN BEHIND THE FOOD|2
THE PIZZAS THEY CARRIED|3
LASAGNA AT THE ANTI-HOSPITAL|4-5
hanover restaurants|6
2// MIRROR
EDITOR’S NOTE You might expect that when I was named Mirror Editor this fall, I would have been most excited to use The Mirror as an arm for thorough, thoughtful investigations that inspire campus conversation. Alas: I might’ve been a new dog back in the fall, but I was far too stubborn to be taught a new trick. If you have read this column in the past term, you’d know that I recoil from campus dialogue — or anything now, for that matter. No, what I have yearned for as Mirror Editor — the sacred cow to which I have prayed — has been something else entirely. During wide-eyed meetings in Robinson Hall throughout the fall and winter, my thoughts often drifted elsewhere. I sleepwalked through eight issues of The Mirror. For all I have been thinking of has been these very pages: our very first (note to my readers and editors: do not fact-check this) food issue. Why food writing? Well, I’m someone who firmly believes that over-caffeinated verbiage makes a strong substitute for actually having something to say. Food writing is the ne plus ultra of this philosophy. I could see it so clearly: The Mirror’s food issue would incorporate words like “purée” and “mince” and “broiled,” and our readers would never think to analyze the substance of these pages. Hell, I might even overcome my distaste for investigations because I could sneak in food words like “zesty” or “pickled” — thereby allowing me to publish my dream headline, “You Will Never Believe This Zesty, Pickled Secret About Phil Hanlon.” It would be like a series of my Editor’s Notes, except eight pages long: meaningless, not-so-vaguely insulting and liable to get hurled violently in my face when I’m least expecting it. Thus when my writers submitted their articles this week, I felt as if they’d deflated a closely-held dream. Rather than prioritizing food, they emphasized people. They managed to salvage an issue primed for me to torpedo with errant inclusions of words like “saucy” and “saccharine.” Instead they wrote pieces that display a nuanced understanding of how closely intertwined food remains with human life. So I’ll have to make due. Have a zesty and pickled weekend.
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MIRROR R MIRROR EDITOR CHARLIE RAFKIN
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF KATIE McKAY
PUBLISHER JUSTIN LEVINE
EXECUTIVE EDITORS LUKE McCANN JESSICA AVITABILE
Which meal plan should I buy?
The Man Behind The Food profile
B y Mark Anderson
It doesn’t take long after matriculation for students to realize that there isn’t an overwhelming number of on-campus facilities to choose from. Students at various universities, particularly those in more urban areas, often have a wealth of culinary options, with local grocery stores and restaurants around their respective campuses offering potential alternatives to on-campus dining. While Hanover offers a handful of restaurants, students at the College are largely confined to the dining options provided by Dartmouth Dining Services. With near monopolistic power in the College’s food market, one of DDS’s most important responsibilities — and one that most directly affects nearly ever student on campus — is choosing menu options that appropriately meet the students’ needs. Peter Chojnacki resolves that problem. You’ve probably seen him in the Class of 1953 Commons, and you’ve probably forgotten him. Invariably clad in his blue dress shirt and unwavering smile, Chojnacki often blends in with the other employees of FoCo, unseen by many students as they pace between the Ma Thayer and World View stations and back again. In all honesty, when I first met Chojnacki, nothing in his unassuming demeanor gave the impression he may wield influence over what many students are choosing to eat each day. But what a mere glance won’t reveal is that Chojnacki is responsible for making decisions that affect the lives of every student here at the College. His influence surrounds us. But his presence remains unseen. While his official title is FoCo’s board plan manager, Peter Chojnacki is essentially the cafeteria’s “menu maker.” Love Chicken Mondays? Chojnacki is your guy. Not thrilled about the pickles on your cheeseburger pizza? Send your letters to Chojnacki. As the largest on-campus dining location and the one with the most diverse menu options, no other dining option sees the same influx of students coming through its doors each day as FoCo. Chojnacki needs to feed thousands of mouths each week — and he needs to provide the variety and healthy options that many students have come to expect from their school cafeterias. “Are you Mark Anderson?” he inquired when I walked up to him before an interview. Judging by his smile, you might have guessed Chojnacki had just won the lottery. I hadn’t seen anything quite like it since my mother picked me up from the airport at the beginning of winter break. After a few moments in Chojnacki’s office, it became clear that he takes organization to heart. The only items on his desk that weren’t fettered in place were three stacks of paper — all perfectly parallel and adjacent. The piles on
What should be my go-to complaint about DDS?
