
Last night, we had our all-staff-and-friends Ristretto holiday party. Usually, we do this at a dive bar, keep an open tab, get some food and karaoke. This year, it was not an option, for financial reasons; because we were busy opening a third location; because I was flying back and forth across the country, and because the week between Christmas and New Year's, Din and I were both hacking our brains out. The staff was fine with no bash, except they kept saying, "We can just do it at your house, it will be better, we will bring everything." And we thought, yes, great, but not this week, we are just so sick...
About a week ago, I got a text from Rachel Goldstein, our first-ever employee, now manager and art curator at the Williams cafe. She wanted to set a date for the party -- how about the 7th? I thought it was a little funny, not really Rachel's style to text, but I was grateful: it was on. The staff, again, kept saying, you guys don't have to do anything; we're going to bring everything. Well, okay!
Din and I really laid in very little. I made two spanokopita and some cookies. He bought three bottles of booze and some ice. And we had a case of cheap wine. And the music turned on. At 6:45, our crew started to arrive: Stephen with homemade salsa, Steve with wine; a few bottles of bourbon appeared. Alyssa carried in the best cake ever made in the history of cakedom. They were homemade salted truffles from Natalie and Rachel; there were homemade empanadas from Josh and his girlfriend Anna. Homemade bread, homemade gin, bourbon; a killer mac & cheese; beer. Wine. More wine. Champagne. Friends. The house was glowing. It was full, twenty of us crammed in the kitchen...
"Rommelmann! Come spend some time in the fucking living room." This, from Josh Gibby. Okay! We started talking about marriage; we were in Josh and Heather's wedding, about how...
Ting ting ting ting ting!
Someone was tapping a glass. It was Natalie, standing in front of the stereo, calling for quiet. Forty people quieted down. I noticed they were all already gathered around, and behind her, Dave Allen was shooting video with his phone.
I can't remember her exact words, so here is a paraphrase:
"We are here tonight at Nancy and Din's and we want to say thank you to them for having this party, and for having such an awesome company, and for treating us so well. We love Ristretto, and we love you guys, and so we got you something from all of us."
And then, from stage right, Rachel and someone (and forgive me, I don't remember who because I was so startled) walked in carrying this huge... something, covered in a blue sheet, and they take off the sheet, and it is what you see above, a beetle carved from wood that was part of an art show at Williams that Rachel curated several months ago. Din and I, at the time, had loved this piece, but it cost something like $1200, and there was no way, not with building out the new shop...
"We knew you guys loved it," Natalie continued, "and so we all chipped in, and some of the customers, too, Keith and Justin and Andre, and Tafv, too, when she was here, and we got it for you."
I don't know what Din and I looked like, seeing this, listening to this, but I can tell you what it felt like: I was floored, and flooded. And so Din and I took a moment to tell them what is absolutely true: yes, Din has a good idea, and he works hard, but we are nothing, Ristretto does not exist without these people, and that we love them, and consider ourselves beyond fortunate.
Cheers. We toasted some more. Jennifer told me, I'd lost her ten bucks because she'd bet I would cry and I didn't, and what up with that? We drank more wine, and ate more cake. The room was happiness qua happiness. It was a wonderful party, they made it all so.