Sweet Mary's Taste Temptress on Mill Street

     Being new to downtown living, the idea that I can walk down the street to buy freshly baked pastries and a hot cup of coffee early on a Saturday morning is truly wonderful. Sweet Mary's Bakery opened shop right on time for this city dweller.
     It was so easy to get to, especially since I was able to park right across the street from the bakery. The whole shop was warm, clean, and brightly lit. Cheerful Christmas music played overhead in a room that could easily seat thirty people. It made for a fun brunch adventure.
     I ordered the quiche lorraine. I have to tell you, it was the best quiche lorraine I have had in a long time. The crust was super flaky, there were generous cuts of real bacon, sweet onions, and just enough spices to make this savory dish feel habit forming. I was lucky to get the last serving. They had already sold out of all their other quiches.
     To round my meal off I also bought one of each cookie on display. The Russian tea cakes were perfect. Seriously. Try one, they are perfect. This round mound of butter, nuts, and flour rolled in confectioner's sugar was so good I did a double take. Which is to say I ate the whole cookie as opposed to taking a small bite and then putting it back in the box as I had intended to do.
     The rugelach was also delicious; small cream cheese dough rolled into miniature croissant shaped cookies filled with nuts and sprinkled with a proprietary mixture of spice. Perfect for tea time.
     Being tempted by their golden beauty, I ate a whole peanut butter cookie: crunchy on the outer rim, chewy without being under-baked in the middle, with chunks of peanuts throughout. It wasn't overly sweet, which made it the perfect companion to my cup of Black Squirrel coffee.
     There were some hidden perks to my downtown brunch at Sweet Mary's. I was able to pick up a jar of honey from Akron Honey Company for my tea later, and maybe come Monday I can also snag myself a bottle of Norka ginger ale to take to my son when I pick him up from school.
     I have a feeling that Sweet Mary's and I are going to be really good neighbors, especially if she keeps making those pecan pies.

Sweet Mary's is located at 76 E. Mill Street, across from the John S. Knight Center, between Broadway and South High Street.

www.sweetmarysbakery.com

www.norkabeverage.com

www.akronhoney.com

Akron on a Sunday Afternoon

This city

It has worked itself into my dreams like no other place before

The streets where I wandered as a youth no longer occupy my thoughts

It used to be my refuge
My safe place to be

Wanderer that I am I thought home would always come first

I didn't count on the meaning of home changing on me like it has

Home used to be a lonely place full of empty streets

Flat and  busy with cars that do not stop

Now the streets swing high and low on a Sunday afternoon

Hills washed in gold by the setting sun of early fall

Cheerful and welcoming

The more I see

The more I find

The more I love

Sometimes this emotion is too much

I laugh at myself for feeling so strongly for this place

At other times I think that no one else could possibly love it more

Then there are those men and women I have met

Those who allow me to see this gem through their eyes

I am struck by how much this city is loved, beloved, embraced

The one person who could rightly lay claim to being its greatest admirer

Allowed me into his private realm

I saw this place through the eyes of a father

Looking from his vantage point

I saw his hopes, felt his love, his pride and his regrets for this place

I became smitten once again

This city has won my heart

For every reason there is to want to leave

There are a thousand little things that keep you rooted here

There is no place like home

Until home is this new place

Dear Akron

Dear Akron,

     I don't know if you have noticed, but I am kind of in love with you.

     Right now, I am in tears. I am hearbroken. I am at a loss for words.

     I came here because of the trees. Every time I crossed that bridge leading into my neighborhood I could feel my heart slow down a little. As the shade of the towering canopy followed me down hill I could feel the stress of my day slowly fade.

     I deliberately had my children here, raised them here. I taught them to love the bricked roads, the crooked streets, the quirky way the city lives it's life, and most importantly I taught them to love the trees.

     If you go up onto the rooftop of the tallest building downtown and turn your eyes to where I live all you see is green. That sea of green will give you an instant jolt of calmness. Go look. Go feel. It's there waiting for you. As you take it all in remember, that vast space is shrinking. It will fade from sight if you let it.

     Unfortunately here at home, where I have to be every morning and every evening, there is nothing special left to see. Frankly, there is nothing worth looking at. I see nothing outside my windows but my neighbor's house. This isn't why I bough a house here.
   
     In my house there are no curtains in the rooms that face the front street. We bought the biggest windows we could afford so we could surround ourselves with trees. Living here was akin to living in the forest. It was the reason why we wanted to stay here as long as we possibly could. We raised seven children here. We thought that we would get to watch our grandchildren run down these streets, each of them in awe of the majestic giants their parents loved.

My beautiful Akron, the one I have fought so hard to woo, the one I have been so diligent to represent, you have broken me today. I can't go out my door without touching the bottom of the world. I cannot think of my home without crying. I feel restless and angry. I feel like you have allowed strangers into my home, allowed them to ransack it, and then when I complain about what has been done, you tell me to be quiet, to calm down because you have a plan.

Your plan does not include these trees. Your plan does not include the elegant giants that buffer the winds and cool the streets.
     When storms manage to uproot one of our trees the neighborhood mourns. Right now, we are in shock. There might be a person or two who doesn't care, but most of us are dumbstruck. We know that no matter what we say or what we do this deforestation will continue until every tree on every street is cut down and replaced by a smaller, weaker lot.

     Little by little we are realizing that what we prized won't be here for much longer. If taking away fifteen percent of the trees in one street doesn't bother you, then taking away fifteen percent of the trees in our neighborhood won't cause you any grief either.

     Why should it. You don't live here. It's not your problem. You are right. It isn't your problem yet, but it will be. See, this starts here and moves outwards. We were seen as a small, insignificant neighborhood tucked in between larger places. You thought no one would care. You did it before to another pocket of houses, and when they didn't cry out you thought that we would be doing the same.

     Akron, am I not you? Do you not care what I think? Don't you want to hear my voice?

     If you were a human and I were in love with you I would take what you have done and how you have treated me as a sign that you do not want me around any more. It's almost as if you don't even need me.

Akron's Open Streets and Better Blocks

The thing with Akron, and everyone knows this, is that it is poised to do something great. Akronites are bubbling over with excitement because things are changing, and they are changing for the better.

The younger generation isn't waiting for the older one to move aside to let them through. They are affecting change now, on their own, and on their own terms; Akron is the benefactor of all their labor.

This weekend proves it. From idea, to concept, to execution, everything was amazing. Akron is amazing.

Akron Better block and Open Streets Akron were all about the people.
Strangers got to meet and join together to create the tangible (benches, food, decorations) and to create that which you cannot touch ( goodwill, friendships, and partnerships).

What will come from this is only limited by us. We can follow the mantra of the open street, access to everyone, or we can go back home after experiencing this living, breathing beast that was, and forget why we met here in the first place.

Our neighbors aren't that different from us. Our needs aren't as big as we thing they are. Don't stay home, don't walk the same streets, don't shop at the same places, and don't go back to doing the same old thing. Shop around, move around, stop and talk to the old men, and pet the friendly dogs. Go ahead and smile at the women is colorful saris, or at the young boys with the jet black hair.

Be a neighbor, and by default you might just come away being something special. That person on the other side of the street, across the invisible line between your neighborhood and theirs, might one day become your very best friend, and you theirs.

Go ahead. Be brave. When the barriers come down and the streets are open to traffic once again, dare to walk to the other side.

                    

Market Street: Main Street to Merriman

There are some evenings

when the sun hits Akron at the right angle

and with the right intensity

magic happens.

 The light makes everything glow

You cannot ignore this fact

Akron is beautiful.

 @Yolyinbetween