Tearful goodbye for the S&S Cafeteria

By Larry Bly
ROANOKE.COM COLUMNIST

Like so many others, I was stunned though not totally surprised at the recent closing of the S&S Cafeteria at Towers shopping center. I first became suspicious when their reader board kept assuring us that they weren't closing. Ever heard the Bard's famous words, "Methinks thou dost protest too much?"

When I got out of the army long ago, I promised myself that I would never stand in line for food again. But alas, I'm a product of the times -- and my generation grew up waiting in lines for food: welfare lines, school lunch lines, church social lines and yes, even cafeteria lines! There was something about looking down that long row of people at the S&S standing in front of steaming, delicious, fattening foods! The anticipation was usually better than the food itself, though it could be mighty tasty sometimes.

Cafeterias are Southern icons. Most of the remaining cafeteria companies are headquartered in the South; few, if any, to the north. We Southerners like food that sticks to the ribs and sticks to the pans. At least we used to. And so the last remaining cafeteria chains are just barely hanging on.

There are a lot of reasons: Eating habits have changed; the proliferation of fast-food options; America's fascination with "gourmet" foods; and too many hip replacements. Yes, our generation has stood for a lot, but it can't stand nearly as long as it used to. We're getting older and the younger folks aren't embracing the concept of cafeteria food, probably because it's just not very exciting to them. Still, cafeterias deliver a lot of food for the buck.

Cafeterias have tried to update their food as of late, in order to get away from some of the bland and predictable items. Ethnic items, like Mexican cornbread (which of course, no respectable Mexican in his right mind would eat), and even Cuban-inspired dishes (I had one recently at the K&W in Tanglewood Mall) are becoming more common.

I must admit that I enjoyed heading over to the S&S for some comfort food. I particularly loved their chicken pan pie and their baked spaghetti. I enjoyed watching the older ladies in their hair nets imploring you to let them help with the dessert, meat and bread. And I loved to banter with other diners while standing in line. No problems of the world got solved, but people just seem friendlier when talking on an empty stomach. Maybe the U.N. should try this approach.

The S&S Cafeteria didn't fall without a fight. They tried discounts to seniors (Heck, we were all seniors -- big deal) and they even brought jugglers and midgets in on Thursdays to entertain the younger folks. (OK, so I made up the midget part. But they did try all sorts of promotions that didn't succeed.) To attract families, S&S began offering 99-cent meals
for kids some days and nights. But they stayed away in droves.

Trying to attract families and young folks is nothing new to the cafeteria business. It's been going on for decades. My old friend, Jan Wilkins, tells me that when he was young, the S&W Cafeteria downtown was located where Davidson's is today. There were two floors of cafeteria space. In an attempt to get families to dine there, they actually offered on "family nights," a free movie! At a designated time, some poor S&W employee would wheel out the Bell & Howell Projector, and show a full-length motion picture. Hopefully, it was never the "10 Commandments" or "Gone with the Wind" or some other three-hour epic.

This movie promotion must have worked, as the S&W quickly outgrew its space in the current Davidson's building and moved up the street to swanky new digs in the former Greyhound Bus Terminal, which had moved into a new place down on Bullitt Avenue in the middle of Elmwood Park. The new two-story S&W Cafeteria featured art deco appointments (many of them are still there to this day) and breakfast made-to-order for the early downtown crowd. It closed in the '70s, as I recall. My recent attempts to find an S&W Cafeteria on the Internet proved futile. They're as cold as yesterday's pan of gray liver.

The former Church Avenue S&W is now the Downtown Sports Club. I belong to this club, and I often found myself straining and grunting to work off the poundage that I put on while eating the high-calorie foods served by S&W that used to be located in this very building. How's that for irony?

K&W is the lone survivor now, with three locations here in the Valley. They're doing fine, and hopefully they'll pick up some of the old S&S crowd as well. As a cafeteria-lover, I wish them well. I'd go congratulate them, but I'm just not in the mood to stand in line today.

Bly for now!