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Wallyburgers

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It started, as myths often do, in the dim, misty long ago times. Summer was ending, the days still hot but the nights were cooling, and school was beckoning. There was a fire, a charcoal grill fire. This was long after we had invented BBQ Cheetos, and we stood around the fire and talked of how good, how very good, how very much better than ordinary were burgers and dogs on a charcoal grill, and how we would miss that goodness through the winter, and why couldn’t there be charcoal grilling all year round, why must fire end with summer??????

Why couldn’t we make a place where we could have a charcoal fire all year long, where the burgers and dogs always taste like fire and we would call that place:

WALLYBURGER

And it was good.

And the story did not leave us with summer, but grew and changed and morphed over time.

When the youngest brother was still very young, we began to see him as the emblem of the Wallyburger,

the Wallyburger chef.

The story grew strong.

He would wear all white, like a superhero. A white cap and a white apron; white T shirt and white carpenter pants…..and as the story grew, the apron grew greasy. What was once shiny white became a little…less so.

Like Mel on Alice. Only more so.

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A little more grease, a little more scruff…

And Wallyburger Chef would have a 3 day growth of beard, even though he was really 3 years old, and the whole hipster scruffy face thing was decades in the future.

And

He would have a cigarette hanging out one side of his mouth, with a long ash that was just about to fall……

But because the burgers and dogs were

SOOOOOO GOOOOOOD

The people would come  anyway, and pay any price. That good.

 

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Time marching on

and years later, in front of the TV in the Ancestral Home, Dad gave the command.

 Invade.

That’s what Dad said as he was watched Phantom Gourmet.

phantom gourmet log

“The Walls should invade Wahlburgers

A little back story seems in order……

Dad – raised in Dorchester.

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The Neponset River as it runs through Lower Mills – this is where Nana is from

Wahlbergs – from Dorchester.

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Mark Wahlberg in Dorchester with reporter Lara Logan

Dad was a cop.

Donnie Wahlberg plays a cop in Blue Bloods

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Will Estes and Donnie Wahlberg in Blue Bloods

 

And so the plans for invasion began….the problem was that as Wahlburgers was being built ( we couldn’t invade until they were actually there) the various reports had the location sometimes in Hingham – the actual location – and sometimes in Boston, easier to get to, but out of town speak for a place in Massachusetts that isn’t Cape Cod or the Berkshires…..

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But Dad got sick right around the time that Wahlburgers opened in 2011, so he never got there.

This Spring, my Number One Son and his girlfriend and I all went to Hingham.

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Jake knew the way because in a past job, he delivered the buns.Because Dorchester is all about the connections, even in generations removed.

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The menu

I got the Thanksgiving Burger – natch.

 

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For desert I got the Apple Empanada. We forgot to take picture until dessert time.Too busy eating.

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SOOOO 

it wasn’t quite an invasion.

It was a good meal with a leisurely drive to and fro.

And we discussed if Dad would have gotten an O.F.D. (Originally From Dorchester)  or a Triple Decker…(more properly called a ‘Tree Decka’ from what I remember in Dorchester-ese). And since my son didn’t know the

Wallyburger

story….well. I guess that’s what this is for. Our family. Our story. Their burgers.

While the family is gathered round to remember and connect (and eat – eating is wonderful for the memory!)  we will not doubt be remembering  the Wallyburger chef. And Dad. XoX

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Filed under Autumn, Bread, Eating, Thanksgiving, TV shows

“April is the cruellest month”

Thank you, TS Eliot for summing up the weather situation in New England – too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry.

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He wrote really great poetry, not just random lines that sound like rants.

Eliot is pretty famous for this book:

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a book made more famous by the musical..

CATS music

It was too windy or too rainy or too cold to plant garden seeds – but the weeds are doing just fine.

But enough about the weather..

I’ve been to book launches –

James W. Baker, formerly of Plimoth Plantation  was up to his eyeballs in a new edition of a 17th century sermon…

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The book is great because there’s a copy of the 17th century page facing an transcribed one….as well as annotations by Jim

and then a former neighbor published a 20th century Plymouth history…of Plymouth connection to Bartolomeo Vanzetti of the Sacco and Vanzetti trials

Suosso's Lane

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Edna St Vincent Millay (when she wasn’t hanging out with the like of TS Eliot) wrote a poem about this trial

Justice Denied in Massachusetts

Let us abandon then our gardens and go home
And sit in the sitting-room
Shall the larkspur blossom or the corn grow under this cloud?
Sour to the fruitful seed
Is the cold earth under this cloud,
Fostering quack and weed, we have marched upon but cannot
conquer;
We have bent the blades of our hoes against the stalks of them.

Let us go home, and sit in the sitting room.
Not in our day
Shall the cloud go over and the sun rise as before,
Beneficent upon us
Out of the glittering bay,
And the warm winds be blown inward from the sea
Moving the blades of corn
With a peaceful sound.

Forlorn, forlorn,
Stands the blue hay-rack by the empty mow.
And the petals drop to the ground,
Leaving the tree unfruited.
The sun that warmed our stooping backs and withered the weed
uprooted—
We shall not feel it again.
We shall die in darkness, and be buried in the rain.

What from the splendid dead
We have inherited —
Furrows sweet to the grain, and the weed subdued —
See now the slug and the mildew plunder.
Evil does overwhelm
The larkspur and the corn;
We have seen them go under.

Let us sit here, sit still,
Here in the sitting-room until we die;
At the step of Death on the walk, rise and go;
Leaving to our children’s children the beautiful doorway,
And this elm,
And a blighted earth to till
With a broken hoe.

There was a little field trip to Wahlburgers….I had a turkey burger…with sweet potato tots
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And I went to both a Beer tasting and a Beer dinner……

AND ….I’ve been spending time at the Richard Sparrow House. Among other things they have a very fantastic wafer iron.

waferiron sparrowhouse

Tree of Life on one side the year 1752 and another tree on the other

 

April is the cruelest  because it’s just too much.

It’s not really a complaint, it just is.

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Vincent Van Gogh Field of Yellow Flowers April 1889

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