A New Year

The Bean is in limbo. Which of course means that Phil and Elizabeth's lives are in limbo. It is not the first time that the Holiday season has brought about change. Considering that The Bean officially opened five years ago, in December, it seems somewhat fitting that a rebirth should happen now (or in the near future). Unfortunately, all the bullshit surrounding this particular change is making it less than pleasant, and Bean regulars, and even semi-regulars, are keeping close tabs on the situation and sort of circling the wagons, ready to protect and defend our beloved friends.

It's not the cafe we feel the need to preserve, though the original design, decor, and atmosphere make us feel welcome and at home, it is the heart. The heart that beats in the kitchen, producing life-giving blood and sending it out to the dining room not just in the form of nourishing food, but with laughter, camaraderie and friendship that makes us feel like family. Most regulars would go to the ends of the earth for Phil and Elizabeth, happily, with no thought of receiving anything in return. I personally feel that even though my monthly food tab is astronomical, I owe them. I owe them for welcoming me into their kitchen to chat. For listening to my drama. For enjoying my children, (Yes, Phil, once in a while you slip up and I see that glint in your eye!) For sharing their recipes. For engaging me in discussions on politics and world news that have broadened my understanding of the issues. For creating a little piece of the Universe where community still matters.

This heart is what matters most here, and it can travel anywhere. Of that I feel assured. However, none of it would be possible if the food sucked. And it does not. It's not even okay. It's wonderful, and that is what draws new people into the fold every day. It is food for the soul. I've gained weight on Phil's pizza, his Front Street cookies, chocolate bread pudding, calzones, scramble specials and scones. Phil's also helped me lose weight with his salads, veggie sandwiches and soups. I am a comfort food addict and nothing restores my sense of warmth and health and peace like a big bowl of Mulligatawny stew with a hunk of Phil's fresh baguette.

It is no secret that Phil's bread, scones, and just about everything he bakes is remarkably good, and I can't help believing that the craft is only part of it and that the main reason everything's so good at The Bean is that Phil LOVES to cook and he loves the people he cooks for. He can call himself a cynic and a skeptic, he can be bitter and crabby on days when his friends tease him too much or his employees ignore his direction, but the fact is that Phil is so well loved because he has a heart of gold. You can taste it in the food. You can see it in the way he greets new customers. You can feel it when he splits an experimental brownie with you or sends you home with leftovers from the kitchen for dinner.

With Liz, it's a bit more obvious. Her soups, pasta creations, and magical turkey-stuffed delicata squash are amazing, and when you meet her, her warmth, compassion and wisdom are obvious. She makes you feel special, right from the start. She is an instant friend, mother, or sister.

Anywhoo... all of this is just my way of explaining why I go to The Bean every day and will continue to do so, no matter where it goes or how it's reinvented. While the "simple" life that Phil claims to live seems at times precarious and chaotic, it is also charmed, and even if the new location doesn't work out, something else will. Phil and Liz have touched too many people, creating a net of friendship and support that will catch them wherever they may fall.