The Monterey
Café (153 Keen)
The Monterey
evolved from a fruit shop acquired by
Peter Nick Crethary in 1930.
He
had landed in 1922 after a stint as
a
Khartoum cotton
merchant and WW1 sergeant in the Greek army,
initially working for his
cousin Peter Angelo Crithary
at Glen Innes before opening his own
business
around the corner a year or so later. But the bitterly cold Tablelands’ winters
eventually got the better of him. So in 1929 he and his new bride, Anna John Coroneo,
followed his shipmate, Harry Jim Crethar, to Lismore, starting as a shift manager at the Apollo Sundae Shop (131
Keen) until acquiring the fruit shop (probably from Harry Jim and his
brother Nick) and gradually developing it into a kitchen-equipped
cafe
as the Depression deepened.
Monterey Café 1943. L to R: Matina Crethary, Peter Crethary,
Grace Collins.
(Courtesy Matina King) |
The heyday of the Monterey was the war
years when Americans from the camps around Tweed Heads and the ships
calling in at Ballina, the Dutch and Indonesians from Casino, home grown
Australians from Evans Head, and assorted Filipinos and others, were on
the prowl for R & R outlets, finding Lismore to have the best hoppin’ and
boppin’ venues in the region. ‘The
Riviera’
dance hall down the river end of Magellan became the ‘in’ place for cool
jazz and demonstrations by the Americans of the Lindy Hop and the
very latest Swing and Jitterbug moves. (The women swooned and the males
fumed.) The cafes benefited concomitantly, but the long hours due to lack
of staff, increasing hassles over rationing, quotas, electricity
restrictions, price fixing, and a host of minor irritants, prompted Peter
to scale back the Monterey in late 1944 and concentrate on the Star Court.
By 1948 it was still trotting along at half pace when he decided to close
it down after finding no willing buyers, subsequently holding a huge
auction, where everything down to the lino on the floor was offered, and
walking away from the business.
[The year 1948 wasn’t a
propitious one for any proprietor. Early that year saw another straw added
to the café proprietor’s load when
Milk bar and confectionery shops assistants employed outside Sydney and
Greater Newcastle areas have been granted a wage increase of 5s per
week. Female shop assistants are to be paid 75 per cent of the male wage....
In addition, the new Restaurant Employees State
Award made it compulsory for staff to be given two full days a week
off. As paying penalty rates for working in excess of five days wasn’t
acceptable, daily adverts for additional cafe staff were a regular feature
for a while. Then came the referendum of mid 1948 that rejected the
Commonwealth Government’s power to continue price fixing and, with the progressive
ending of rationing and quotas on various commodities, market forces took
over and the price of everything rose (although State governments
continued retail price fixing on some products for a fair period - notably
butter, the rationing of which, 6ozs/person/wk, ended in mid 1950, but not
the trials and tribulations of the dairy industry and hence the regional
economy.) This, in conjunction with higher
wages due to near full employment, meant places like the Monterey were
doomed without costly makeovers and reorientation, although the
three-course meal remained a menu staple.
The Cretharys were relieved to
be in retirement by Apr54 when
they read that
The Shop Assistants’ Union has
served a new log of claims on
milk bar and restaurant
proprietors seeking substantial
wage increases and improved
conditions for 10,000 employees.
The log asks for wage increases
from
£6/6/-
to
£8
a week for male employees under
17 years of age, and from
£6/3/8
to
£7
for females.... For seniors, the
union asks
£14 for men and
£10/10/- for women.
Present wages are
£13/12/- and
£9/11/- respectively.
Other claims in the new log
include... reduced hours,
more overtime pay, more sick
leave....
For some reason the standard
three courser continued as a culinary compulsion for country customers
through to the late 50s, all demanding value (ie quantity) for money.
Through collusion the price at all cafes throughout the whole region
remained consistent at 1/3d through to 1920 and 1/6d to 1941. Thereafter
increases were sharp and frequent; 2/- in 1941, 2/6d in 1945, 3/6d in 1948
until things leveled off at 4/6d in 1953. By 1957 the price had climbed
marginally to 5/-, the proprietors keeping a lid on things in the face of
the clubs’ competition, but thereafter the remaining customers baulked and
the old three courser faded away.]
In the meantime the Monterey became one of
the favoured haunts of the serviceman. Notwithstanding Matina and Mary,
the popularity was due in part to Peter’s remarkable ability to speak
eight languages, the large Italian community, of necessity keeping a low
profile (except for the brightly red-clad POWs on work relief schemes),
also being amongst the beneficiaries when he helped out with shopping and
general administrative problems.
The Monterey provided four waitresses as
war brides, three to the USA and one to Holland, and post war hundreds of
letters accumulated, mainly from the USA, typically addressed to Miss
….., c/- The Monterey Café,
Lismore, Australia, perhaps
leading to a few more liaisons.
And Matina and Mary? They started serving
meals at the Monterey at breakfast time before going to the Star
Court, finishing up back at home base way after midnight, then deja
vue all over again a few hours later. Sunday afternoon ‘happy hour’,
when the guitars and accordions appeared, became a Monterey institution,
attracting all nationalities for the conviviality. The servicemen would
tap on the window before they opened, the Americans enamoured of their ham
and eggs for early breakfast, while their mother Anna gave the
Greek-American soldiers a taste of mum’s home cooking.
[And another digression: One of Lismore’s
attractions for the American servicemen was the quaint taxi service. The
oldest stand in Woodlark Street was still reserved for the horse and buggy
service, petrol rationing increasing the demand through WW2. But the
romantic and nostalgic Americans, waving fists’ full of funny money, tied
up the rigs by hiring for all-day tours around the traps,
generating a bit of discord with some but keeping the café proprietors
smiling with orders for picnic lunches.
And by the bye: Jumping on the American
bandwagon was Bert Cockerell, with a chemist shop a couple of doors from
the Church of Christ in Keen Street, who installed a soda fountain into
his pharmacy in the early war years as some sort of take on the American ‘Soda
Fountain Drugstore’ concept. He was still competing with the
milkbars and dispensing lemon sodas and other elixirs from the thing in
the mid 50s.]
In 1944, after living all those years
above the cafe, the Cretharys moved to a house down the end of Keen
opposite the Workers Club and by the early 50s had semi retired. Peter was
a foundation member of the ‘Lismore and District Orthodox Community’
and upon his death in 1958 was honoured to have Archbishop Athenagoras,
The Archbishop of London and West Europe, conduct the funeral service,
with the less than Very Reverend Chrys Boyazoglu, Archimandreti of the
Greek Orthodox Church of Southern Queensland and Northern NSW, in the
background.
The Monterey remained a vacant shop for
some time, subsequently housing a succession of businesses, one an Italian
fruiterer, until it was demolished around 1970 and the Mandarin Palace
Chinese Restaurant erected, the first purpose-built restaurant in
Lismore in yonks and still trading strongly.
[Psst. While Peter Nick mainly called
himself Crethar, like all the Kritharis around the place, the name used
here is Crethary to help differentiate between all the cunning crethures.
Harry’s family (his father Eric Victor and uncle Angleo) carried the
nickname ‘Balomenos’, while the only other known
parachouklï,
‘Zouzounas’, belonged to Peter John Crethar (‘Crithary’) of Woodenbong and
earlier of Lismore. (And he married Fofo Nick Crethary, the sister of
Peter Nick. And… You know how it goes.) DNA testing seems the only
solution.]
