[Congressional Record Volume 146, Number 121 (Tuesday, October 3, 2000)]
[Senate]
[Pages S9693-S9694]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                    WATERBURY CENTER'S VILLA TRAGARA

 Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, one of the joys in living in a State 
as small as Vermont is that you get to know where all the treasures 
are. One such treasure is Villa Tragara in Waterbury Center. My family 
and I have gone there for so many years and have become friends of Tish 
and Tony DiRuocco. When my mother was alive, she knew that she could 
call Tony when the Italians won soccer matches and have someone she 
could speak with in her native tongue, while they both toasted Italy's 
victory.
  Recently Debbie Salomon, Vermont's foremost chronicler of epicurean 
delights, wrote about the DiRuocco's Restaurant and I ask that the 
article from the Free Press be printed in the Record at this 
point.
  The article follows:

            [From the Burlington Free Press, Sept. 12, 2000]

    Strong Marriage Is Secret Ingredient to Villa Tragara's Success

                          (By Debbie Salomon)

       Behind every great restaurant chef/owner stands a spouse. 
     If the spouse is a woman, chances are she'll put on a nice 
     outfit, slap on some makeup and stand in front taking 
     reservations, dispatching servers, running credit cards, 
     remembering names, smoothing ruffled feathers and smiling, 
     smiling, smiling through aching feet, a throbbing head and 
     sore back.
       That's if the baby sitter shows up.
       That's Tish DiRuocco. Tish and Tony DiRuoccco, owners of 
     Villa Tragara in Waterbury Center, are old-timers in an 
     industry where almost 75 percent of newcomers fail the first 
     year. Villa Tragara recently celebrated its 20th anniversary; 
     in June, Tony was named Restaurateur of the Year by Vermont 
     Lodging & Restaurant Association.
       Should have been ``Restaurateurs . . .''
       ``Did you see (the Stanley Tucci film) `Big Night?' Tish 
     asks. ``Tony's like the chef and the brother is me.''
       ``They are a very strong family, a wonderful team,'' says 
     Joan Simmons of Craftsbury, a 20-year devotee, who celebrates 
     most family occasions at Villa Tragara, including her 
     mother's 90th birthday.
       Simmons describes their entrance: ``You would have though 
     Queen Victoria was arriving.''
       I thought of Tish as I watched Hadassah Lieberman's rave at 
     the Democratic National Convention. The motto of these 
     strong-willed spouse-partners seems to be Stand By Your Man 
     and Help!
       Perhaps Tish and Tony cling so tenaciously to each other 
     and their business because getting there wasn't half the fun.
       They met when 19-year-old Tish, a Montrealer, lived with a 
     family in Switzerland to improve her French. The small Swiss 
     town had only one nightspot. Tony--born and educated in 
     Capri, Italy--was the showy bartender.
       ``He threw bottles into the air and caught them.'' Tish 
     recalls, still misty-eyed at 48. ``I had no money but he made 
     me the perfect drink at the perfect price.
       They fell in love. Tony followed her back to Montreal. They 
     married in 1976.
       Tish's family had a ski house in Vermont. Her dream was to 
     live here, despite Tony's growing success in cosmopolitan 
     Montreal. They scoped out the Italian restaurant scene in the 
     Stowe vicinity and decided a market existed for Tony's 
     painstakingly elegant (pasta, bread, desserts made in-house) 
     Northern Italian preparations. They found a charming 1820 
     farmhouse on Vermont 100 in Waterbury Center, which became 
     the restaurant. Tish's parents helped financially, but the 
     complications of non-citizens opening a business in the 
     United States would fill the phone book.

[[Page S9694]]

       ``We were young and naive,'' Tish admits.
       Add ``fanatically hard-working'' The charming location 
     proved less than ideal, since vacationers driving north to 
     Stowe didn't want to drive back for dinner.
       ``We had to be creative the first 10 years, until word-of-
     mouth got around, ``Tony says.
       Finally, the Stowe Montrealers who had adored Tony's 
     cuisine at home rediscovered him and oh, did he cater to 
     their tastes. ``They want it special, not off the menu,'' he 
     says.
       ``Tony's so intent on pleasing that he's flexible to a 
     fault,'' Tish adds.
       But bumps along the way, including an exhausting foray into 
     retail refrigerated pasta that Tish delivered to gourmet 
     shops between caring for two children and running Villa 
     Tragara, might have derailed a less-committed couple. The 
     Stowe restaurant scene was exploding with competition. 
     Attitudes toward food were changing. ``We were a sinking 
     ship but we were going down fighting,'' Tish admits. Once, 
     things got so bad they closed the door and fled to 
     Martha's Vineyard for a week.
       Tony was forced to make changes, to lighten sauces with 
     vegetable purees, to initiate cabarets, dinner theater, jazz, 
     a moderately priced tapas menu and early-bird discounts. 
     Redecoration turned the farmhouse--particularly the mountain-
     view solarium--into a lively, informal trattoria. Herbs grow 
     along the path to the front door; zucchini clog the compost-
     enriched garden plot out back.
       And, somehow, their marriage has not only survived, but 
     flourished. How? ``We drop the restaurant when we go home,'' 
     Tish says. ``If we have an argument, it keeps until the next 
     day.''
       Watching them you fee the connection. ``She is my partner, 
     120 percent,'' Tony affirms, touching Tish's shoulder. They 
     have led student tours to Italy. They provide food for 
     Odysesy of the Mind and March of Dimes events. On Christmas, 
     Tony contributes lasagna (of all things) to a Christmas 
     dinner at a Waterbury church and donates food to a retirement 
     home.
       No wonder, in March of 1999, Tony was one of 59 
     restaurateurs worldwide (nine in the U.S.) to receive the 
     Insegna Del Ristornate Italiano, which honors chiefs who 
     leave Italy but ``keep the good name alive.''
       The award was presented by Italian president Oscar 
     Scalfaro. The Pope recognized the honorees during a public 
     audience.
       Simmons was happy but not surprised at the recognition. 
     ``When you walk in that door you feel special. Tony and Tish 
     are genuinely glad to have your business,'' she says. The 
     Simmonses drive almost an hour once a month to eat at Villa 
     Tragara. ``I'm a schoolteacher, not a rich woman, but we 
     would rather eat at a place we know is good.''
       Because, Simmons concludes, ``Anything else is going out to 
     get some food. This is going out to dinner.''
       What a nice story.

                          ____________________