Cafe Miranda
Today, Cafe Miranda closed its doors after 29 years in business. Matt and I trekked up to Rockland to pay it a final visit, reminiscing on our drive about the many joyful meals we’ve had there.
I find it helpful to remember that just as food exists in a moment, so to do restaurants. The work of feeding folks is eternal, but the agents of the work are not. Fruit of the vine, and work of human hands: behind restaurant is a team (of cooks & servers, farmers and other provisioners) sharing time & space on earth for only so long.
This idea grounds a lot of my thinking about food & hospitality. When I visit a restaurant, rather than looking to find a favorite dish, or an innovative one, I’ve learned to hope for dishes that tell me something about the people who are preparing them— not just about what the market demands at a given time. I want to know who is feeding me, and, if I’m lucky, why.
I never met Chef Kerry Altiero, but I watched him as he tended to the remarkable wood oven in the center of the schoolhouse-turned-restaurant that was home to his vision of hospitality. The menu at Cafe Miranda (and the remarkable cookbook which spun out of it) seems to be an eyehole into the mind of an eclectic, fast-firing, sure-footed chef.
Cafe Miranda was everything. Locally rooted but globally informed. Extravagant but unpretentious. Affordable enough for two recent grads to leave full and slightly tipsy. Food made beautiful by its colorful abundance and scorched edges.
Long live Cafe Miranda, my favorite restaurant. Full stop.
