Smallest State, Best Plates
Returning to Rhode Island
By Holly Richards1
When I tell people I’m from Rhode Island, they immediately think New York, most likely Long Island. No, it’s neither a road NOR an island. I usually contextualize with, “It’s the smallest state. You can go north to south in an hour. There are about a million inhabitants.” This is frequently followed by the question, “So, does everyone in Rhode Island know each other?” No, hun, but I probably know their cousin, or my mom taught them culinary arts in high school, or my Uncle Mike was their private Catholic high school football coach.
I’m at the point in my life where I’ve resided outside Rhode Island for longer than I lived in it. Right now, I’m in Washington, DC with my husband and almost three-year-old son. When I run into other Rhode Islanders here, it’s easy to connect. It’s not just that somewhere between “Bah-stahn” and “New Juh-zee” accent that instantly charms. The connection feels so natural because a Rhode Islander will treat a stranger like family - you will be immediately welcomed, well-fed, and likely teased at some point.
You think you know Rhode Island, yet there’s always something new to discover. A fact that’s surprising to anyone who’s only seen America’s smallest state on a map (if they have perfect vision) but not to Rhode Islanders, keepers of New England’s greatest secret. My husband, Matt, is from Connecticut, the neighboring state to the west that, for all its charms and proximity to NYC, falls short where lil’ Rhody excels: Food culture.
Nearly every August since 2014, Matt and I have made the pilgrimage to our motherlands in the northeast. I get to see his eyes twinkle, hear his stomach gurgle and witness his tongue begin to salivate every time he thinks about Rhode Island. These summer trips guarantee an abundance of hyper-local seafood and the signature snap of a Saugy.
Matt likes to evangelize lil’ Rhody’s food culture, recounting tales of New York System “wein-uhs”, party pizza, stuffies, clam cakes, calamari and coffee milk. He loves to repeat, “It’s a drink!” after seeing the sign for Newport Creamery’s signature Awful Awful. “It’s awful good.”
Thankfully, this year’s visit included a culinary tour in Providence with our friends Kerri and Tim, who always make time during these whirlwind family trips to shepherd us through the latest tastes of the Ocean State. Kerri and I famously shelved the books at Barnes and Noble store #2082 more than twenty years ago and have the kind of friendship that consists of witty postcards, infrequent texts and instant connection the minute we see each other.
Our destination was Federal Hill, the beloved “Little Italy” of Providence, home to New England’s mid-20th century mafia boss, and covered in sumptuous Italian-American fare like Venda Ravioli, the original Siena restaurant (RIP) and Caserta Pizza. When it comes to food, Federal Hill boasts more than one culinary tradition, and we were in luck because Tim was wrapping his duties as guest judge for the First Annual Rhode Worthy Cup, a competition celebrating RI’s contribution to “beverage excellence.”
We started our tour at the Origin Brewery Project, owned and operated by Tim’s longtime friend. The beer was crisp, cloudy and familiar, like an early summer day on Block Island. As the beer flowed, so did the conversation and after a while, Kerri noted that Tricycle, makers of some incomparable ice cream sandwiches, would be closing shortly.
Dessert before dinner is a noble cause, but wasn’t the mood we were in that night. We couldn’t risk missing out on those decadent melty treats, so we took a gamble on The Slow Rhode to help make our after-dinner dreams come true. We didn’t want to waste 15 minutes for Kerri to drive round trip to the next town (reminder this is the smallest state) to put the ice cream sandwiches in the freezer. When we asked the host about putting dessert that we purchased somewhere else in their freezer, not only did he open his hand before his mouth, but his tone and words that I can’t remember now were, “yeah, of cawse.”
The laughs blended perfectly with the small plates we shared at the seasonal table: some watermelon feta salad, glorious homemade hummus with just the right amount of spice, duck drummettes, a burger, and an amaro to digest because we needed room for one last course.
The Cookie Compost ice cream sandwich with its dirt-like cookie crumble and chunks of raw dough was decadence in my hand. We ate on the sidewalk - the way you’re supposed to on a hot summer evening. The sun had just set and the street lights gave off a dull yellow glow, while the ice cream began to melt down our fingers. Suddenly I was ten years old, licking at the sticky sweetness after a thrilling game of manhunt. The experience was Proustian.
With full hearts and overstretched waistbands, we hugged our friends and thanked them for knowing us so well and introducing us to a whole new RI culinary experience. Nourishing sea salt air blowing through our hair, we got in our car and headed back for one last Ocean State slumber with another beautiful memory we hoped could get us through election-year anxiety in DC.
We turned on the radio as “Good Luck, Babe” finished playing and a charming Rhode Island accent came over the waves inviting us to WaterFire in Providence on Saturday night. Next year.
Name drops: Origin Brewery Project, The Slow Rhode, Tricycle
A special thank you to this week’s illustrator, Sophie Foulkes2. See her work here.
Holly Richards is a curious connecter who enjoys discovering ideas, building networks and envisioning a future filled with collaboration. Her career so far has involved sustaining and developing international institutions through these talents under the headings of communication and public affairs. She’s a proud Rhode Islander who has also resided in Paris, France and is currently in Washington, DC. She is passionate about creation and likes to spend her time cooking, gardening, listening to people wax poetic and laughing with her husband and child.
Sophie Foulkes is an artist, designer, and illustrator from Western Massachusetts who graduated from RISD with a BFA in Illustration. She enjoys creating fantastical imagery by experimenting with eccentric colors and textures. Her work is narrative and playful and is often inspired by personal experiences combined with natural phenomena. Sophie’s work strives to capture the emotions and excitement of a moment in order to share with others.