After much contemplation on the capricious
nature of catering, Harry moves on to assess the convoluted Coronakes
enterprises.
Top
The Coronakes Wonder Bar
(141 Keen)
Phase one
Paul Coronakes (Pavlos Koronakis), a red headed Corfiote (the
family suspects a Scottish soldier somewhere in the background), landed
pre WW1 and mainly based himself around Murwillumbah until coming to
Lismore in 1919 to acquire a cafe in Woodlark. After the Greeks were
given a hiding in the Great Barrow Wars of 1923 he filled the fruit and
veggie vacuum by establishing ‘The Lismore Fruit Exchange’, pretty
soon undercutting the existing wholesalers (by then all Anglo-Australian
again) and supplying a heap of retailers around town and outlying
villages, as well as getting a little over-extended by returning to Murbah
later that year to open a retail
and wholesale branch of his new enterprise, left in the hands of an
unknown manager. The following year he moved the Woodlark outlet into a
bigger shop next door and
created two departments, one devoted to fruit and veggie retailing and the
other as an upgraded refreshment room business. By 1925 he had his own
buying agents around the state, bypassing the markets and purchasing
direct from growers, enabling bedrock prices and almost complete
domination of the wholesale distribution business over the Richmond-Tweed
region, with his lorries doing regular supply runs to almost every village
and hamlet around the traps. In 1927 he opened another shop in Molesworth,
a combination refreshment room and fruit retailer, and in 1928 acquired a
12 acre plot out along the Bexhill road, where he employed Italian market
gardeners to keep his enterprise supplied with fresh veggies.
But by then the great fruit gluts had
started, particularly around the Riverina region where the growers were
overproducing on a par with the local dairy farmers. The Griffith
Producers Coop was even running its own trains around the state, stopping
at almost every siding to flog the stuff direct from the carriage.
Mountains of rotting fruit appeared on railway platforms everywhere. And
also by this time the canned fruit industry was making great inroads (Eat
more fruit for your own and your country’s sake, said one of their
adverts.) By 1928 the
local rag had stopped navel gazing and started to notice what was
happening in the rest of the state, commenting on work relief schemes and
unemployment plans elsewhere, which for the 68 unemployed fruit industry
workers at Leeton consisted of a week’s rations and a road map showing the
way out of town. (And 3yrs later the amazing gathering of 8000
disgruntled growers at Wagga calling for secession of Riverina from NSW
put funny ideas into the heads of the Richmondites.) The following
years were a dreadful period for everyone, not least for the Southern
Europeans as ‘White Australia’ again began to get an airing.
Paul then cranked up his ovens to
aggressively wholesale cakes, pastries and pies, and in 1931 gave his
Woodlark cafe another makeover to re-emerge as the ritziest establishment
in town, notwithstanding that the Capitol and Crethars would beg to
differ. While he scaled back his fruit operation, he still remained the
biggest wholesaler and retailer in town, taking a leaf from the Griffith
entrepreneurs' marketing manual by starting a bulk fruit selling operation
direct from the railway station, at least into 1931. Shortly afterwards however, he sold the
Molesworth business, also refurbished in 1931, to concentrate on building
back the fruit business and by the mid 1930s was in a position to again
deal exclusively in fruit, selling up in Woodlark to operate from a new
outlet at 139 Keen. But things were still disagreeably competitive;
the new site was just down from where a barrowman, with the slogan Buy
White Australian First emblazoned across his cart, had recently
vacated, but just up from where the ‘Black & White Café - Managed
and Staffed by Australians’ was about to open. A couple of years later
he relocated next door to 141 Keen.
Lismore
Fruit Exchange, Keen Street, 1937. Paul Coronakes
in suit
(Courtesy Matina King) |
By this time though, other Greeks in the
region had made inroads into his wholesale business; The Feros Bros of
Byron Bay, Mick Feros of Ballina, the Sargents/Terakes of Lismore, the
Varella and Angouras Bros of Murbah all had a carrier businesses and had
carved out bits of his territory. Nevertheless, he remained the major
player and was still known as the ‘The Fruit King’ upon his death
in 1940, at which time he had three trucks running around the region on
supply runs.
Phase Two
His nephew, the entrepreneurial Spiro Coronakes, then took the reins, but fed up with the inconvenience of
using the back lane for loading and unloading the lorries, subsequently
moved the business across the road to the large shop at 144 Keen. The
space turned out to be far more than needed, so he had the brainwave of
dividing it down the centre and creating ‘The Continental Greek Club’,
later simply ‘The Continental Club’ as it became a socialising
venue for the increasing number of Southern Europeans, mainly Italian,
beginning to appear around the district in the post war years.
The club initially consisted of a couple
of billiard tables, then a few card tables appeared and before he knew it
high rollers and shady characters were appearing from as far afield as
Brisbane. Sheep stations began to change hands at the baccarat and manila
tables, and marathon card games lasted up to three days and nights, all
overseen by a manager who was a military genius on camouflage, so much so
that the police never stumbled across it. Jack Sargent became manager from
1954 after closing his similarly orientated Tattersals Club across
the road, followed by the Kytherian Taso Pagonis, alias ‘Phar Lap’, around
1958.
Meanwhile his faithful lorry continued its
regular runs to the Brisbane markets, thankfully knowing the way without
any input from Spiro, often sighted bleary-eyed at the wheel after the
card marathons. And to the chagrin of all Lismore males his lucky streak
continued, winning the ultimate hand, that of the exquisite Matina
Crethary, in 1946. At this time he still had three trucks and was doing an
increasing amount of carrier work for the Banana Growers Federation, his
drivers sometimes transporting the yellow peril all the way to the
Melbourne markets.
[The
wedding was Lismore’s social
event of the year, with over 300 guests gathering at the Apollo Hall to
party into the wee hours under the influence of serene jazz provided by
the famous Kewpie Harris Band. Some aficionados credit the great Kewpie,
who formed his first local band in Ballina around 1919, with being the
father of Australian jazz. He retired as the resident bandleader at the
Riv in 1950/51 and the place suffered a drop in popularity until his ex-apprentice, Stan Chilcott, previously a leader of house bands at the
Federalette and Apollo, took over the lease in 1956. A great era ended in
1965 when the Riv finally succumbed to the rock band ascendancy, while the
Apollo was reoriented in 1953 upon the retirement of Jacob Charleston.
(One of the new attractions at the Apollo was schoolboy boxing
tournaments, with 10yr olds beating the crap out of each other in the name
of ‘character building’.)]
Around 1948, frustrated with
the lack of passing trade on the outside of the block, Spiro returned the
retail side of the business to 141 Keen, renaming the joint ‘Tropicana’.
Shortly afterwards however, he found fruit retailing becoming very
competitive with the entry of the Italians into the game, prompting him,
along with other Greek fruiterers, to turn half the shop into a milk bar,
the place re-emerging as the ‘Coronakes Wonder Bar’, incorporating
the very latest in milkshake and sodaology, and so named by Matina after
her favourite song from Al Jolson’s similarly titled hit movie ‘Wonder
Bar.’ A little later the remaining fruit was given the flick and a series
of 4 seater cubicles installed down the side opposite the wondrous bar.
