Elija B.
Google
Just the name evokes magic and romance. For me it is the dark of night on a black river with lanterns swinging and the giant paddles sluicing into the water in a never ending circle.
Down river we hear the foghorn calling as if missing lost love.
The place itself reminds me of certain hippie haunts from my youth. Some along trekking roads in the far east and some in my home town, filled with a bustling of people meeting and talking and eating real food… but cleaner. Those establishments were always filled with the well traveled dust from the road.
With a touch of hesitation I got a turkey sandwich and a large hot mocha. You order at the counter, which feels a little confusing, with the jumbles of plants and the shape of the station. There seems to be a feeling of impermanence and loose organization which I suspect could grow on you. Not this place for corporate meetings or feet which do not leave the beaten path.
It seems in fact to be the antithesis of corporate America and the ever present plethora of generic chains. River Maiden is a story unto itself.
So the sandwich went beyond expectations. Turkey has never been a huge favorite of mine, probably because as a boy I killed my own and delivered them to my sainted mother who worked absolute kitchen witchery on them. Nothing else can compare.
I was pleasantly surprised! It rang all the bells and satisfied all the hopes. Central to the architecture were the red pickled onions which reminded me to rush home and start chopping.
You know they have you when you automatically want to try and reproduce it.
The chips of course are just chips, thick and crunchy though they are. I wish they were fries instead, but the sandwich was enough. The mocha was perfect even without a pretty design on top. Most importantly it came hot, I am so tired of lukewarm coffee drinks.
And then, there is the fulcrum of the place. The very spot where effort and dedication move something so much larger than itself. Where it raises up an ethos within the community. Where something magical happens and an edifice becomes part of the community, where the sum is greater than its parts.
This is what I feel as I sit there with my sandwich in hand, the buzz of community, a place essential to a wide matrix of diverse people.
Or maybe it is like river full of disjointed seemingly random parts that ultimately flows together towards the same goal.
Good food, good people, good community.