the original owner, and the shop became Jerry’s in the 1940s or ’50s. When his dad took over, he decided to keep the name… which has led to confusion following him nearly his entire life, ever since he started working at the liquor store at age 10. (“Times were different back then.”) “Growing up here, I was known as ‘Jerry’s kid,’” Marco says. “Hey, there’s Jerry’s kid!” Today, those who are new to the city and didn’t know him growing up make the same mistake shoppers once made about his dad, assuming that he’s the Jerry. And who can blame them, really, when Marco’s the one manning the liquor store counter between 12 and 14 hours a day, seven days a week? (Oh, he “only” works six hours on Sundays.) Besides, he doesn’t mind the mix-up. A name change would be expensive, and Jerry’s is so recognizable—and so beloved—that it wouldn’t make sense. Years ago, Marco printed shirts with the shop logo and gave them out to friends. He says one buddy met a fellow Jerry’s fan while wearing his tee in Vegas, and Marco himself was sporting one as he took a seat on a bus in Jamaica and heard a voice shout out from the rear, “Jerry’s? Union Square! I love that shop!” “It’s been here so long, anyone from Somerville could hear Jerry’s and know what you’re talking about,” says “Little Jerry” with a shrug.
MIKE’S FOOD & SPIRITS | 9 DAVIS SQ.
M “Believe it or not, there is no Mike.”
aria Terranova DiSisto took over Mike’s Food & Spirits close to a decade ago, and the question we’re here to ask her on this April afternoon is one she’s gotten countless times over the last 10 years. “I get this question a million times a day: ‘Who is Mike? Who’s Mike?’” she says. “Believe it or not, there is no Mike.” Her dad had been working at the diner for a few years before taking it over in 1980. There was no Mike back then, and there isn’t one now. But there’s been a Maria for decades—she started working at the restaurant when she was just a kid. “This is the only job I’ve ever had,” Maria says. “I’ve been here since I was old enough to reach the counter.” There’s an argument to be made that Davis Square is the Somerville neighborhood that’s changed most over the last 40 years, and Maria’s watched it all transpire from behind Mike’s wide front windows. The eatery predates the Davis MBTA station, and she remembers when the area was a “ghost town” by 5 or 6 o’clock. Now, of course, it’s something of a destination. But as the neighborhood shifts around it, Mike’s hasn’t changed much. Many of the recipes in use today were passed down from Maria’s Italian grandmother. “Our dough recipe, I don’t think we’ve changed in probably 30 years,” she says. The menu is huge, but simple: pizza, pasta, subs, calzones—and those beloved 32-ounce draft beers, perfect for sipping on the patio on a warm summer afternoon. “Nothing fancy,” Maria laughs. Still, it’s a transient area, and the restaurant industry is notoriously fickle. Maria credits her “wonderful” staff with keeping Mike’s running all these years. And of course, there are the customers: both the university students who come and go and people like Lauren Mosca and Sean Donnelly who are there every week, without fail. Mosca, who’s sipping sangria at a high-top on this sunny afternoon, says she’s lived in Somerville for eight years, but that Mike’s is the first and only place where she’s felt like a regular. She describes the bartenders as mother figures, her fellow patrons like family. “I’m sitting here, and next to me is someone who doesn’t speak any English, and we’ll both just have these big smiles on our faces,” she laughs. “When I have guests visiting, I don’t really take them anywhere else.”
scoutsomerville.com May | June 2017
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