Sub Heaven

This past Friday night, I stopped at Santoro's Sub-Villa in Saugus MA for sandwiches. I usually get the Sub Villa Special with everything but hots (chopped onions, chopped pickle,chopped tomatoes, ham, cheese, capacolla and salami (I think) on a crusty rolls with 'saltpepperoil', of course). For Dawn, I forgo the onions and hots. These subs (italians in Maine, hogies in PA, etc) are the GREATEST sandwiches ever made, bar none. The bread is crunchy and chewy like good french bread, the onions are redolent and the pickles (my favorite part) are tart and sweet. Along with the rich capacolla it is just is unbelievable!

The picture above is of the old sign for Sub Villa and is gone now. This morning, I was in bed thinking about Santoro's and I realized that I have been eating sandwiches from that sub shop for probably over 40 years! When I was a kid, my grandfather ("Grampie Earle") had lung cancer and went to Boston to have one of his lungs removed. Every year thereafter, he went down to Boston for a checkup and often we all went along. My father had gone to dental school at Tufts and we had lived for some time in Rockland, so he knew the area well. I am not sure why or when we first began stopping on Route One in Saugus at Santoro's, but I can clearly remember this old sign and the 'Jetson's-like' shop. I seem to remember at one time that you could get a sandwich and add your own condiments and vegatables self-service. In any event, when I began to travel to Boston for work, I made a point of taking Route One out of the city so I could stop in Saugus at Santoro's to bring home sandwiches for the girls. When we used to travel to Boston with my grandfather and family, the second stop was Putnam's in Danver's for Ice Cream Smorgasbord. For years, I had no idea where Putnam's was, since I used to jump on Route 95 before Danvers on my way home. Only recently did I finally find Putnam's, nestled in between superhighways. I haven't had a chance to stop there yet, but I hope to soon.

I was researching Santoro's for this blog and I found out that apparently part of the family left the North Shore of Massachusetts and opened a shop in Burbank California. You can read more about it at this link . The sandwich he shows certainly looks like a Santoro's sub. I have to agree with the blog post that if I was stranded on a desert island and had to chose one restaurant, it would be Santoro's. The Burbank shop is located at 1423 W Burbank Blvd, Burbank, CA, so maybe when I am out to visit my sister, we can make a pilgrimage and I can compare with the original.


THE ARMFUL by Robert Frost

So, this poem is especially for Alice, though I doubt she reads my blog. We had dinner in Cambridge recently, and I know she has a lot on her plate right now. When I was her age, I hoped too to have a specific plan and direction for my life. I didn't and so have pretty much drifted from experience to experience. I don't think that is such a bad thing. It is how I came to be here anyway. I think Alyssa will do fine. She is bright and passionate; inquisitive and loyal. Whatever she decides to do, she will glean wisdom from it, I have no doubt. And isn't that the real purpose of life, to accumulate wisdom? Anyway, as I often tell my clients, "nothing is set in stone". Life is a moving river, not a mountain.

I used to carry this poem around in my wallet and read it from time to time. To me, Frost is talking about that same juggling of hopes and expectations, his own and others for him. Sometimes it is necessary to drop everything and start over - reboot the system.

For every parcel I stoop down to seize,
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,
Extremes too hard to comprehend at once,
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with, hand and mind
and heart, if need be, I will do my best
To keep their building balanced on my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.  

                                                                                (1928)