No place can welcome you like the Broadway Market
The official opening is Saturday, Oct. 13 at noon. But any big production needs a little rehearsal.
I wanted the set to look like my grandmothers’ living rooms and scoured St. Vincent de Paul for furniture for weeks waiting word about my application to become a vendor at 999 Broadway — the legendary Broadway Market.
With the whole St. Vincent’s team in my corner, I finally purchased a collection of mismatched beauties as soon as I got the nod on Wednesday. On Thursday, nephew Bobby managed to squeeze it all into his pickup and my Prius and get it delivered between his classes at nearby Canisius College. The space began to take shape.
By Friday night my aching back had me grimacing and bent like a crone, but my heart was giddy. In a series of events and opportunities that would have astounded my grandparents even more than it has delighted me, I’ve come home. In the day of online everything, I’m going for the most traditional of brick and mortar.
Look for us from 9 a.m until 4 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays near the base of the down escalator across from We Are Nuts . Of course we’ll be there for all the the Holy Days of Retail Obligation around Christmas and Easter.
My “pod” neighbors include Chateau Buffalo Urban Winery and Babcia’s Pierogi. Just up the aisle Chrusciki Bakery and Strawberry Island Chocolates beckon with best tastes of my childhood (that only taste better today). Lunch break can be Pott’s Deli for Polish traditional fare, flavorful, comforting, soul food at Margie’s Soul Food and East West Cafe — and two spectacular rookies arriving at the market with me featuring world class tacos and Philippine food. It’s going to be a delicious winter.
My life story has played out with the Market as a prominent backdrop of my childhood and must-see nostalgia jolt for every visit to town over my years away.
My mother and her mother reunited after several years estrangement when my Nana spotted her first view of then-two-year-old-me in a stroller at the Market at Easter Time. I bought violets there every Easter for my other grandmother — and still buy them and my annual pussy willows at the same stand every spring for her memory.
Nana and I bought three ducklings - Flora , Fauna and Merriweather - there for my city-raised folks when they moved to the country. I was crushed to learn after a few weeks that they had to go “back to school.”
I buy my own grandchildren beautifully painted wooden eggs from Poland every year. My own daughters only know the market for the delicate angel wing pastry at Chrucsciki’s, Crystal Beach suckers and sponge candy. Neither feels about Polish Sausage with fresh marjoram as I do.
We had a “soft opening” yesterday - stopping by to introduce myself to the neighbors with my Bohemian Buffalo Necklaces. I joined the vendor club with hugs from almost everyone I met and some welcome gifts that inadvertently bridged my past and future.
I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that our opening falls on my late father’s birthday. I haven’t decided yet if it would be too hokey to cut a sausage rather than a ribbon… but if we do I’ll honor my Grandma Mohn by making sure none of it goes to waste.