Gayle's Italian Market



My cousin Gayle (and her husband) bought the McGilchrist Building in Salem and invested a couple of long years restoring the monster; just a little something to do in their retirement. It should be noted that they are not retirement bound after all because they've opened an Italian restaurant/grocery/catering business on the ground floor.

Lovely, lovely job.  I'm very proud of Gayle, (and Doug, but to forgo any appearance of political correctness and save typing so many extraneous pronouns, I am hereby assigning all credit to Gayle.  So sue me.)




Eschewing my hermit tendencies, with Baby Henry in Salem (unseen for a couple weeks), an invite to a wine tasting at a much loved cousin's new restaurant, and committed sherpa duty transporting Tyler's new couch and chair, I drove the 120 miles to Salem.  

And thoroughly enjoyed myself at the wine tasting.  It is an Italian market and has a wide selection of Italian products, of which I'm thoroughly enamored.  Dried pasta, tomato paste, pickled peppers, all manner of delights.  I wish my buddy Michael Agnese was here to stroll the aisles with me and toss out menu ideas.  His grandmother was from Calabrese and always started her gravy with diced carrot and a chunk of pepperoni. Molto bene.

I lost Ryan at the gelato bar.  That boy has a serious sweet tooth. This gelato comes from Bend, Oregon!  Here I was thinking Bend was only producing artisan beer.  And goat cheese, of course.  And gelato, apparently. 




Surprise, surprise:  Peter was at the tasting.  Peter!  My SJ compatriot from the early days, nearly 30 years ago.  "A tall drink of water" as described by Virginian Larry Stone, another compatriot from that era.  I pointed out Tyler - he'd known her as a five year old.  Yep, things change.  

I enjoyed a very crisp white wine (don't remember the label, I am a lousy oenophile) and some tasty nibbles.

I only tried two kinds because I got to talking...  Polenta squares frosted with basil pesto.  Wow.  I hadn't thought of that.  Excellent pairing.   And some sort of Italian pinwheel with pickled peppers tickling my taste buds.  Yum.   A server passed with by with a most beautiful plate of anti-pasta:  Artistically arranged slices of cheese and fruit and meats.  A photo would be good here - but, you know, I was talking... 

I visited with my cousin and got caught up on family doings.  Henry was getting restless and it was time to leave.  On the way home, we stopped for dessert at the Konditerei, Salem's most excellent cake house.  Two different kinds of chocolate cake, split three ways.  Poor, deprived Henry doesn't get any.  Works for me!


This morning, on the second floor, I awoke to a splattering of raindrops thrumming into the horse chestnut tree leaves.  Later, a mournful train whistle.  I snuggled in my cozy bed.





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