Holsten’s, not Holstein’s like the cow, though the ice cream is the best in region by far, but Holsten’s, is remodeling the diner’s interior. It’s about time. The red vinyl covered benches and cracked formica topped tables have been there for the forty years I’ve lived in Montclair (Holsten’s is in the neighboring town of Bloomfield) and probably a lot longer. The bathrooms may be of similar vintage. I don’t know I learned early on to avoid the bathroom except in cases of emergency. Now it’s all going to change.
The booths are going to auction. Not all of them. One booth in particular, the end booth, where Tony Soprano sat in that very last scene of the Sopranos. If you live anywhere in North Jersey, maybe anywhere in the New York metropolitan area, you have seen every episode of the Sopranos. I won’t believe you if you say you haven’t. You probably can recite fragments of dialogue you heard years and years ago. Every town boasts a famous scene. Everyone living in the area at the time can recount a cast sighting or conversation. And that last scene was the topper.
For years after the Sopranos went off the air, there was a thriving Sopranos tour bus business. The bus, after wending its way past the Soprano home in North Caldwell, regularly stopped at Holsten’s. The crowd got off, dined, and shopped. I’m sure it was great for business. Kind of like winning the lottery.
Pretty much everyone in the area also has a personal Holsten’s history. I mentioned the great ice cream. Coffee chip is my favorite. Holsten’s also makes and sells chocolates. Don’t even bother trying to get in the day before Christmas or Easter. There’s Chanukah gelt too. When my kids were young, we would go there often, sometimes to eat, sometimes just for ice cream.
On for over a decade on Tuesdays my mother took care of my kids. During much of that time I was serving on the Town Council. My husband worked in New York and often had to work late. My mom was amazing. I now take care of my grandkids on Thursdays. My grandmother sat for my brother and me a lot when we were little. It’s a tradition.
Most Tuesdays my mother would take the kids to Holsten’s for dinner. She’d have a sardine sandwich (no longer on the menu) or grilled cheese or an omelet since she was quasi-kosher. Usually, the kids would have burgers and fries. Most important, they would all have ice cream for dessert. In the last year of her dementia, before she succumbed to Alzheimer’s, my mother’s diet consisted almost exclusively of chocolate ice cream. Turns out you can survive eating only ice cream. Holsten’s did not have onion rings on the menu before Tony Soprano ordered them. Now they are a staple.
My mother was taking care of my kids on Tuesday, March 21, 1995. Shortly before the Council meeting, there was a shooting at our little local post office. Four people were killed, one seriously wounded. I come back to this memory often. I wish that were not the case. And the world has gotten worse, not better–more violent, less caring. My mother took the kids to Holsten’s that night of the shooting. Knowing everything going on, the helicopters, the sirens, all right near our house, she wanted to keep things as calm and routine as possible for the children. Also, my mother was practical, especially about food. Everyone needed to eat.
Fast forward about thirty years, and I don’t eat as much ice cream as I once did. I try to be more careful about my diet. But I have developed my own Holsten’s tradition. Each year on my birthday I go to Holsten’s around lunchtime, sit at the counter and order a large hot fudge sundae, with whipped cream and a cherry. I feel special. I feel like a little kid.
People collect all sort of things. It’s not an impulse I share, but I get it: art, jewelry, baseball cards, movie memorabilia. Why not? I’m more confounded by the amounts of money involved. It’s a well-used diner booth for goodness’ sake. But perhaps seventy is a good age to learn to be less judgmental. Just so you know, as I write the current bid on eBay is $65,100, and the bidding closes on Monday.
We share so many memories. When I was pregnant and didn’t worry as much about my weight, I treated myself to banana splits at Holstens.
Who shot Tony Soprano?
I did.
Well, that is to say that one day when they were filming scene for the second season using my cousin's bird store as a location (you know, the scene where he buys the duck food) I did a shoot with James Gandolfini for a local magazine.
Now that I've got my 15 minute brush with Soprano fame out of the way, I want to mention that when I lived in Montclair, just on the other side of the park that sort of borders Holsten's I spent plenty of time there, with my son as he grew up. It was just the right kind of place to take a child, and the right kind of place in which to feel nostalgic about the kind of place it was, and of which there are now so very few. My son would happily have a hamburger and then some ice cream, and I would feast on the nostalgia remembering spending time in places like forty years earlier.
I live at the Jersey Shore now, so I don't get to Holsten's with any regularity anymore, but starting with my next birthday, wherever I am...I'm going to have a hot fudge sundae. While I'm eating it, I'll think about the anniversary of my birth, my childhood and that of my son, and also, a moment or two for my friend from Montclair who inspired this new tradition.