But after a couple of years he left the place in the hands of a manager to
concentrate on his wholesale fruit business and the place started to
suffer a little neglect.
Coronakes Wonder Bar 1950. L
to R: Gwen Griffin, Unknown, June Sharp, Barbara Hill, Francis Licklis
(Courtesy Matina King) |
Enter Harry Crethar exclaiming ‘Eureka!’
He’d found it, the perfect location and formula for his dream shop. After
heavy negotiations with the cunning Spiro, Harry and his father Eric took
out a loan dwarfing the GDP of Greece and the following year, 1956, made
Spiro an offer he couldn’t refuse.
Phase Three
Spiro moved next door (143 Keen), taking
the ‘Tropicana’ name with him, and decided to resume business as a
pure fruit retailer, any other option being out of the question due Harry
being built like a Sumo Wrestler. On the wholesale front he and Nick Terakes of Sargent’s Markets, together with
Mick Feros who relocated to
Lismore from Ballina in 1955, carved up the Richmond between them. Amongst
other markets, Spiro won the ironic contract to supply Woolworths,
nowadays, along with Coles, retailers of 70% of the nation’s fruit and
veggies and Terminators of the independent fruiterers. He drew his last
card at the Continental in 1962, leaving Matina to sell Tropicana to an
Anglo-Australian proprietor while she got on with nurturing the next
generation of Coronakes entrepreneurs, one of whom, Alex, subsequently
returned the business to family hands.
The Continental went into receivership in
1966 and was acquired as a going concern by the Italian, Ron Fiore, but
closed forever 18mths later after a series of burglaries and boofheaded
acts of vandalism. The building was absorbed into McKenzie Bros second-hand business and a new Continental Club, exclusively Italian and devoted
to the genteel sport of Bocce only, opened around the corner. Shortly
afterwards the Continental Balls, featuring all nationalities, faded away.
They had become major social events at the Apollo Hall from 1954 and were
also mega affairs on the social calendar at Mullumbimby and Murwillumbah,
where post war migration also had brought many different national groups,
mainly to be found in the banana plantations.
Alex, who had started in the fruit
business at age five, spent a few years with the Terakes at Sargents
Markets, amongst other places, until going back to work at the Tropicana
after it had been resurrected by the Sheaffs as a fruit shop under the
original name. Following a few other adventures he returned again to the
Sheaffs, buying the business in 1989. In 1994, again in need of a more
convenient rear lane access for the wholesale side of the business, he
took the trade name, long synonymous with quality fruit, with him when he
acquired the shop of the Italian Pilatis family in Woodlark Street. And
then in 1997 everything came full circle when he returned the Tropicana to
its original home at 141 Keen, with a Thai Take Away as his new neighbour
at 143. And there he is today, carrying on the near 85yr old Coronakes
tradition, the only ‘Greek’ left in the fruiterers’ business and the only
independent fruiterer left on the block, deflecting the Coles/Woolies
firepower with superior service and produce (including tomatoes with
taste.)
The camera now pans back to 1956 and
focuses on young Harry behind the counter at the renamed ‘Crethar
Wonder Bar,’ later colloquially known as ‘Harrys.’ Although
outside the time line, no story on Lismore gastronomy would be complete
without mention of, (pause for drum roll and to make the sign of the cross,)
the legendary Crethar Hamburger, Lismore’s culinary gift to the nation
along with The Mecca Pie and The Nellie Milkshake.
Top
The Crethar
Hamburger
Harry and his dad wasted no time in adding
a series of mod cons, the culmination of which was the introduction of
music selection boxes at each booth where the latest pop tunes could be
chosen at the table and relayed to the jukebox upstairs. The students from
across the road loved it all, the place quickly becoming a Lismore
institution. But, notwithstanding the other attractions that made it the
‘in’ place for a few generations of schoolies, it was the hamburger that
had them swooning. These discerning scholars were the official tasters,
and continual feedback and experimenting led to the final product
appearing on the streets by the early sixties. Over the years thousands of
students survived on a steady diet of the wondrous creation, and continue
to show their appreciation by inviting Harry to all class reunions, at
which he is invariably toasted for his awesome accomplishment.
Crethar’s
Wonder Bar 1960. Eric Crethar
behind bar on left.
(Courtesy Harry Crethar) |
The Crethar had its beginnings in 1942
when British bombing forced Harry and his mother to abandon Piraeus and
seek refuge in Athens, a city suffering near famine conditions and
rumbling stomachs crying out for an impresario to restage the ‘loaves and
fishes’ banquet. Harry, a fledgling entrepreneurial caterer, quickly
figured out how weeds mixed with a bit of salvaged oil could be a gourmet
delight and the taste of cat and dog could be enhanced with a bit of
ingenuity. Searching further afield for these increasingly scarce
ingredients was verboten, so he toyed with including rats and cockroaches
on the menu, but gave the idea away when he found rival urchin gangs had
already cornered this market. From then on experimentation with boiled
shoe leather and the like gave him experience across the whole catering
gamut.
Next came the journeyman phase of his
training. With a heap of pounds sterling, which Eric eventually had
managed to send through, he and his mother gained dormitory style
accommodation, shared with about a 1000 others, on a modified rusty
Yugoslav freighter staffed with ex-army cooks in serious need of
inspiration. The novelty of a plane flight from Melbourne to Evans Head
ended the odyssey and the start of a lifetime’s association with Lismore.
After English lessons, completion of schooling and adaptation to
Australian tastes through further on-the-job training in various Greek
establishments around town, not to forget the winning of a boxing blue
during National Service, (invaluable training as a bouncer), he was ready
for the final prodigious step towards conception of the indomitable
Crethar.
Word of the miracle spread quickly and by
the time he sold the business in 1980 at least 1,000,000 of the venerable
viands had walked out the door, either as takeaway or in contented
stomachs, and served in various combinations from deluxe with ‘the lot’
(beetroot optional) down to the ‘plain’ no-frills version. Despite his
retirement from the feedlot business however, Lismore didn’t lose its
famous fodder; the new proprietors were canny enough to carry on the
formula, although it lacked Harry’s artistic touch, and by the time the
business closed 20yrs later, due to undercutting from the dreaded Big Mac,
another 1,000,000 had been consumed. It was the end of an era and Lismore
declared an official day of mourning.
So what was this incredible phenomenon?
Harry refuses to divulge, so the best we have is the observation of one
determined gourmet who allegedly penetrated the tight security screen and
left us with a record of a ritual involving moulding a meatball with an
unidentified eleventy seven different herbs and spices, steaming over a
colander until required, shaped into a pattie during light grilling,
and reverently placed between two thick pieces of toast. Alas, this
doesn’t pinpoint the actual magic moment that transformed the ordinary to
the sublime, and tragically we won’t know until his will is read.
Harry was also famous for a heap of
confection inventions. The one still talked about is the ‘Fruit
Cocktail'; half a scoop of his own secret strawberry syrup into a
parfait glass, half a scoop of his own secret pineapple crush, half a
scoop of his own magic orange juice mix, all blended and topped off with
fruit salad. Then there was the ‘Witch’s Blood’ - coke poured onto
his strawberry syrup and topped with ice-cream. And the ‘Orange
Fluff’, and ….. (Only one other
person knew the secret of that strawberry syrup. And he’s dead. Frith the
chemist, Harry’s nearby neighbour, had a nose that could pick one stray
molecule amongst zillions, winning him free milkshakes for life in
exchange for not divulging the formula.)