Daniel Berthe/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Peter Chojnacki is FoCo’s “menu maker” — he is responsible for organizing FoCo’s meals. the left and the right appeared to be personal, handwritten notes. The middle stack, though, is what interests us, for it contains the fruit of Chojnacki’s labors — an itinerary of foods that would be served in FoCo. Not just for the current spring term, mind you, but plans for many terms to come. Chojnacki, who has been working at DDS for nearly two years, said each dining establishment on campus has its respective staff that writes its menus. Novak Cafe, for instance, has its own personnel who determine its menu, while the Courtyard Cafe has another, entirely independent group that oversees its own. At FoCo, the menu selection process is quite simple. First, the staff determines a list of foods that they will serve during each term. “We have a seasonal menu cycle, so we’ll have a different basket of menu items for the fall, winter, spring and summer,” Chojnacki said. These items are chosen prior to the start of each school year, based on the staff’s expectations for availability of various foods. Though these predictions are made quite far in advance, Chojnacki said that they’re rarely surprised — this isn’t the sort of job that demands game-time decision making. Rather, it demands a great deal of energy, seamless organizational skills and intimate knowledge of the industry. DDS culinary director Ron Moore, who helps Chojnacki write the menus, walked me through some tricks of the trade. “If you’ve been in the business long enough, you know that fresh asparagus is going to be outrageously pricey in the winter and that strawberries will also be expensive and mushy during that season,” Moore said. Once Chojnacki selects the ingredients, he uses this predetermined basket to craft a menu and detail when and how the foods will
What is the most unique on-campus meal?
Nothing unifies campus life quite like Want to pad DDS’s coffers? The a gripe. Now that DBA rolls over, Convenience45 plan results in an though, students have floundered The General Tso’s queso at average of $15.44 cost per meal in their search for new complaints the Cour tyard Cafe might be a swipe — which is more than paying to raise against DDS. Solution: I culinarily incomprehensible mash-up out of pocket at any DDS location. think that FoCo’s “herb-crusted of unlike cuisines that would make any Want the most efficient plan? That’ll cod” is deser ving of gripe restaurateur cringe. But it is damn tasty. be the Smar tChoice20, where the status, and I urge campus to per-swipe costs is just $8.75. unite around it.
be served. The menu-writing process is far from simple. Crafting a menu that’s appetizing, incorporates a variety of different healthy options and meets the variety of students’ dietary needs and restrictions, not only on each given day, but for the course of an entire week, takes a great deal of time and effort. “It takes a good week, maybe two weeks to prepare one week’s menu from scratch,” Chojncki said, as he described the process of both planning out and preparing the menu items at FoCo. Chojnacki isn’t just a meal planner, though — he’s also a boss. He knows how to run an efficient, tightly-knit operation and simultaneously show his employees his appreciation. Ekene Aguolu ’17, who has worked in the dish room for all but one of his terms at the College, said Chojnacki was “a really nice boss.” “When we would talk, he would always ask about how my classes were going,” he said. Aguolu reminisced about the time he spent working at FoCo during our interview, saying “I really loved working there.” Elijah Soko ’16, who previously worked under Chojnacki as a dishwasher in FoCo, said Chojnacki marries efficiency with humor, which she said makes a big difference in the dish room. “One time he just kind of joked like he was going to throw something at me, and I just kinda ducked,” he said. “Afterwards he was like, ‘Wait, wait I was just joking!’” To those who work with him, he’s a boss and a mentor. But to many students, his impact may not be obvious. Still, if you think food here matters, then you’ll agree that Chojnacki’s influence permeates student life. Even though he’d never ask for it, he deserves recognition.
The Pizzas They Carried Profile
B y sam forstner
MIRROR //3
THE D RUNS THE
NUMBERS 31
The number of toppings options for EBAs pizzas.
