The fall and rise of the Kenmore

Demolished in the wake of the Cold Storage fire, the Kenmore Diner is back on Worcester's night beat

By Juile Kelly

It's last call. The bartender quips, "You don't have to go home but you can't stay here." So where do you go? For the past decade, your next stop was a no-brainer: breakfast at the Kenmore Diner on Franklin Street.

Eggs at the Kenmore after a night out was a local ritual that came to a crashing halt on Sunday, December 12, 1999 when the diner was destroyed during the demolition of the adjacent Worcester Cold Storage building, thus becoming an incidental casualty of the fire that claimed the lives of six Worcester firefighters not two weeks earlier. This month, after a year of rebuilding, the Kenmore re-opened.

Reminiscing over coffee and a pack of Marlboro Lights, 30-year-old George Yantsides, who has run the Kenmore with his father, Jimmy, for more than 10 years, displays a confidence that hangs in the air like his cigarette smoke. No topic is dearer to his heart than the original Kenmore. "Since I was a baby, the Kenmore was my playground. I remember sleeping on the back counter, covered with an apron. I used to play in the parking lot with my apron on, and it would come down to my ankles."

George Yantsides never aspired to do anything but run a late-night eatery, and on a given night, he wears many hats --"the cook/owner/bouncer/dishwasher -- you name it," he says. "When I graduated from high school my, father said he would pay my tuition to go to college somewhere or I could become partners with him in the diner." For Yantsides, the choice was easy. "I love nights. I'm a social person. I was meant to run a late-night business."

The Yantsides family has operated the Kenmore since 1973. At first, the hours of operation were from 5:30 a.m. until 6 p.m. But in 1989, the Kenmore switched to late-night, opening at 11 p.m. and closing at noon, because the younger Yantsides, who had taken to hanging out with his friends in the Kenmore after hours, was stuck by the number of would-be customers he had to turn away after closing.

"I brought the idea up to my father about opening nights, because at the time, the majority of our business came from Worcester Cold Storage -- which had about 400 employees or so. When they left, the day business kind of dropped a lot, so we decided to give nights a try. It was real slow for the first six to eight months, but then it just caught on."

And it caught on in a big way. George Yantsides says he has seen it all from behind the grill after dark. His father agrees: "Nights are more wild." For example, George recalls, there was the "gorilla incident."

"It was Halloween night, 1998," he says. "It was a Wednesday, I remember -- windy as hell out. We were packed, I mean you could not move in the place, and all of a sudden this guy walked in with half of a gorilla suit on. When the door opened behind him, the bottom of the costume flew up and he was bare assed. I was laughing so hard I couldn't be mean to him so I said, `Just get out of here,' and he looked at me and said, `What -- I can't eat?' "

After the destruction of the original Kenmore, starting any other kind of business was out of the question. "I've been in the diner business 27 years" says the elder Yantsides. "It had to be a diner, not any other kind of restaurant but a diner." George agrees, "It's hard to explain, but it was `the Kenmore' -- it was a fixture in the city.

"I don't know how anybody else feels, but I know that I just feel comfortable in a diner. It's a small place. It's a gathering place to see people. And the food -- of course. Home cooking. Nothing frozen. Nothing frozen but the ice."

The new Kenmore was designed by the Yantsides and built by local contractors. It doesn't have its predecessor's shiny steel exterior -- just simple gray siding with maroon trim. Nine large square windows line the front, showcasing the 11 pristine booths inside, their seats lined with glittering red upholstery. Seven matching stools line the counter. Indirect lighting softens the interior, while a red-and-blue neon clock glows from the center of the room.

The Kenmore Diner officially re-opened for business at 5 a.m. on January 8. Despite the early hour, well-wishers and returning regulars were on hand for the christening. One loyal patron, Brion Deffely, drove 40 miles from Westfield to claim an opening-day spot at the new marble counter. Deffely claims he lost 34 pounds in three months after the original Kenmore closed. "On New Years Day, 2000, I weighed 212 pounds, and by St. Patrick's Day I weighed 178 pounds -- had to get all my clothes taken in," he remembers.

As Frank Sinatra plays in the background, the waitresses refill cups of coffee from full steaming pots and yell breakfast orders over the counter to George Yantsides and his father at the grill. For a brief moment, it's as if the Kenmore never closed, but the collages on the wall -- one of construction photos and one of the past year's news stories about the Kenmore -- bring you back to reality.

George Yantsides, for one seems weary of rehearsing the details of what he now refers to as the "accident." The destruction of the diner, he says, was "devastating," and neither he nor his father want to dwell on the past year's hardships.

"I told my father, `We need to put [the demolition] behind us, and maybe God will bless us and help us out.'"

One establishment more than willing to help out has been the Dive Bar, at 34 Green Street, which threw two fundraisers for the Kenmore. The first, held a week after the demolition netted about $5000, which was distributed in $1000 chunks to the wait staff. Last month, a second fundraiser took in $3000 toward construction costs. "That $3000 paid for the tiled floor," Yantsides remembers.

"The Dive has been good to us since day one -- my father and I do not know how to thank these people. Honestly. Everyone who worked there helped us out when they did not have to."

Dive owner Paul Durkee says he would do it again in a second. "Shortly after the fire, so much attention was given to the firefighters, and rightly so," he says. But we just felt that the Kenmore needed some help too." A longtime Kenmore patron , Durkee hints at ulterior motives for helping to resurrect what he calls the best place in the city for late-night eats. He missed his favorite meal: "A cheese omelet and a cup of coffee -- really good."

The new Kenmore features an expanded menu, with added items such as kielbasa, corned-beef hash, and blueberry pancakes, and weekday lunch hours extended until 3 p.m. (Weekend hours are the traditional 11 p.m. to 12:30 p.m.)

As father and son welcome back their customers on opening day, their excitement is evident. Yantsides roams around the diner, laughing with patrons, making sure they are happy with their meals. His father hangs back behind the counter, smiling and taking it all in.

Asked how the elder Yantsides likes being partners with his son, he looks baffled. "He's my son," he says with an incredulous note in his accented voice, "I'm proud of him."

"That's the first time I've heard that in 30 years!" George Yantsides cries in mock-surprise, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

Chris Wright can be reached at cwright@phx.com.