Harry’s father Eric also had
a flair for confection conception. Whilst working for Angelo pre-war he
concocted a variation of the famous
‘Hava Heart’, the chocolate-coated ice-cream on a stick introduced
by Paul's Ice Cream and Milk Ltd in 1934.
In his case the thing evolved into
‘The Rocket’ and
was
manufactured by creating a
cylinder of ice-cream with a special scoop, pushing a stick up the centre
and dipping in chocolate. Simplicity itself, but the stick was the
brainwave addition that gave an old sundae product a new takeaway life.
The school kids drooled, and as quick as a flash all the milk bars copied
the novelty with shape variations, but still couldn’t keep up with demand
– until the ever-vigilant commercial operators jumped on the bandwagon,
undercutting the price and flooding the market. Then there was his
‘Rainbow Slice’ - wedges cut from a family sized brick of Peter’s
Neapolitan ice-cream and placed between wafers.
The Wonder Bar has the
distinction of being the last cafe in town to manufacture its own soda.
Most cafes retained their elaborate counter bars, incorporating both
carbonated drink dispensers and milkshake mixers and their associated
‘under the counter’ paraphernalia and accessories, into the 1950s. All
except Harry however, had removed the soda fountain stuff (carbonator,
valves, plumbing, etc) to make way for the commercial soda water and soft
drinks by the mid 50s. But in 1960 Harry, fed up with maintaining the
cantankerous machinery, also succumbed, to the chagrin of the connoisseurs of his lime
ice-cream sodas who swore his home brew had more tingling oomph than the
bottled stuff. The milkbars became major retailers of the rapidly
expanding range of commercially bottled and canned soft drinks, at least
until the customers could stock their own fridges direct from the cheaper
supermarkets, so delivering another of the thousand cuts that led to the
death of the traditional milkbar. In the early 1960s came Mr Whippy,
directly delivering ice creams, drinks and tinkling music to almost every
house in town, followed by the introduction of the disposable waxed
container in the mid 1960s, enabling the patron to take away his milkshake
or orange squash along with his hamburger and not be tempted to linger for
a sundae accessory. Along the way the ubiquitous free-standing
self-service coke bottle dispenser displaced display cabinets, while the
gradual introduction of other ‘bolt-on’ mod cons eventually cluttered the
places beyond recognition.
As for showmanship, Harry had
no equal, the word charrysma being coined in his honour. Hours of practice
enabled him to pour a milkshake from the container in his left hand over
the three-foot distance to the glass in his right, then flick a straw into
the air that landed with military precision into the glass just as he
presented it to the applauding patron, all without spilling a drop (at
least most of the time.) Ice-creams were dispensed by somersaulting the
scoop six feet into the air and catching the separated ice-cream ball in
the cone in his right hand while his left caught the scoop. The
performance brought customers and Hollywood agents in droves.
And so did his barbequed
chooks. In 1970 he was the first in Lismore to introduce the rotisserie,
cunningly placed at the front of the shop so the glorious smell wafting up
and down the street was as irresistible as the Pied Piper’s flute in
drawing people to the door. The golden birds rotating on the spit, stuffed
with his secret seasoning and basted with his secret marinade, remained
the juiciest in town for many years.
In 1973 he opened a pinball
parlour at number 145, on the other side of Tropicana, but we won’t talk
about that, simply summarizing that he closed the place 4yrs later after
finding it too hard to supervise the delinquents. Nor will we dwell on his
handling of the aimless louts who discovered his was the place always open
after midnight on Saturday to cater to the post dance crowd. (The
overflow from Harry’s late night trade found a home in 1960 when ‘The
Bar-B-Q’ opened on Dunstan’s old nursery site behind Bert Cockerell’s
chemist shop, near the Church of Christ in Keen. It
had a grill and a few tables and chairs under a pergola and could do you
steaks, snags and rissoles in a bun through to 3AM. It was a popular haunt
through the 60s, the crowds often spilling onto Keen street in a mill
generating a 6 on the Richter Scale, but by the time it closed in 1977 the
night owls had found other places to hunt.)
Harry’s success was aided and abetted by
the gorgeous Maria Coronakes, from the fruit shop next door, whose hand he
managed to win in 1967 after beating off determined rivals from near and
far. They now hold together the remnants of the once enormous Greek
presence on the Northern Rivers, which for a time in the fifties was
probably the home to the largest Greek enclave in country NSW. Plans were
put in place for the construction of a church, Agios Haralambos of
course, but, alas, their dreams were never realised. |
|
Wonder Bar 1969. (Harry and Maria Crethar with
Peter Coronakes) |
And in retirement he often sits on the
airfield-sized deck of his mansion overlooking Lismore, with hovering
maid ready to top his champagne glass with a bit more Moet, and
contemplates what might have been. He coulda been rich. If only he’d had
the foresight to patent and franchise his creation ‘The Crethar’ would now
be the international form of currency rather than ‘The Macca’. Whata
tragedy.
But, back to the future (it’s 1955
remember), the younger and less wise Harry veers across the road to check
out Steve Appo in his shop near the Coronakes betting bank.
Top
Appo’s Fish Shop
(128 Keen)
This site had been a dedicated fish ‘n’
chip shop since 1908 when the Italian, Angelo Iveli, re-located the third
Oyster Saloon in town, after those of Comino and Andrulakis, from
Woodlark. Nick Calligeros had it for a couple of years in the early 1920s,
but it changed hands many times over the following years until stability
was brought by the ex-fisherman, Stylianos Giorgios Apogrimiotis,
initially in partnership with his mate Sid Eyles, in 1940. Twenty eight
year old Steve had sailed into Adelaide from Aliverio, Euboia, in 1927 and
spent most of his time around Streaky Bay in SA and Texas in Qld prior to
settling permanently in Lismore in 1937. While the fish ‘n’ chip shop was
his primary day job he also had a couple of farms, one at Lennox Head and
one at Alphadale, the latter oriented towards market gardening and
providing dressed chooks, pineapples and the like to the shops around
town. Another extracurricular activity was an insulated truck used to
deliver seafood straight from the trawlers at Evans Head to customers and
outlets as far afield as Kyogle, competing with John Karambasis who
sourced his fish from the Ballina trawlers. All of which left him a very
busy man, starting work at 4am and closing the shop at 9pm, except on
Sunday when he slept in until 9am.
|
|
Appo’s
Café 1952
Steve Apogremiotis and
daughter Irene.
(Irene
married Con Goodelis 1956 and together they ran the Samios Café at
Kyogle until moving to Brisbane in 1961.)
(Courtesy
Pauline Wright)
|
His shop, with eight four-seater tables,
was a popular fish ‘n’ chip outlet, having a reputation for the quality
and freshness of the produce and never slipping in flake as a cheap
substitute, earning a 7* in the fast-food/takeaway category, with a
bonus point for proprietor’s convivial personality and generous
disposition. It mainly catered to the clientele from the nearby Tattersals Hotel and,
further down, Nick Kondas’s Metropole, but it also had a loyal following
from the farming families who came to town on market days, the sports fans
who swarmed up the back lane after the weekend bloodbaths at Oakes Oval,
the after-matinee crowd and the hordes of Catholic schoolkids and families
on Fridays. Whilst being on the ‘wrong’ side of Keen and missing the
passing trade it continued to attract faithful regulars from the High
School even after the appearance of the Crethar, giving Steve a steady
income through to his death in 1963. He and his family were regular
participants in Greek community life, with one daughter, Irene,
maintaining the Greek connection when she married Con Goodellis of Kyogle.