9 Elizabeth McNally/THE DARTMOUTH SENIOR STAFF
It’s midnight on a Tuesday — chicken sandwich night at Everything But Anchovies. Deep in the belly of the institution that almost single-handedly satiates every late-night craving on campus, tensions are running high. Employees bark commands — greeted with expletive-filled mumblings — as they scramble throughout the kitchen. A dish breaks. The culprit pauses only briefly to scream in frustration before exiting the swinging doors to wait patiently and pleasantly on the restaurant’s loyal patrons. Amidst the chaos and confusion of a crowded kitchen, a beacon of calm shines through, filling plastic cups of ranch and blue cheese with expert precision. He never appears to be in a rush. This is delivery driver Davey Holtorf. A 24-year-old from Ascutney, Vermont — a village with an estimated population of just over 500 people just 25 miles or so from this campus — Holtorf began working for EBAs four years ago. You can find him in the restaurant four days a week, unless he’s on a delivery. He clocks in at 5 p.m. each day, often not leaving until 4 a.m. the next morning. Despite the heavy workload and frequent long nights of driving pizzas across campus, he said it’s an interesting job that he enjoys. “If it’s busy on a Friday or Saturday night, you can walk out with a couple hundred bucks of cash in your pocket,” he said. “It’s a pretty good deal for just driving around and listening to music.” There are often four drivers on duty — sometimes five or six on the weekends — so Holtorf waits until it is his turn in the rotation to take an order. The schedule for drivers means Holtorf has to fill the time between deliveries, during which he completes his “side works,” filling the sauce cups and making the occasional salad, and he tries to carve out time to eat dinner. While Holtorf is often floating between various tasks throughout the night, he
said that he appreciates having a job that doesn’t require him to just sit in one place all day by himself. “I like when there’s a bunch of dogs, and you can bring dog biscuits to the door,” he said. Holtorf takes care to maximize his time throughout the day, always getting gas before work and “never dilly-dallying.” It’s an economic rationale more than anything else — more deliveries means more money in hand at the end of the night. Of course, cash doesn’t always change hands as smoothly as expected, and Holtorf says that customers will sometimes refuse to pay the bill. Some who place orders are even more difficult, and Haldorf said there have even been occasions when they outright refused to come to the door to get their food. Not to mention the fact that as the night wears on, it is no secret that more and more of his interactions will be with less-than-sober individuals. “I’ve seen people wildly belligerent, throwing punches while other guys try to control them,” Holtorf said. “Meanwhile I’m just trying to do my credit card slips.” In addition to gaining insider access to the kitchen, I had the pleasure of going on several “ride-alongs” with Holtorf as he delivered food around campus. As soon as it was his turn to go out, we walked out back and got into his car, parked right under a black metal fire escape where employees seemed to congregate during breaks. We made it to Cutter-Shabazz Hall in what seemed to me to be record time — he never speeds, but Holtorf also never wastes a movement or squanders a second on the course of his work. After making several calls before finally reaching the student who had ordered, we moved down Webster Avenue to Bones Gate fraternity, where the delivery took two minutes at most. Holtorf knows his craft — he took shortcuts I never knew existed — and he seemed to already have the cus-
tomer’s number dialed by the time the wheels on his Subaru Forester rolled to a stop. The whole trip was done in 10, 15 minutes at most, then he was back in the kitchen, ready to work. You might think the job would be full of outlandish encounters, but Holtorf says he hasn’t encountered anything he considers “too wild.” His coworkers were quick to recall their war stories. They’ve been hit on and received flirtatious text messages. Some said they’d been attacked by aggressive fraternity dogs. One of his fellow drivers recounted an incident where a student in a senior society answered the door wearing a Gumby mask over his head. An older worker who’s been retired from driving for years knew the names of all the fraternity dogs. He said he always knew which ones to pet and which to avoid. EBAs manager Edward Bogosian discussed the restaurant’s reliance on late-night orders from College students. “At this point in time, one is nothing without the other,” Bogosian said. Not everyone is cut out for driving, Bogosian noted. “It’s fruitful, but it’s hard work. You’re always going, it’s not an easy job,” he said. “Some people think they can do it and within two hours they’ve lost their minds and quit.”
The job is not without its dangers, either. In October 2003, drivers from C&As Pizza, Domino’s Pizza and EBAs were all robbed at gunpoint, either on campus or in Lebanon. Holtorf, fortunately, has never run into any sort of trouble. His favorite pizza is pepperoni and bacon, but for special occasions he goes for buffalo chicken. The chicken sandwich is “a classic,” he said, and he likes the soup from time to time. “If it’s chicken noodle I’m all about it, but none of that broccoli cheddar or tomato nonsense,” he said. “I don’t need none of that.” He plans to continue at EBAs for the foreseeable future — he’s hoping to save enough money to move out of his dad’s house and buy his own place in the area. He’s actively looking for places closer to Hanover, but he expressed frustration with the “ridiculous prices,” and said he may just decide to build his own small home. Holtorf works 11-hour days, delivering pizza to college students and filling thousands of plastic cups with salad dressing, all with a smile on his face. He doesn’t need much to keep that smile on his face. “I like talking to people — they’re real nice most of the time,” he said. “Everyone’s just really cool.”
The number of meal plans DDS offers. Did you know that DDS says that the Convenience 45 plan “does not offer any value”?
33
The number of DDS management staff listed on DDS’s website.
80,000 The approximate number of Dasani water bottles bought from campus vending machines annually.
8 Tiffany Zhai/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
As an EBAs driver, Davey Holtorf regularly delivers pizza to not-so-sober students.
The number of types of momos — Nepali dumplings — that Base Camp Cafe offers. Options include wild boar and goat.
