Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“About her,” said Gerilyn, putting an arm around Ari’s shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “I’m so happy for you, sweetie.”
I set my phone on the counter and slid it toward her. “Show me,” I said excitedly.
She found the article for me and handed the phone back. “Here. I have to grab some plates from the kitchen. I’ll be back in a minute to get your order.”
My heart raced as my eyes skimmed over the words on the screen.
In the heart of charming Cherry Tree Harbor, a family-owned eatery has been serving up tried-and-true comfort food for three generations of tourists and locals. Part homey warmth and part vintage kitsch, Moe’s Diner welcomes you with hot coffee and homemade biscuits as well as a jukebox, chrome and red vinyl, and black-and-white tile floor.
Operated by the DeLuca family since it opened in 1950, Moe’s recently got an infusion of fresh young energy, courtesy of Ariana DeLuca, daughter of current owners Maurizzo and Judy DeLuca, and a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America. Her passion for upscale comfort food is helping to reimagine the menu at Moe’s without straying from what people love about it.
“I don’t want to change Moe’s completely,” says Ariana, or Ari, as she’s known in the small town where she grew up. “I love Moe’s. The people here are family—not just the employees, but the customers too. I still want to give them delicious, filling comfort food that tastes like home. I just want to elevate it a little.”
Her innovations on classic dishes were not immediately embraced. “We like a more traditional diner menu,” Judy DeLuca says. “Not because we doubt her talent, but because we worry that people return to Moe’s again and again because they know they’ll love it. People get nervous about change.”
Ari struck a deal with her parents. “Once a week I get to put two specials on the board that are a little different,” she says with a laugh, “but the other two had to be Moe’s stalwarts. Two for them and two for me.”
As fate would have it, I stopped in on a day when she had two of her specials on the chalkboard. My opinion?
Her sophisticated twists on standard diner fare are inspired.
The Braised Short Rib Grilled Cheese is a triumph of flavors and textures. The succulent meat, braised to perfection and layered with a creamy gruyère cheese, melts in your mouth. The house-made sourdough is grilled to a golden-brown crisp, offering a satisfying crunch with every bite.
Equally impressive is the French Chicken Pot Pie. Combining traditional French ingredients like shallots, tarragon, and flaky puff pastry, DeLuca creates a pot pie that is both familiar and luxurious.
Which is exactly what the chef wants.
“I have the utmost respect for the perennial favorites,” she says. “I don’t want anyone to come to Moe’s and feel like they won’t be able to get what they came for. I just want to put my own spin on those timeless dishes. Make them more interesting, more elegant.”
If my experience at Moe’s was any indication, she succeeds. When asked if she’ll stay at her family’s restaurant or venture out on her own, DeLuca smiles. “I’m not sure what the future holds.”
No doubt she has a bright future ahead of her, no matter where she ends up. In the meantime, head to Moe’s Diner in Cherry Tree Harbor. Ms. DeLuca makes it worth the trip.
My chest felt like it might burst, I was so proud of her. She hustled out of the kitchen carrying two plates, and after setting them down in front of two customers, she hurried out from behind the counter. I was out of my seat already, my arms open. She flew right into them and I hugged her hard, picking her up off the ground.
“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” She was breathless with excitement as I set her down. “I still can’t believe the things he said!”
“Have your parents seen it?”
She nodded. “My dad didn’t come into work today, but my mom is on the phone with the local paper now. They want to do a story for our seventy-fifth anniversary this summer!”
“They must be so proud.”
She lifted her shoulders and smiled shyly. “I think they are.”
I grabbed her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Maybe now’s a good time to bring up the thing again.”
“Hey.” She stole her hands back and clasped them against her chest. “You promised you’d stop with the pressure.”
“I said I was sorry about the pressure. I never said I’d stop.”
“You’re terrible,” she said, shaking her head. “But since you’re here, can I feed you?”
“Always.” I took a seat at the counter and watched her get back to work, trying not to think about what it would be like a week from now, when I wouldn’t get to see her smile every day, or hear her voice, or make her laugh, or remind her that she shouldn’t come last on her own list.