The family kept the shop running for about
6mths before passing it to Chris Macris who carried on for 18mths,
followed by an Englishman for another short period, after which the place
folded, so ending nearly 60yrs as a catering outlet.
Harry sees no competition for his own
grand venture and returns to the inside of Keen to monitor the
extraordinary transformation of the Craigmore, on the way doffing his cap
to the defunct Apollo Café at 131 Keen, the long-running
Glen Milk Bar at 125 Keen, Jack Sargent’s recently closed
Tattersalls Club at 117 Keen and the old Black and White Café
at 101 Keen.
[The lease of both the
Apollo Hall and Apollo Tea Rooms and Sundae Shop was taken
over by the great ballroom dancing impresario, Jacob H. Charleston, in
about 1927. He initially sub-let the cafe, but the first identifiable
proprietor was John Stephanos Modeas when he turned up from Bigga, near
Cowra, in 1929. He had landed as a 12yr old from Karavas in 1914 and spent
many years wandering around the Tablelands and southern NSW before
deciding to join his fellow Karaviteos in Lismore. But he only seems to
have lasted about 12mths, probably because of low profit margins when
competition came from the Glen Milkbar, a similar, albeit larger,
light refreshment outlet on the other side of the Apollo Hall entrance,
opened in late 1930. So he handed over to his shift manager Peter Nick Crethary and headed for Queanbeyan. Peter persevered for 5 minutes before
he moved down the street to take over a fruit shop and evolve it into the
Monterey.
Jacob
Charleston subsequently gave the Apollo a makeover and resumed hands-on
management, but finally closing the place towards the end of the war,
while the Glen continued trading into the 1980s. In the meantime the Hall,
along with the Federalette, was the leading Lismore dance venue until the
Riviera came along in 1936. Through the 40s to the mid 50s the Saturday
night hop crowds were huge, with these three venues dominating the scene,
some fans attending to simply listen to the great music of the house
bands. As with the post-theatre patrons, the cafes had a symbiotic
relationship with the hyped up post dance boppers, each group spilling
over into the cafes to round off the night’s experience. And all passed
away within a few years of each other. (With its well-appointed kitchen,
private rooms and other mod cons, the Apollo Hall also captured the
big function market, catering for balls, wedding breakfasts, banquets and
the like.)
Through the late 1930s the Black and White
was home to Lismore’s first bohemian café and known as the Black &
White Coffee Inn, occupying the front of Harry Nielson’s piano shop.
To the delight of the lingering coffee sippers Harry built a
semi-mezzanine floor above the front window, accessed by ladder, where
courageous jazz bands performed, notably ‘Hal and the Hotshots’.
This concept of cafes as music venues seems to have started locally with
Walter Gray when he introduced afternoon and evening musical
soirees shortly after purchase of the Elite, but ceased when the Vlismas
took over in 1929. Harry's revival of the practice seems to have come to
an end in mid 1939 when the feedlot became the main part of the business
and he installed Mrs Budd as manageress. She maintained that in this
all-Australian cafe...,
It is appropriate that the Black and White
Cafe, which is the popular rendezvous of Lismore, and which has as its
slogan, “Nothing but the Best,” should be managed and staffed by
Australians....
By Apr40 Nielson's Black and White Cafe
was offering Pie and Tea 9d,
Steak & Kidney 1/3d, Grilled Fillet 1/6d, Grilled Pork Sausages 1/6d.
Tea or Coffee included. And
2wks later going the Yankee route with
American Hot Toasted Sandwiches,
Waffles, Pies, Hamburgers....
And 3wks after that Nielson’s
Black and White Coffee Inn will open at the end of next week as an
up-to-date Cafe and Milk Bar at the same address, 101 Keen-St., next
Meaney’s Wireless.
He was also the first to introduce the term 'hamburger' to Lismore's
cafe menus.
In mid 1940 Harry moved around into Magellan and reverted to a pure musical
instrument retailer, temporarily handing management of the cafe to the Girls'
Patriotic League. In Jan41 the place boasted that
Nielson’s Black and White Cafe...,
housing
the largest Drink Bar north of Sydney, now presents
THREE COURSE MEALS... at 1/6d.
And in May41 that Lismore now
possesses a real Kings Cross HAMBURGER and Grill Room.... Grilled
Steaks, Eggs and Hamburgers are now cooked in the window of Nielsons
Black and White Cafe, in Keen Street. Hamburgers are 6d to take away or
1/- with Tea, Coffee or Cocoa....
Ten days later he boasted that Since opening the new Hamburger and
Grill window... business has jumped in leaps and bounds....
The Black and White was under the management
of Mrs E. Frawley by late 1941 when it relocated to the Woodlark Street
site of the ex-Canberra Cafe,
managed and staffed by Greeks, sharing the space with Adams Cake Shop
and offering three-course meals for 1/9d. Harry's Keen Street shop
became home to Hamilton's disposals business.
Top
The Craigmore Café
(97 Keen)
The Craigmore was
established in Sep36 by the McDonalds of Yamba when they
refurbished the Kyogle Cafe, housed in
the largest two-shop brick building in Keen. In Dec38
they carried out more extensive renovations, claiming it
is now one of the most modern in Lismore...,
and shortly afterwards as the best cafe in Lismore....
In Mar39 they sold out to the Miles family of Brisbane
who introduced take-away, with dainty cooked fish
and chips, packed in boxes, can be taken home for your
tea... and the best cooked fish in Australia.
In Jul39 they carried out more renovations, providing a
large function room and claiming It is unsurpassed
in surroundings or accommodation of services...,
while still extolling their special filleting of
fish and Swedish formula for cooking...,
and
special boxing of the cooked fish in greaseproof
cartons....
(Courtesy Northern Star
edition 22Dec38) |
|
The next major innovation occurred in May40 when
they Imported a new full size Talkie Machine... and
introduced Free Talkies... Showing every night...- 'watch
while you eat'. The only Cafe in the State catering for its
patrons in this way. In May40 came The new Craigmore Lounge...
in The All British Cafe. In Aug40 they proclaimed that
All cafe proprietors undertook to supply free meals to men who
enlisted... and From the commencement of the war, in one
cafe at least, every man in uniform receives a special concession
which is equivalent to the profit on his meal....
In Oct40 they branched out with Craigmore No
2, opened next to Carmont's Newsagency at 53 Woodlark, the
site of the recently vacated Canberra Cafe of the
Carkagis family, proclaiming that This All British Cafe is
now under the management of Mrs Miles.... Then they got into
financial trouble, J.D. Olley subsequently taking over Craigmore
No 1, but passing it to his wife upon enlistment in Jan42, at
which time the Black and White Cafe relocated to the site
of Craigmore No 2. By Sep44 the Stevens family was running
the Keen Craigmore when landlord Larkin sought a rent increase,
arguing that business conditions had improved since Oct42 when the
rent had been reduced. The judge was swayed by the Stevens argument
that Where once there were 40 or 50 Americans at the cafe for
meals, now they were lucky if there were as many as six... and
granted Larkin half the increase sought.