MIRROR //5
4// MIRROR
Lasagna At The Anti-Hospital At David’s House, families with children at DHMC enjoy a refuge SPOTLIGHT
B y Maggie Baird
Walking into David’s House for my second visit, it’s difficult to believe I haven’t been here a thousand times. The feeling of home is immediate, almost overwhelming. Three women bustle around the kitchen, making a lasagna that smells like my mother’s, and a three-year-old is paddling around, getting ready to dye Easter eggs. The women are volunteers from Hanover’s U.S. Army Cold Regions Research and Engineering Laboratory who have come to prepare a home-cooked meal for the residents. They are part of a veritable collection of organizations and people that help make this place possible. David’s House was founded in 1984 after its namesake, a boy named David Cyr who was treated at the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center for leukemia. David was a foster child who was adopted by Dick Cyr. After a series of remissions and a three-and-a-half year battle with the disease, David Cyr died at the age of five. During his frequent visits to the hospital, David’s father, Dick Cyr, met many parents with children staying at the hospital who slept in hospital room chairs because they couldn’t afford long stays at hotels or chose not to leave their children. Cyr saw the need for a house for parents near the hospital, and began fundraising for the project a week later. Once you know where you’re going, David’s House is impossible to miss. It’s a massive, bright yellow home in the middle of the winding roads that surround the modern hospital. It’s a building built to provide a reprieve from the hospital and for parents to enjoy. Think of a Ronald McDonald’s House for families at DHMC: David’s House is for anyone who has children receiving treatment at the hospital and needs a place to stay, rest or grab a meal. With its new nursery, David’s House can now cater to families with infants. Danielle Bernadini is the mother of the young girl who was occupied with food coloring when I met her. Bernadini delivered another daughter at 30 weeks, and she plans on staying at David’s House with her 3-yearold for 10 weeks. “If [David’s House] was not here, I would not be able to be this close to my child,” she said. Like those parents that Dick Cyr saw when visiting his son in the hospital more than 20 years ago, Bernadini is unable to afford the expensive hotels in the area and lives more than two hours away from DHMC. The house has helped nearly 13,000 families since its inception, Georgie Sawyer, the volunteer services manager at the house, said. These figures don’t include day guests, who might come for a shower, a meal, a nap or a “change of pace,” she noted. There are many communal spaces in the house, including playgrounds and living rooms for families to use. Siblings of the children in treatment, who often need a place to play and escape the hospital during long stays, might make particular use of these group areas. The house doesn’t take reservations and doesn’t require a fee for its residents, although there is a $20 suggested donation. Parents can submit room requests in advance, but nothing is reserved or confirmed until their arrival. “Once people are in a room, it’s theirs until
they don’t need it anymore,” Sawyer said. As a result, families — especially new moms who might remain at the hospital for several weeks — have a safe place to return to. The house doesn’t receive any funding from the government, so it relies on a donor base, as well as gifts from previous guests. Meals at the house are not a fancy affair, but they are one of most important services at David’s House. “Cook and baker” volunteers come in frequently to cook meals for the residents, and these individuals range from solitary good samaritans to entire sports teams. It’s important for the house to be a private place that residents can treat like home, so just providing meals is an excellent way to help the residents while also maintaining a distance. The house also boasts a full pantry filled
Ali Dalton/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF Ali Dalton/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
to the brim with options for families to prepare their own snacks or meals. Each of the rooms also has a box in the fridge and in the cupboards where the families can store anything they need and feel like they’re in their own space. The volunteers cook off of a menu developed by Healthy Eating Active Living, a DHMC program that created “easy choices” for volunteers to cook and for residents to eat on the go or reheat. David’s House tries to provide healthy meals as often as possible. Residents might not always be thinking about nutrition when grabbing something before heading back to the hospital. The College’s women’s tennis team frequently volunteers at David’s House and have also held several fundraisers. Back on campus, Bob Dallis, the women’s tennis head coach, told me that parents are “always anxious... to get a decent meal” — by cooking, volunteers can truly help residents.
