First Published: 2 Jan 2007
Well, we were not in Venice, Portofino, or Taormina - they were a continent away. I can say, however, that we were at least near the ocean. This time we found ourselves in Newport, Rhode Island for the weekend, visiting relatives. Our choice for breakfast that Saturday morning wasn’t in Italy’s greek neighbor to their east but the maps, wall accoutrements and the mosaic “Yasas” would lend you to think so.
We were in a small, local, Greek-owned restaurant named Mel’s. I love this place and try to get there whenever I’m in Newport. The proprietors of this fine culinary establishment are the Mellekas brothers - Steve and Greg, and ably assisted by various family members, usually their wives. Mel’s has been there for 22 years now and is a veritable local institution in that part of town – they must be doing something right!
There are tables in a small dining room but there is something about the counter there and its phalanx of rotating stools like those I recall as a kid at home in the local W. T. Grants restaurant or Holley’s Drug Store on Main Street. Alongside of you at the counter might be a local fireman, fishermen or a dad out early with his kids. The stools, the counter, its catsup bottles, creamer, salt/pepper, “communal” butter dish and stack of by now, dog-eared newspapers define this place. I imagine you can conjure up a similar institution from your own memory.
The Mellekas’s (hense the name Mel’s) breakfast and lunch eatery fronts Broadway beneath a sign proclaiming “Mel’s Cafenio”. A back door up a short flight of stairs exits onto Spring Street. In years past, this wedge-shaped intersection of Broadway and Spring was the home of the “RI”, another renowned but now departed diner. Although I’m going on hearsay when I say this (but I assure you from reputable sources), the RI on any Saturday night, around 11pm, would be flooded by Newport Catholics ordering last minute hamburgers and hotdogs. A small opening in the wall out to Spring Street dispensed the fare, which then had to be consumed by midnight in order to satisfy communion fasting rules for Sunday Mass! But I have digressed.
My standard breakfast order (I’ve never had lunch there) isn’t on the menu. I’ve been there enough now that the “brothers Mel” will work up a feta and chourico omelet when I appear. That will wake up your taste buds! Along with home fries, toast and coffee, I get to use that communal butter bowl and peruse the newspaper! Conversation ranges from golf to how the Celtics, Bruins or Patriots are doing – after all you are in New England. Be aware, however, that this is no 3, 4 or 5 star haute cuisine concern. My wife, Marie Elena, would advise that you use a restroom before you visit and not concern yourself with a less than spotless floor! This is, after all, a greasy spoon place so don’t let a little grease bother you.
A few years back, Mels expanded through the wall into, I believe, some of the old RI’s space but don’t be heading there some night at 11pm looking for a burger – the brothers are ensconced only from 5am to 2pm.
If you have an itch to explore, off the beaten path that is, stop at Mel’s and mention I sent you in their direction.
Yasas, Paolo
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