Anecdotally, somewhere in that 1940
period Veniamin Gialouris of Mytilini was a short-lived
proprietor/manager of the Craigmore. He was part of the immediate
pre WW2 influx and spent some time with Jimmy Corones at Quilpie
before apparently discovering Lismore, but appears to have moved to
Brisbane in 1941. He was definitely sighted on counter duty in 1945
following a holiday in New Guinea courtesy of the Australian Army. However, within a year or so he figured
The Regent a few doors down was a more attractive proposition and
passed the keys to Peter Cooley, repeating the handover/takeover ceremony
with Peter at the Regent in 1950 when he reckoned the action was now with bananas.
The Craigmore then became an Italian
possession. The partnership of Manitta & Lorenson did a subtle
reorientation, scaling back the café and introducing a range of
continental deli items, which they both retailed and wholesaled, mainly to
their deprived compatriots until their dangling sausage things on strings,
tinned sardines and anchovies in strange sauce, tomato paste, pasta,
Italian olives and olive oil, Vermouth, wine, Motta and Murano sweets…,
slowly gained a wider acceptance. And then in the mid 50s came the late,
great Florian Volpato and a touch of continental class.
Harry finds the flamboyant Florian in the
midst of renovations and is intrigued by a strange looking gizmo called an
Espresso Coffee Machine being fitted into the new counter. In
1952 the Andronicus family, Kytherian coffee merchants of Sydney, claimed
to be the
first to introduce the thing to Australia, but Florian was the first in
this region and pretty soon his entrepreneurial exuberance
seduced suspicious locals into
sampling real coffee (notwithstanding Harry Neilson’s mysterious brew), along with a
supplemented and diversified range of exotic deli items. The place, now
named ‘Florians’, was a spacious one, stretching through to Eggins
Lane, also enabling him to give the region a classy nightclub, ‘La
Gondola’, which became a popular haunt for the gay blades and their
dates into the mid 60s. And his entry into the noshery business followed
the new trend set by John Carblis at the Tudor, with ‘Continental
Meals’ now featured on the menu. (But, as with the 'continental
meals' experience, the Greeks who introduced the espresso thingamajig
quickly realised they were stuck with a white elephant that was an expensive
way to boil water to make the locals' tea.)
|
|
Flavia and Florian Volpato,
Craigmore Cafe,1956/58
(Courtesy Il Potere
Della Terra)
|
In 1958 Florian also started ‘The
Continental Hour’ on 2LM, introducing Greek as well as Italian music
to an intrigued community used to Slim Dusty and Elvis. Alas, it ceased in
1962, as did Florians by the late 60s, the undercapitalised site
eventually redeveloped as the Embassy Arcade.
Great food for thought thinks Harry, who
subsequently took over presentation of the Greek language show on 2NCR-FM.
(And still going strong - tune in on Tuesday nights and hear his dulcet
tones). But in the meantime he and Florian combined forces for the wedding
of the year in 1967 (yep, Harry’s own.) With 450 guests the City Hall,
where Harry had the catering contract, was the only possible accommodation
for this bacchanalian wedding feast, and while he did the catering himself
it was Florian’s supervision that gave it the memorable magic touch. The
new City Hall was opened in 1965 and Harry and his father won the lease
for the Kiosk, opened at least twice a week for various functions, dances,
plays and talkfests, until Harry gave the game away in 1980 along with the
Wonder Bar. (Florian however, rejoined the catering game in 1993 when he
opened Café Giardino next to the ex Church of Christ in
Keen, finally introducing the Southern European style of al fresco
dining to Lismore. The place is still going in family hands, as is the
Left Bank Café next to the art gallery.)
Unaware of the twists and turns his life
would take, Harry presses on, calling in next door to check the day’s
horse racing odds chalked up on the blackboard at the rear of Sargent’s
Markets, aka the Terakes’ fruit shop.
Sargent’s Markets
(95 Keen)
Sargents was and remained the largest
fruit shop in Lismore, its enduring success due in no small part to its
marketing strategy - they were show biz tragics and the best bunch of
spruikers in the business, including the show-off who could juggle five
assorted pieces of fruit. This part of the corporate culture was put in
place by the founder, the Cretan John Andrew Stratigakis, and over the
45yrs of the shop’s life each succeeding generation soaked up the
techniques, adding their own embellishing touches such that their spin and
spiel could convince the most sophisticated wine buff that the ordinary
bunch of grapes he was sampling tasted better than Grange Hermitage
itself. They knew everyone in town, each passing citizen being personally
addressed and exhorted to come into the shop and try the latest special
offering from God’s own fruit bowl (or check the odds for the fifth at
Flemington.)
John and his sons, Len, Nick and Jack (Zacharis),
his son-in-law, Nick Mark Terakes, from the Cretan village of Fourmi, and
his half-brother, George Andrew Stratigakis, opened the Lismore branch of
the large Brisbane-based fruit enterprise in 1931, initially in
Woodlark, then relocated to 107 Keen ~12mths later and finally to its
present site just after the war. John however, had returned to Brisbane
within a year or so, leaving Len as troupe commander until he handed the
Golden Orange to Nick Terakes in 1936 and went off to acquire an agency in
the Sydney Markets. At this time they had 3 trucks doing regular runs to
the Brisbane markets, as well as to the fruit cooperatives and individual
growers around Stanthorpe, Tenterfield and elsewhere on the Tablelands.
But by the early war years hassles over lack of manpower, (qualified
drivers and buyers having disappeared into the services), petrol rationing
and a lapsed license to operate over the border, forced the shut-down of
this side of the business. They relied on other carriers to maintain their
wholesale contracts until purchase of a brand new Bedford in the early
1950s.
By the time of Nick’s death in 1965 the
business was in the hands of his sons, John being the gaffer, and by the
time of the death of Sargents on 8Dec1978 the grandsons had been pressed
into service. Each generation had been inducted into the mysteries of
fruit retailing from a young age, but not into the military strategies of
Woolies and Coles. At the funeral service Sargents was acknowledged as
Lismore’s oldest fruit shop, the eulogists glossing over the fact that it
was also Lismore’s oldest meeting place for the racing fraternity, where
daily and serious discussion on the form of the nation’s horses took
place. (And honouring the tradition, the TAB now operates from a shop next
door.)
Sargent’s Markets,
Christmas 1965
L to R:
Alex Coronakes, Mark Terakes, Sylvia Terakes (John’s wife), Maria Sourry
(nee Terakes), John Terakes, Theo George Poulos, Katina Terakes (nee
Sargent)
(Courtesy Harry Crethar) |
The genesis of the enterprise was
Stratigakis’s 1920 purchase of an agency at the Brisbane wholesale fruit
markets, which grew to rival the Cominos (Douris) in supplying Greek shops
throughout Queensland. He was one of the six proprietors of ‘O
Angeloforos Kouinslandis,’ the first Greek newspaper published in
Queensland in 1931, the same year he handed over presidency of the Greek
Community of Queensland to Emmanuel Vlandis, late of Lismore. His daughter
Katina married Nick Terakes, his Cretan compatriot and earlier partner in a South
Brisbane café, in one of Brisbane’s grandest Orthodox weddings during
Greek Festival Week of 1921, held to mark the opening of Hellenic House.