The team’s chicken stirfry has become something of a favorite. They branched out last term, however, and made turkey meatloaf from the HEAL recipe book. As Marie Darling, one of the Research and Engineering Laboratory lasagna cooks, said, “When you’re cooking for people you don’t know, you want something that’s a little more mild in flavor.” Sawyer tries to stagger volunteers when they come in to cook so that the residents will always have something to eat, whether a fresh meal or healthy leftovers. Many school groups will prepare meals together at home and bring them to the house, frozen and ready to be used whenever necessary. It’s a massive kitchen — there’s ample space for volunteers and families can cook at the same time so residents can have as many options as possible. The kitchen is open, with two main counters — one is a central island and the other is tucked into a U-shape on the wall — so that volunteers can cook without disturbing residents who may want to cook for themselves or be alone. Everyone I interviewed described the benefits of having a place that feels like home for families who live far away and who have long stays at the hospital. Julienne Keong ’16, a member of the tennis team, said that she noticed the house “caters to the kids a lot.” She has a point. Each residential room has a theme, from bunnies to pirates. The rooms are all decorated and filled with toys related to the theme, and the common areas are also stuffed with toys. The opening foyer is filled with knit hats and stuffed animals that children are free to take. And there are flags for every country from which people who have stayed at David’s House have hailed. The collection is quite impressive. It’s not a perfect space — Bernadini wishes that there were more structured activities for her three-year-old, and she said that it’s difficult to engage smaller siblings for extended stays. She said the house is great for older kids, though, and that she appreciates the benefits of being able to stay in the house. A recent addition to the house, which raised the total number of rooms to 20, has allowed many more families to stay. Sometimes they reach capacity, but the house has a strong relationship with the Upper Valley hostel in Hanover. Making use of the hostel is very rare, however, and Sawyer said that the house has reached a happy balance with the current capacity. Hospitality volunteers like Emilie Hall, who volunteers from 4-6 p.m. on Wednesdays, help out at the house to welcome families and organize day-to-day logistics. Hall was struck by how much David’s House “does feel like a family.” “It’s nice to know that our community can come together like this,” Hall said. David’s House is the anti-hospital. A place full of happiness, good food and children, the house is a refuge for people going through difficult times in their lives. The importance of a meal is empowering at David’s House. The volunteers feel inspired by the house while the residents have one less thing to worry about. Even a simple vegetable lasagna or chicken stirfry can remove hours of stress from parents’ lives. Marie Darling said of her lasagna, “it’s going to be a remarkable meal.” Remarkable, indeed.
6// MIRROR
International, Quaint, Old-Fashioned The Mirror takes a look at our small town’s eateries — both the go-tos and newer fare. SPOTLIGHT
B y James Jia
Tiffany Zhai/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Tiffany Zhai/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Canoe Club’s cheeseburger is a crowdpleaser, but if you’re feeling fancy, try the mango-glazed salmon.
At Base Camp Cafe, you can sample some food you might not find at Foco, including wild boar ribs.
EBAs Located on 5 Allen Street, Everything But Anchovies has been operating since 1979. Contrary to its name, this pizzeria does serve anchovies, along with 30 other toppings. Currently, it is operated by the Dowd siblings, including Charlie Dowd, after whom a pizza special is named. The restaurant didn’t always have its signature quirky name — it used to be called Maureen’s Cafe until they held a town contest to rechristen the establishment. Other than its signature pizzas, EBAs also offers wings, pasta and sandwiches, among a variety of other options. Because it’s open later than any other restaurant in Hanover, it’s become the go-to source for drunk munchies and the final option for necessary sustenance on long all-nighters. Some of the best orders include the barbecue chicken pizza, Tuscany bread, garlic parmesan wings, bacon fries and buffalo chicken sandwich. Best dish: Meat lover’s pizza
Lebanon Street, you might stumble upon Jewel of India, housed in a white building that looks more like a cottage than a restaurant. The place nevertheless offers students a wide variety of tasty Indian fare ranging from lamb curry to its signature mango lassi drink. When they’re not making use of Thai Orchid and The Orient, student organizations frequently call upon Jewel for its party platters. It’s very popular for its unlimited Sunday lunch buffet for only $10 — the perfect recovery for shedding a lingering hangover. Some of the must-try items on the menu are the naan with curry sauce, chicken vindaloo (boneless chicken and potatoes in a curry sauce) and the lamb biryani (basmati rice with lamb, dried fruits and nuts). Best dish: Tandoori chicken
Canoe Club You’ll find Canoe Club, which opened in 2003, on 27 Main Street. It replaced another restaurant called Mojo’s Bistro when it arrived in downtown Hanover, and it now offers bistro food in a pub-like atmosphere
with live music. Its name actually has no ties with the Ledyard Canoe Club. Rather, it is named after a restaurant in Connecticut where John Chaplin, its owner, celebrated his 50th birthday. Not only does this restaurant attract professional musicians, but undergraduate student performance groups, graduate students and faculty have all been known to perform at Canoe Club. And while much of the town seems to wind down early into the night, Canoe Club it is open until 11:30 p.m. — with drinks still available for more than an hour later — offering upscale meals for some of Hanover’s night owls. Some appetizers you shouldn’t miss include the short rib nachos or hot lollies (grilled shrimp with Asian noodle salad). It might be a little gauche to recommend a burger, but the Canoe Club cheeseburger makes an affordable choice and a nice change from the special at the Courtyard Café. If you’re feeling fancy, though, the mango-glazed salmon makes for tasty fare. To top it all off, finish with a scrumptious tiramisu or the blue moon sorbet. Best dish: Grilled bistro steak Jewel of India If you’re taking a stroll near the back of
Tiffany Zhai/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
Jewel of India’s $10 Sunday buffet — all you can eat — is not to be missed.
