Snow on the Pumpkins

The only message I got on my cell phone while on vacation in Istanbul was from my friend Ray. Because of the expense, my phone message said, “Please don't call me while I am away in Europe."

Ray asks, “Can we meet them for dinner around October 30th? It is Maggie’s sixty-fifth birthday.”

What an honor to be invited. It is just the four of us. The Risleys married the same year as us, 1967. Shaun was born two days later.

I am two weeks older than Ray. He calls me sometimes for advice. So many of my closer friends were born in Abril. We have been friends for forty-six years. You can't make this STUFF up. We met while serving together in the Navy.

“Which restaurant?” Ray’s message said only, "Mexican." They live three hours away. It has to be El Sarape or Casa Romero.





Eventually we find out that a Casa Romero business card on a Bob's Mail prompted this wonderful idea of Ray’s.



We leave Marshfield with an hour to travel. The dashboard says that it is 41 degrees. The weather report calls for " Unusual New England Winter Snowstorm." No one would have had to tell the local Wampanoag Indians that, just because of two facts. The oak trees shed no acorns this year, and secondly we are unusually buried heavily in pine needles.

It is black out and raining hard. Six o'clock dinner reservations. Hey! We have been friends forever and at least it isn't four thirty for the Early Bird Special in the great state of Florida.

South East Expressway. 39 degrees. Off at Mass Ave. That’s Massachusetts Avenue to you out-of-towners. Right onto Boylston. Back Bay. Park near the Hynes. 37 degrees.

Walk to Hereford Street where the Boston Marathon takes a hard right off Commonwealth Avenue very close to the finish line. 2012 will be the 116th running. Wow! My last one was the 100th.

The wind always seems stronger and colder in a city doesn't it? How many times have we done this over the years? For many years it was Charlie’s Eating and Drinking Saloon after shows. Do you remember? The waiters in black, with those large, long, old-fashioned white aprons. Male waiters. No female waitresses. Exactly the way it still is in Prague or Athens or especially Istanbul. A far cry from the Charlie’s of today. "Can I help YOU GUYS?"



Look down the one way street for the small red lit-up sign with the words in gold, “Casa Romero.” Interestingly, many Pittsfield brides-to-be hold their bridal showers here. Here being 150 miles east of the Berkshires. "The Berkshires seemed dreamlike on account of that frosting, with 10 miles behind me and . . . “ Oops, sorry. Couldn't control the James Taylor moment.

My ungloved umbrella hand is freezing. This horrid weather came about because Tomas Donovan bought a snow blower a month ago. Three messages on Facebook tell about the approaching storm. Leslie in New Hampshire says it’s really coming down. Stephanie Egan says the snow in Pennsylvania was pretty until the branches, many still with leaves, started breaking (her photos on Facebook show a lot of snow and downed trees). Kathy Stroll said New York was getting hammered (her Facebook photos look even worse). Thank you so much, Tomas.



Sandy and I have been patrons for more than twenty-four years at Senor Leo Romero's house. As usual it was Sandy's idea to try out this Mexican place in Boston. An advertisement in Boston Magazine prompted it. I must admit she has good ideas. She asked me repeatedly to marry her, even on the very first night we met. Did I ever tell you that story?

It was here in 1987 that we first heard about a special little Mexican Island from our Mexican waitress. I asked, "Where do Mexican people go on vacation?" This Febrero will be our 24th trip south of the border.

I had my 50th birthday here at the restaurant. Just my male friends. I don't know why. I just did. OK? Get over it, Jeannette and Donna. I have the photo in my office. We were so young and looked so good back then.



Mr. Romero greets us. This is the oldest continuously-operated restaurant in the Back Bay. Thirty seven years so far. He looks dapper and very well indeed. Uncle George would say. "He has fine carriage."



At first he says that he was originally from Merida, but later says Mexico City. If you ever find yourself in Merida, riding the local bus past a Catholic church, be prepared to do the "Sign of the Cross," as every Catholic person does there when they pass a church. I guess it is the same in Italy.

His food he calls Mexico City style. Please order something other than a burrito or taco when you finally come here for comida, por favor. It would be an especially fine idea if you invite me along.

He says that he first visited Isla Mujeres when he was just ten years old.

It is beautiful and warm here and the Casa is just starting to get busy. Maggie and Ray are waiting at a nice cozy table in a corner.


Ray and Maggie posed for this photo years ago.

The conversation picks up right where we left off the last time we got together. Maggie gets a phone call from her son. It has snowed one foot so far in Pittsfield, and it is still coming down hard.

In Worcester, it is snowing with many power outages. I try not to think about the ride home with the temperature dropping.

The margaritas are so good. We choose the one called "Perfect" and it is. Ray says to be careful of the verde sauce.

The Risley family is a throwback back to the old ways, the old days. What a great family life they lead! They have four (soon to be six) grandchildren compared to our one.

Ray has a gift for Maggie, a very pretty necklace. Hey? You do not stay married this long by accident.

Maggie puts the necklace on. Almost on cue, the lights dim and the tune Happy Birthday plays, as our waiter brings over a flan with a candle in it, with “Feliz Cumpleanos” written in chocolate on the plate. Everyone applauds.

The spirit moves me, and I get up and demonstrate the famous Mexican Hat Dance. Remember? Da da dada dada da dada. I bow at the end. Patrons shower me with pesos. The total surprisingly pays the bill and even the propina. Or maybe it was RayRay who paid. Everything got kind of blurry towards the end of the evening.

As we are leaving, eight people come in and bring the cold with them, as if they have little A/C units installed on their person. You know what I mean! Their bill will be probably four hundred dollars plus propina I would guess.

North on Boylston it says still 37 degrees. The blinking signs on the Southeast Expressway say, "Please stay off the highway so we can keep it clear." Even though there is no sign of snow yet. Unusual winter storm watch indeed.

Route 3 south towards the Cape, and the outside temperature warms to a balmy 41 degrees. I guess the worst will hit after midnight. We miss the snow and wind in Boston and Revere by two hours.

Our casa is warm. I have been burning oak and cherry wood all day and it is not even Noviembre yet. Thanks for listening. You did not interrupt me, not even once.

Your Friend,
RobertoTocino

T. S. Eliot said, "April is the cruelest month. Except for the chocolate bunnies."

Just so you know, Sandy and I will take a warm meal with old friends in any month.