Allegedly 600 Greeks attended the wedding, representing over half of the
Greek population of Queensland. Two other weddings were conducted that
week, including that of Theo Stavrianos Comino (Douris), earlier of
Lismore, and the baptism of Cosma Aroney, the son of Jack of Murwillumbah.
The play Golfo, directed by George Sargent, whoever he was, and performed
by members of the Hellenic Dramatic Society, amongst whom were many
familiar past and present Lismore names, was also staged.
John’s half brother, George Sargent, had
landed in 1926 and come to Lismore a little ahead of the others, ~1930/31,
perhaps as John’s location scout, but within a year or so he had been
snapped up by Paul Coronakes as a driver and buyer for his wholesale
business. Sometime later he became manager of the fruit department at
Mewing’s Grocery Store, where he was still working when he married and
went off to run his own race in Woodlark Street in 1936. George was
another of the many Greeks raised in the bustling cosmopolitan city of
Cairo, giving him linguistic skills in Greek, Italian, French, English and
Arabic.
John’s sons, Len, Nick and Jack, while
keeping their fruitering day jobs, also had secondary careers as bookies.
Len, gifted with the ability to balance a zillion numbers in his head,
subsequently had a successful career at the Sydney tracks, where he was
joined by Nick following war service and by Tony Terakes around the late
1940s. Jack aspired to club management and didn’t track the horses to
Sydney until much later. He temporarily resumed fruitering following WW2
service, but shortly afterwards opened his Lismore Club at 117
Keen, swiftly renamed Tattersalls Club after the chaps at the pukka
club around in Molesworth choked on their whiskeys. Like Spiro Coronakes,
he initially had a couple of billiard tables but quickly provided the
requisite card tables, and just as quickly could be seen driving around
town in a Big Black Nash. Rather than reopen after the disaster of the ’54
flood he elected to cross the road and manage Spiro’s place, and by the
late 50s could be seen around town on a bicycle, and by 1960 not at all.
Harry notes the importance of customer
relations, risk management and theatrics, reluctantly leaving the
unrestrained energy of the place to carry out a survey of the Regent,
another of the old Monterey-style cafes struggling to stay relevant.
The Regent Café
(81 Keen)
Mrs McNeill opened the Byron Cafe on
this site in late 1924, with the latest soda fountain and all the
accompanying mod cons. In Jul28 it was acquired by
Nick Theo Poulos/Poulas
(Hagepanagos) of Nafplia, who allegedly
owned the freehold when he passed the place to Harry Nick Crethery, unconnected to Peter Nick of the
Monterey, in Sep29. Harry, who came from Ballina
via a stint at Coraki in the mid 1920s, rebirthed the place as the
Regent Sundae Shop, handing over Harry Jim Crethar
around 1932 and going walkabout somewhere.
Harry Jim had come from Glen Innes in 1925
and initially worked for his alleged cousin, Angelo Victor Crethar, for a
couple of years until taking up a fruit shop somewhere down near the
Monterey, if not the Monterey site itself. Apparently this venture was in silent partnership with his brother
Nick, who was at
Coraki at this time. Nick moved to Evans Head when Harry took over the Regent,
but it’s understood he continued as Harry’s silent partner until he
returned to Lismore in the late 30s and acquired his own shop in Woodlark,
subsequently taking over Harry’s shop for a short period around 1945.
The Regent was a popular spot for its
captive clientele from the three pubs in the immediate vicinity (the
Metropole and Tatts across the road and the Gollan next door) who provided
a boisterous evening trade and subdued late morning breakfast trade. It
was also the favoured meeting place for the greyhound racing fans, the pan
lickers strutting their stuff around at the Coleman’s Point track a couple
of times a week. Paydays for the farm hands were particularly busy when
the high-spirited lads would come to town to visit the brothels, pubs and
gambling dens. Order eventually was restored through the appearance of a
big burley policeman who timed his free feed to the likely times the boyos
would arrive.
Regent
Café 1938
L to R: Harry John or Harry Nick Crethar, Spiro Tsicalas, Nick
Jim Crethar, Jean Brown, Ruby Green, Nellie Mules, Harry Jim Crethar |
Through the war the Regent, bigger than
the Monterey and having a bakery along with a more substantial kitchen,
also enjoyed the patronage of the foreign servicemen, at one stage the
competition for this lucrative trade being so great that Harry broke the
tacit convention and introduced a five-course meal for 2/6d, at least
until rationing and price fixing started to bite and before the vigilance
of the industrial inspectors posing as customers stepped-up.
[And for the culinary curious, reliable
witnesses (Scout’s honour) observed the strange phenomenon of American
serviceman calling for ice-cream as a sauce for their steaks. The locals
never took up the craze, but Harry covered the chance by calling it a
two-course meal.]
Nevertheless, as the war progressed
trading became more difficult as Harry, like all the highly virtuous Greek
proprietors, never thought of resorting to the black market (Mafia
honour). It’s understood he, like most others, reduced trading hours and
scaled back the range of services until Nick sold up in Woodlark to come
and give him a hand. And then came the ’45 flood to help him make a final
decision, selling out to Nick and taking up the less stressful Golden
Globe in Molesworth. Nick, a master pastry cook and envied consort of
the universally loved Florrie Panaretto, carried on for a year or so when
he too decided he needed a geographical cure and moved to Casino.
The new prince Regent, Goulouris of
Craigmore, the brother-in-law of Mick Feros of Ballina, reigned until
1950, handing the baton to his compatriot, Peter Cooley, and creating a
ripening rooms and banana merchanting enterprise at his estate at 125
Magellan, which he managed successfully until 1970 despite the industry
turndown. He was active in Greek community affairs and his was the house
where the retired Cypriot monk, Fr Kallistratos Adamou, chose to live
during his short posting in the late 60s.
Peter Cooley (Koultis of Mytilini) was a
more dedicated caterer. He had taken over one of the Andrulakis businesses
at Woodburn in the early 1930s, but was wiped out in 1936 following a fire
that consumed six buildings along the Highway strip, three of which were
owned by the Andrulakis. He continued to trade from his rebuilt shop but
was again left homeless by the ’45 cyclone, this time figuring there was a
jinx on Woodburn and coming to Lismore. Around the same time he was joined
by his brother James, fresh from a stint of banana growing at Rosebank
with his compatriot, Stratis Karambasis, who went to Nick Crethar’s
Woodlark cafe.
By the time ‘young Harry’ called in Peter
had stopped trembling from the ’54 cyclone, but the place was still locked
into serving giant T-bones overhanging the plate and seriously in need of
an upgrade. In the absence of a bar, sit down cups of tea with toast
remained the go rather than milkshakes and chicko rolls, and while the
menu evolved, substantial meals and takeaway fish ‘n’ chips were still the
speciality into the early 1960s when he, like similar proprietors, decided
he’d had enough of trying to compete with the clubs. Unable to sell the
business as a going concern he flogged everything in a giant auction and
moved to Sydney, the building subsequently becoming home to a bits ‘n’
pieces shop.