Base Camp Cafe One of the newest editions to the town’s culinary repertoire, Base Camp Cafe — yes, that’s a reference to Mount Everest — just opened its doors in August. The Nepali restaurant makes a splash with its commitment to organic products, including various dumplings and jackfruit curry. For more adventurous diners, Base Camp Cafe also offers relatively exotic options for Hanover,
such as wild boar ribs, goat tarkari and buffalo dumplings. The owner, Bhola Pandey, is a Nepali restaurateur with a degree in research nutrition who aims to create healthy dishes. Salubre Trattoria, an Italian restaurant, previously operated in the venue in which Base Camp now resides. Best dish: Lamb and mushroom tarkari with basmati rice Thai Orchid It’s hard to believe that Thai Orchid is already rounding out its second year. In 2013, Thai Orchid replaced another Thai restaurant called Mai Thai. Originally, Mai Thai was owned by Robert Lamprey, who closed the restaurant and reopened it under the new name of Thai Orchid, handing over the management to his wife, Chansuda Lamprey. It now offers various Thai dishes — including fried rice and pan fried noodles — and is a staple in most students’ takeout or dine-in options in town. The Kaeng Pet Pad Yang (duck curry), Kao Pad Sopparot (pineapple fried rice) and Pad Thai are must tries for any student. Although the service can occasionally be, let’s say, confused, the food is well worth it. Best dish: Drunken noodles
Tiffany Zhai/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
In just two years, Thai Orchid has become a go-to for both library studiers and students on dates.
FRIDAYS WITH MARIAN
MIRROR //7
Boots and RallIES COLUMN
By Aaron Pellowski
COLUMN By Marian Lurio
I had a thrilling spring break. (Tons of hard alcohol involved!! Just kidding...) Two activities really stand out as the highlights of my break, though: watching HBO’s “The Jinx” (2015) (the first time...) and “Going Clear” (2015), the network’s documentary on Scientology. If you haven’t seen “The Jinx,” it’s time to hit up your parents’ HBO Go account. Is that presumptuous of me to assume that everyone a) has parents and b) that they have an HBO subscription? I apologize if I have offended any of you, but this is something about which I feel strongly. Robert Durst, who sometimes pretended to be a mute woman named Dorothy Ciner, is clearly guilty of multiple murders — and yet I believe his lies about being innocent. Even after that hot mic incident (“Killed them all, of course”), it’s hard to turn my back on this killer and his wig collection. Ultimately, though, he’s not the beau to whom I will send jail mail. Though wigless he remains, Adnan Syed retains the keys to my heart. One more incentive to watch — director and co-producer Andrew Jarecki (who, interestingly enough, is the son of a billionaire) has a curious goatee-beard situation going on. Much like Jarecki’s pursuit of the truth — he spent quite a while on the docuseries — that facial hair just won’t quit. “Going Clear” is a titillating expose about the Church of Scientology. If you think the inner-workings of the Church of Scientology are John Travolta’s biggest “secret,” you’re clearly a newcomer to this column. Then again, the religious organization’s (alleged) use of blackmailing (the Church “audits” the most intimate details of practitioners) to retain followers is well-documented. L. Ron Hubbard’s rotting bottom teeth make the documentary sickening enough — the filmmakers could have left out the accusations of human rights violations within the organization and I’d still be freaked out. Moving on to secular matters, perhaps more frightening than the future of this nation or the thought of being a Scientologist is the prospect of receiving a call from Michael Jackson (RIP). According to Russell Crowe, he was a victim of MJ’s prank calls. I truly cannot imagine anything more troubling than
a late-night phone call from Michael Jackson. But I don’t claim to be fair. The thought of it happening to someone else — and especially Russell Crowe, a man who clearly needs anger management (another well-documented phenomenon) — makes me chuckle. Texas Senator Ted Cruz has thrown his hat into the ring. Cruz has announced that he will be running for president in 2016. On March 22, he sent out the following message, accompanied by a cheesy and generally weird video, to the Twittersphere: “@tedcruz: I’m running for President, and I hope to earn your support!” Until the recent buzz about a possible presidential run, when discussing Ted Cruz, I have stated that he cannot run for the office. Indeed, Cruz was born in Canada. I didn’t realize that his mother was — much to my chagrin — a U.S. citizen. I wondered how it’s possible for anybody from the wonderful country of Canada could have such, let’s say “interesting,” views. Ted Cruz being recognized as an American — and ultimately renouncing his Canadian citizenship — has restored my faith in good old Canada. It’s somehow fitting that the person who read “Green Eggs and Ham” aloud in the Senate while filibustering Obamacare has renounced Canada. They must be doing something right. It’s not looking much better on the other side of the aisle. A word to Hillary Clinton: How do you expect to run a country if you can’t handle two separate smartphones? Pretty sure that’s a standard practice in many occupations. Can somebody please explain to me how anyone thought using a personal email account as SECRETARY OF STATE was an acceptable practice?! Hillz (I must admit I’m reluctant to use this nickname because I feel it’s a sexist practice!) is almost as secretive and sketchy as the Scientologist crew. Just like the Church, she will be (and is being) exposed! Then again, Cruz has the worst attendance rate (committee hearings) of any member of the Senate Armed Services Committee. Doesn’t America deserve the warm embrace of a leader we can trust will keep us safe? Do either of these leaders have what it takes to work side-by-side with Dennis Rodman to promote foreign relations? Only time will tell.
