Historical November–December 2013 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
You should know something about Sean’s childhood. Mom worked nights as a nurse.
She also did all of the cooking. So, on the nights that she worked, she either made a casserole for us to put in the oven, or she left things to Dad.
When Option B happened, the McGroarty children frequently [wording missing in printed source]
We can just see the foodies in the reading audience salivate at the mere mention of chicken pot pies. Yes, these were exactly what you are imagining: cardboard box, aluminum mini plates, greasy upper crusts, and enough sodium and trans fats (whatever those are) to make the modern First Lady cry.
They were fantastic! Fast forward 25 years after the last such frozen morsel.
We headed out to Water Street on Manchester in Maplewood.
We knew about Water Street because we had almost gone there once, accidentally. Water Street has indoor and outdoor seating.
We chose the latter, which would have dramatic consequences later. Once seated, the words Chicken Pot Pie on the menu immediately caught Sean’s eye. Flashbacks ensued: Dad McGroarty calling children down for dinner; oilcloth table coverings and mis-matched tableware; six McGroarty children fighting for the least-burnt dish of chickenny goodness. “I’m getting the Chicken Pot Pie!” Sean blurted out before Cristina even had the chance to open the menu.
We all know Sean married up in this arrangement. Cristina calmly suggested we look at the wine list first.
This is where sitting outside proved critical. Perusing the wine list, we noticed a bottle happily named Domaine de Cristina. “It’s a sign of Something!” we said fervently, and asked the waiter to bring us a bottle.
The waiter smiled patiently, said something about bouquets, wood chips, and Provencal soil, and left to fetch said bottle. Yes, it was a sign: a sign that our 40 year-old eyes can no longer read in dim lighting. “Cristina” wine, it was not. “Cristia” wine, it was.
The menu said, “grenache, fairly full and smooth with a touch of oak.” I don’t know what that means.
I do know, however, that it was awfully tasty. That surprise behind us, we ordered our main dishes. Cristina chose the Pair and Prosciutto Flatbread, Sean, the aforementioned pot pie. Enjoying the “grenache, fairly full and smooth with a touch of oak,” Sean eagerly awaited the chance to relive a piece of his childhood. Imagine his shock and horror when the chicken pot pie came, without one bit of aluminum in sight. No cardboard, either. And, it appeared that the dish was made completely from fresh ingredients! Well, who really wants to relive their childhood, anyway? Midway through the first bite, the frozen dinners were forgotten.
The chicken actually retained its texture, the vegetable were just slightly crunchy, and the crust was flaky and magnificent. Cristina’s dish was every bit as good as the pot pie.
The flatbread would have been a tasty meal by itself. Topped with balsamiccaramelized pears, prosciutto, and parmesan, it was like eating dinner and dessert at the same time.
The food at Water street is simple, fresh, and really, really good.
The menu fits the atmosphere perfectly. Once you walk into Water Street, you immediately feel at ease.
The chairs are comfortable, the staff is friendly, and the décor and lighting is soft and inviting. Water Street does not lend itself to hurried meals and frenzied activity.
It is a place to go when you want to enjoy your meal, appreciate those you are with, and take your time.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, November–December 2013.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Archival transcription note: Printed opening paragraph stops after Mc Groarty children frequently and resumes We can just see. Missing predicate marked; no completion invented. Printed Pair and Prosciutto retained despite later pears.
Original source: SD_Times2013_11.pdf, printed page(s) 5; PDF page(s) 5.
