George Georgopoulos says he’ll miss the woman, a regular customer at Veano’s Italian Kitchen II, who for years insisted that her eggplant sub be served unassembled.
She wanted the eggplant separate from the vegetable sauce. She wanted the cheese and bare sub roll to have their own spaces on the plate as well, allowing her to eat the eggplant with a fork and knife and dip the bread into the vegetable sauce.
He’ll also miss his staff members at Veano’s II, who worked with him for 40 years, and the place-where-everyone-knows-your-name climate, and the couple who created a pair of photo-packed collages of family, friends and clientele. All of whom have been profoundly affected by the restaurant’s final day of business last Saturday after a nine-year run.
“These are more than just customers,” Georgopoulos said recently. “Last week, I had people coming in here in tears every day. People were crying. People I’d seen for 10 years, three or four times per week. Without all these regular people, I would not have made it.”
The plaza is a sad place these days. Veano’s II and two other businesses — Seams to Fit and a martial arts studio — in the little strip mall on Manchester Street have already closed due to the inevitable development of commercial businesses and homes at their 30 Manchester Street location.
The redevelopment of the property has been in the works for three years, since the Concord City Council approved changing the zoning of the site from Open Space Residential to a Gateway Performance district.
The mixed-use development on a 22-acre parcel along the Merrimack River would be the largest such plan in Concord history and would allow the housing units to join the commercial buildings in a single community.
The ROI Irrevocable Family Trust still owns the property, and that includes the land behind the plaza, once home to a drive-in theater about 40 years ago.
The Trust will pay for basic infrastructure, things like sidewalks and private roads, and remain on as the master builder. A planned sandwich shop and convenience store would pay rent to the Trust, while the land for other projects, such as the housing units and offices, would be sold.
A traffic study is currently under review, and that plan could be presented to the Concord Planning Board by June, said attorney Ari Pollack, who represents the Trust.
“This is an exciting opportunity,” Pollack said by phone. “The market is strong and the property is long overdue for redevelopment. This is an opportunity where we can get it done in a short time frame.”
Only Johnson’s Performance, a car parts dealership, remains open. Like the other merchants there, Johnson’s lease was terminated last year, something these local business owners knew was coming eventually.
The owner of Johnson’s, Greg LaRosa, said he needs to be out by the end of August. Like Georgopoulos, he has no idea where he’s going, and like Veano’s II, his business was well established for decades.
For Veano’s II, their closed, locked doors and dark interior symbolize a deep loss to its loyal fan base.
“I wasn’t happy,” Georgopoulos said, referring to the eviction notice he received a year ago. “I’ve been here working for a long time, I have regular clients, people I see here. Some come in twice a day, for breakfast and lunch, and most people I know by name because I see them so much.”
Georgopoulos, a wisp of a man, spoke during a break from cleaning his restaurant, putting stuff into storage and apologizing to his guest that someone had recently removed the coffee machine and he had none to offer.
He sat at a table wearing a Bruins hat, jeans and a Veano’s T-shirt. His sons – Nasi and Spiro – worked and cleaned in the kitchen. His Greek accent was obvious, but his English was clear.
The good-bye cake unveiled last Saturday, 75 percent eaten, lay on a long table, covered by a clear plastic top. There were dozens of plastic ketchup containers and dozens of salt and pepper shakers, grouped together, their jobs at this particular establishment over.
“I’ve been doing this since I was 2 years old,” Georgopoulos said. “This is all I know. I love what I do.”
Georgopoulos immigrated to New Hampshire from Greece in 1981. He was 14 and spoke no English. He worked for his father and uncles, who had opened Veano’s Italian Kitchen seven years earlier on Loudon Road.
He split from the family business and opened Veano’s II, at its present location, in 2013. He brought four female staff members with him. Employees who were teens at the old place, as was Georgopoulos. They essentially grew up together.
“We were competing with the other Veano’s (now on the edge of Pembroke) when we first opened,” Georgopoulos said. “Nobody is coming in the door. The girls say, ‘George, you gotta do something.’ I said give it time.”
Now 56, Georgopoulos has a lot on his plate. He needs a new location, if he chooses to continue working after taking six months off. Plus, his wife is sick. “Not good,” he said.
Like the other merchants in the strip, Georgopoulos knew that his lease was temporary and that one day he would be forced to leave. He got his eviction notice last year on May 4, exactly one year before his deadline to exit the property.
And while he closed with three weeks to spare to save money on rent, Tambra Tijerina, owner of Seams to Fit, bolted two years ago and reopened at 155 Manchester St.
“We knew 21 years ago when we moved in and when we got that lease that he was trying to sell the land behind us,” Tijerina said. “I did not know how long it would last, and 21 years is pretty good.”
Meanwhile, LaRosa said he needs to be out by the end of August. Like Georgopoulos, he has no idea where he’s going, and like Veano’s II, his business’s connection to the community was well established for decades.
He’s owned Johnson’s for 36 years, 22 of them in the little mall. He says his customers are worried.
“A lot of them are like, ‘We can’t get this stuff anywhere else, where can we go?’ ” LaRosa said.
He says rents are high, making it difficult for him to find a new place. “I just wanted to keep going,” LaRosa said. “I found out I would have to move for sure last September. Before that, the possibility was always there.”
Georgopoulos knew that this cold, hard fact could surface at any time. He knew he would get advanced notice, but when his eviction letter arrived, Georgopoulos was unprepared emotionally.
“The lease agreement was that if they sold the plaza, he had the right to terminate my lease,” Gerogopoulos said. “At the time I wanted to open in Concord because that is where people knew me.”
Then he added, “Should I have signed it? Probably not.”
But he did. He’s taking six months off to rest from his 90-hour work weeks and care for his wife. He’s confident his base will remain loyal, if in fact he opens somewhere else.
“A lot of customers here became like family,” his son, Nasi, said. “That’s the only thing you have over the big chains, the personal experience, and you know you’re not going to meet the president of Olive Garden.”
You’d meet Georgopoulos. That was his schtick, his trademark, moving around the dining room, an ambassador chatting with his friends. He cooked, cleaned and cared, enough to save his final piece of eggplant, anticipating that his finicky friend would visit one last time.
She did. Her sub was separated. Like always.
“If I can go on the other side of Concord,” Georgopoulos said, “I have no doubt in my mind that all those people who supported me all those years, they will come where ever I go. I’ll bet my life on it.”