A certain author who’s been the focus of a good deal of my attention over the past few years has a habit of writing that he can feel his friends’ presence by his side when reading the letters they send him. This resonates with me since this practice of writing long, circumambulatory letters is not unfamiliar to me. I think my choice to write long emails to my friends while they were in Greece and Paris and South Africa gave rise to some of the best elements of my “Dartmouth Experience.” There was also a time when I wrote long letters back and forth with others that were of a somewhat different character — less biographical exposition, more violent swinging from intensive philosophical considerations into outrageous declarations of love or persnickety argumentation over contrived, exotic forms of irony and lots of title-dropping. I deleted them all as part of an ill-conceived damnatio memoriae omniae campaign. I regret that. If I believe in a soul at all, then all my writing constitutes my very soul. I love whenever I find any of it that I happened to save or something that survived. My memory of what it was like to be me in 2004 or 2009 or even 2012 is in thistly tatters. I have so little I could not even rub it between my fingers. The rest has fallen into the bottomless crater of death. You’d have to call it death. Forgotten memories are as distant to living selves as an entire life to the dead. Only in writing is my soul preserved above the rim of that crater. I wish I could at least revisit, at a surface level, that time in my life. Now I only have memories of memories, a few photocopies. As much as it has been necessary to my healing for forget everything about this or that, I regret that it means letting go of myself. Likewise I think my letters to and from my friends are infinitely precious. One of these friendships wound up among the most significant things to occur to me. I do not think that regularly sitting down and trying my best to recall what it was like to have her around, reading new letters or re-reading old ones is somehow to simulate friendship. It is still real and worthwhile and beautiful to me, even if I never see her again in my life. So long as the words stay together, the emotions they enclosed are invulnerable to disintegration and the teeth of time in the way that flesh is not. There is a living being that grows, breaths and pulses with each keystroke. That being is the animus and the genius of our friendship. In a thousand years, someone could re-read our letters and it will be like rousing a genie out of the lamp in which it
has slumbered — dormant but never dead. I am so giddy and passionate about this, and I think it’s possible the most important thing in human existence. Love is the thing that with the aid of writing and reading frees us from existence in the ordinary way. We help each other up out of the painful humdrum and into transcendence. Keats wrote (not insignificantly, in a letter) “Love is my Religion — I could die for that — I could die for you. My Creed is Love, and you are its only tenet.” I am centimeters away from having that tattooed on my arm, except that tattoos are texts written on a surface that is bound to vanish. When I write, I create a text that might very well never, ever disappear, thanks to the nature of the digital age. I am talking about the actual possibility of something close to true immortality here. Spoken words fizzle into an echo. Children die, and their children die. Manuscripts are rubbed down with soapstone and written over. But there exist little pieces of the soul of Aeschylus nestled within still-beating hearts under the rock of Herculaneum, with brothers and sisters up in the surface of the world in young hands. The coals of burnt timber set ablaze by the fires of Vesuvius faded and went colorless centuries ago. The embers of Aeschylus still hold their heat in the hearts of readers today, and readers yet to come. This is why it’s worth being open and honest and authentic when I write letters — actually it’s why I must be these things. Otherwise the world will preserve a record of a thing that was untrue, a person I was not, a pseudo-J Diedre Horowitz addressing a pseudo-thou. I’m not in the business of erecting shams of myself. I want to give my true self in writing so that I can know that there is a true self of mine to give. It’s also why it’s worth taking the time to make sure these letters aren’t tripe. Honesty requires good writing. As Dr. Selma Helmholtz, my aesthetics and analytics instructor at DAIUS use to incant repeatedly: “Only boring people could write poorly of themselves without deception.” Indeed many times I’ve given copies of letters I’ve written to other people, knowing that by reading that kind of writing, they can get to know me faster than just hanging around me, taking turns breathing the same dank air. In writing, souls know each other. My writing is my Trojan horse. I am waiting inside to ambush you with weapons of essence.