Diagonally across the road Harry
notes that a barber shop still occupies the site of The
Australia Cafe (96 Keen), which once upon a time enjoyed the distinction of
being the most modern cafe in town. In April 1935 Nick John Casimatis made
the courageous decision to create a new purpose-built cafe for Lismore's
discerning diners, but, alas, they never turned up and he found himself
in trouble very quickly (including the paying of under-award wages to
the above Ruby Green). And being on the outside of the block, missed the
passing trade, although picking up the drinker's trade from the
Metropole Hotel across the lane, especially when in desperation he
dropped the price of his three-course meal to 1/3d. He lasted
14mths and at a bankruptcy hearing in
late 1937 his lawyer argued
that Cassimatis was a foreigner
and did not understand book keeping..., at which point Justice
Lukin interjected Foreigners. Foreigners! That cry has been raised
too often in this court. Foreigners must not expect better treatment
than other people..., and awarded him 4mths hard labour.
He is probably the same Nick
John Cassimatis who landed in 1914, aged 18yrs, and was bankrupted
twice in the early Depression years. He initially was in silent
partnership with the mysterious Nick Chamias (probably Chambiras)
and Haris Raftus (probably Raftos/Raftopoulos), but they
disappeared into the woodwork very quickly. His shop, housing a
large reception room, was occupied by Bavea's Catering Parlour
for about 8mths or so from late 1936. Above the shop lived Harry Jim Crethar,
allegedly the later building owner.
‘Young Harry’ now crosses Larkin Lane
and passes the old Panaretto shop under the Gollan Hotel, now trading
‘Under Royal Patronage’ following the Queen’s stay in 1954. [In 1930
Denny Panaretto took up where Athena Andrulakis left off and became a
major retailer/wholesaler of seafood, as well as offering his sit
down/takeaway fish ‘n’ chips. He reoriented as Panaretto’s Fish Market
and advertised LA ‘BELLE OYSTERS… Try our delicious Fresh “Brunswick”
Oysters… at 2/3d per large bottle… Choice Fresh fish at 9d per lb… We
specialise in Fried and Smoked Fish….
(And being an opportunistic marketer, stuck up a sign reading ‘Fresh
Fish every morning’, while his shop was still half-full of water after
the record flood of Feb31.)] |
|
Panaretto's Fish Market 1931 |
Harry proceeds past the Gollan, comes
to the intersection of Keen/Woodlark and crosses Woodlark Street to
view the relatively new Notaras shops on the northern side of the
Commercial hotel.
Notaras Building
(Woodlark/Keen)
The Notaras name reappeared in Lismore
in 1934 when Anthony and John Lambrinos Notaras of
Grafton acquired the old Star Court Theatre site in Woodlark, next to the
Commercial
Hotel on the Woodlark/Keen corner. They also purchased a vacant 80ft
frontage lot around in Keen, giving them a
dog-leg block completely surrounding the Commercial.
The ‘new’
Star Court
in Molesworth Street had been built in 1920 and the old one, an open air
affair, had long since been converted into four shop fronts, with a
convenient 66ft frontage, which the Notaras Bros acquired under one
title. Just down the street near the Bennett & Woods Building was the old
‘Diggers Theatre’, established after WW1 and badly in need of
updating, which they saw as no competition to their proposed new
enterprise. However, the owner, Dorgan, in some sleigh-of-hand trick, beat
them to the punch and had his plans approved for the ‘Vogue Theatre’
before they could get their act together. [The galloping Dorgan, who
became lessee of the Notaras Bros ‘Saraton Theatre’ in Grafton in
late 1929, remained one foot in front and tied up all the major sites in
the larger Richmond towns before the Notaras could get a look in. In
1930 he had put the skids under Sam Coroneo’s ‘Federalette Theatre’
by opening Lismore’s fourth cinema outlet, ‘The Palace Theatre’,
then had the chutzpah to offload the Palace and purchase the
Federalette. And in 1933 he added to his picture portfolio by acquiring
the Regent Theatre of Koukoulis & Andronicos in Murwillumbah.]
|
|
Parade Lismore 1945
(Grafton contingent led by Greeks)
Right to Left: Unknown with wreath (but reckoned to be Angelo
Crethar), Jack Paul Moulos, Theo Lambrinos
Notaras, John Lambrinos Notaras,
Peter Arthur Bernard (Venardos), Nick Langley (Anastasopoulos),
Anthony Lambrinos Notaras.
(Courtesy Brinos Notaras) |
Dorgan sat on his Development Approval
until 1935 when he finally got around to building the Vogue in Molesworth
Street. Anthony and John continued to hold their land in joint ownership,
with various Greek enterprises occupying their shops over a long period.
In the meantime the old theatre site behind the shops became an open-air
boxing stadium, featuring tournaments two to three times a week.
They sold their larger site in 1950
following a major fire, but as a goodwill gesture to one of their tenants,
George Macris, built two new shops on the Keen land. Fifty four years
later the shops were demolished by the new owner, the entrepreneurial
prince of pubs, Peter Coronakes, and the site incorporated into
his Commercial extensions.
[At the same time Peter gave his
Commercial a facelift and a new name, Mary
Gilhooleys, where he, in
leprechaun hat, could be seen
pulling heady green
beer on Saint Pat’s day. (Marketing flair runs in the family.)]
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The Blue Bird Café
(43 Keen)
George Macris landed from the
Turkish island of Imbros in 1938 and came to town after a couple of years spent at Bonalbo and Casino working off his sponsorship debt. In
Lismore he worked for the Cretan, Tony Lakis, in the Stanthorpe
Fruit Exchange on the Woodlark side of the Commercial Hotel building, buying the business in the mid war years but
on-passing it to the Italian Mario Gasperini in 1946. This shop started
life as the temporary site of
the first Sargent's Markets in the early Depression years. It appeared shortly before the Willow Tea Rooms
opened next door with the gimmick of a free lending library, but over
the following years the two shops seemed to have merged and separated a
couple of times. By May40 the Willow was under the management of Mrs Vasiliki Carkagis,
late of "Northern Star" and "Canberra" Cafes,
but disappearing from the scene a few months later. It was resurrected
as the scaled-back Blue Bird Cafe in the Notaras Building by
George Macris after he'd returned to Woodlark following a short stint as
a cook in the Capitol Cafe. He took a bit of trade from the
Stanthorpe, which had installed a milk bar in the meantime, firing up the voluble Mario
and giving the Lismore citizens great street entertainment,
particularly when George deployed his Turkish language skills in ‘no spica di lingo’ tactics.
The Blue Bird was almost a
‘hole-in-the-wall’ hamburger joint, catering to the boxing aficionados
through a flap opening onto the street until a mysterious fire burnt out
George and an adjacent shop. Thanks to the Notaras he was able
to move around the corner to take up residence in his posh new shop, where
the anchor of the business became fish ‘n’ chips, which the pugilist
enthusiasts could now consume at five six-seater booths. And thanks to
the fear of eternal damnation he did a roaring trade from the Catholic
schools on Fridays.
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George traded through to 1974, retiring
to Sydney three weeks before the flood that matched the monster of ’54,
leaving the old Blue Bird to slowly go down market and morph into a
‘corner store’ as it became isolated through developments around that
portion of Keen and changed circumstances around the CBD.
Macris
Family 1951 Lismore
L to R: Anna (nee Haymandos), baby Chris, George and Con. (Anna and Con
landed in 1949 after a 11yr separation.)
(Courtesy Chris Macris)
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Harry now does an about face and retraces
his steps back to the corner, crosses the road and resumes his walkabout
along the inside of Woodlark, once the home to a host of Greek
enterprises, including all the original pioneers pre WW1, but now in
reduced circumstances.
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