8// MIRROR
Kathleen Rao/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF
SPOTLIGHT
B y Matthew Garvey
“Can I take your order?” “Yes, I’ll have brick-oven nachos as an appetizer and the northern fried chicken with a side of coleslaw.” “You got it, coming right up.” Thirty minutes later, Molly’s Restaurant had done it again. I completely devoured the crispy oven-baked nachos and tender fried chicken, leaving no room for dessert or dissatisfaction. Every time I make it into town and find myself at Molly’s, I try a new item on the menu. The building is spacious, but it always seems brimming with customers, friendly wait staff and walls filled with Ivy League memorabilia, local sports photos and artifacts. Molly’s has become a favorite for many students and families looking for a great meal away from campus. In 1982, Marc and Patty Milowsky, the owners of Jesse’s Steaks, Seafood and Tavern, received a zoning permit to open a new restaurant in a central location in Hanover. After just six months of construction, the Milowskys took over the Town and Country Dress Shop downtown and converted it into a 150-seat restaurant and bar named Molly’s Balloon. Marc Milowsky recalls that the town was the perfect place to own a few restaurants. More than just a promising environment for a small business, though, it also proved to be a place where the Milowskys could envision their lives together. The couple, he said, fell in love with the town in the 1970s. “My wife and I actually met while we were both working in a restaurant in Vermont, which was a lot like Jesse’s,” he said. “We
got married and decided we wanted to open up our own place. Her mom lived in Windsor at that time teaching school, and so we came down and looked in Hanover and thought the area was perfect for business.” The Milowskys opened The Prince in the Pauper, their first restaurant, in 1973. They followed with Jesse’s just three years later, and in 1983, they founded the restaurant in downtown Hanover that has become a College staple. The couple had a vision from day one — create a restaurant and eating experience that appeals to all people. Hanover town manager Julia Griffin said Molly’s is a quintessential part of the town, noting that the restaurant benefits from its advantageous location. “Molly’s is literally at our crossroads of downtown,” Griffin said. “Whether you’re coming in a noontime or during the evening, the place is hopping.” Liz Lin ’16 echoed Griffin’s thinking. “Because Hanover is so small and Main Street is full of family owned businesses, it has that idyllic college feel to it that most students enjoy,” she said. For Griffin, the restaurant, along with other eateries, serves as a draw for people throughout the region. “From a manager’s perspective, we love places like Lou’s and Molly’s that really attract a mix of populations, putting students with young and old families,” she said. It’s worth noting that Molly’s has other ties to the College. Approximately 10 to 20 percent of all employees are current students at the
College, both undergraduates and graduate students, Milowsky said. Milowsky said that when the restaurant first opened, the menu emphasized Mexican cuisine. Over the years, though, the menu has evolved to include an array of diverse cultural dishes to reflect customers’ preferences, including thin-crust pizzas, entrees cooked in a wood-fired brick oven, pasta dishes, the “best burgers in the Upper Valley” and myriad appetizers and desserts. “[Milowsky] and his chef are pretty savvy in terms of reading the changing food taste markets,” Griffin said. “So over the years they’ve really incorporated a lot of vegetarian and vegan options in the last five to 10 years. I think [Milowsky] has moved away from a more traditional American food to a wider variety of Asian dishes and specials that are unique. So there’s really something for everybody there. It’s quite eclectic, and I think that’s what people like about it.” Restaurants like Molly’s that have become institutions — fixtures of College life — must balance a healthy regard for the past with the imperatives of serving a modern clientele. Molly’s and Lou’s in particular are awash with nostalgia. At Molly’s, both the old sports memorabilia on the walls and the record covers on the menus indicate that this restaurant looks backward for inspiration. Yet Milowsky said, “Molly’s is a place that believes fullheartedly in keeping up with trends.” The restaurant went through a several major renovations and interior changes in the last 10 or 15 years to keep the business successful, he said. It eliminated a deli sec-
tion and bank in the back of the restaurant to allow for more seating. In 1998, the Milowskys added 25 additional seats inside and a 50-seat outdoor patio, he said. Neither of these changes, however, would portend anything close to the seismic shift at Molly’s that would disrupt Hanover eating for decades to come. I’m describing, of course, the inexpensive margaritas the restaurant serves. Milowsky recalled that right after the restaurant expanded in size from the renovations, it introduced margaritas for only $2.50 that were a big hit among students and have now become somewhat of a traditional drink for upperclassmen. Still, it is a tender time for margarita lovers on campus. Students of all creeds mourn the passing of the $2.50 margarita — it retired last year. Our wallets won’t take too much of a walloping. They remain $3. Mark Milowsky gave me some Molly’s memorabilia to peruse, illustrative documents that date back through the restaurant’s history. Rather than featuring on old album cover, a menu is adorned with images of a zeppelin. Even then, the restaurant linked itself closely with the College, for the balloon flies over an illustration of Baker-Berry Library. The sense of nostalgia was still present — the menu’s illustrations have an old-timey, 1940s feel — but it’s less explicit, somehow. “I would definitely say that Molly’s is more than just a restaurant on campus,” Chris Quintero ’18 said. “It’s a great business for the town of Hanover.”
Kathleen Rao/THE DARTMOUTH STAFF