Newberry’s was a five-and-dime that had three locations in Portland: Lloyd Center (now a Dollar Tree), downtown (now a Ross Dress-for-Less) and at the ghost in the shell, Eastport Plaza (the mall has been razed and turned into a movie theater, Jo-Ann Fabrics & Crafts and Walmart, surrounded by mini-mall satellite stores and fast food joints).
Newberry’s was the source of most of the birthday and Christmas presents that I received as a kid, and all the ones I bought for my family with my bottle-and-can savings. My mom would drag us there to do her shopping, park me and my brother in a cartoon booth in the store basement to watch a Heckle and Jeckle Terrytoon, put in a quarter, and walk away (we’d amble after her when the cartoon was finished, getting distracted in the toy aisle on the way).
I remember the wan pallor of the flickering fluorescent lights, the hum of the escalator ride down to the store’s basement floor where I used to loiter in the pet department, wishing for a kitten. When I was very little, my mother had been wrongly accused of passing a counterfeit bill at a Newberry’s, and had successfully sued the company in small claims court for the humiliation of being arrested in the store like a common criminal (at a value of $200). Though she vowed never to return, these were the pre-Walmart days and there wasn’t really anywhere else for low-income people to shop in Portland. Nowhere on a bus line, anyway.
When I was about 5 or 6, my grandma Laverne used to pick us up on some Saturdays and we’d walk around the Lloyd Center – back when it was an open-air mall with only two floors – and we’d eventually settle into Newberry’s so she and my mom could do a little shopping. If we’d behaved as expected, my brother Jeremy and I might be treated to lunch at the Newberry’s lunch counter. Being a typical kid, I always ordered a burger or a grilled cheese sandwich and fries with a soda. The first time I heard the phrase “greasy spoon,” it was used by Laverne to describe that place.
Newberry’s was the bane of my middle school existence. It was where imitation Keds sneakers and saggy, off-brand sweat pants were purchased for my much-maligned wardrobe. My first training bra was purchased there, despite my mom’s disbelief that my flat chest required harnessing. I used to spend my babysitting money on Wet & Wild cosmetics, Dep hair gel and the Designer Imposters version of Exclamation! body spray, but I was always mortified if anyone I knew caught me going in or coming out.
The last Newberry’s closed in 1997. I couldn’t have cared less.
These are all of the things I remember about Newberry’s. Every detail stored in my memory bank is a 3×5 card – a crisp flash of lightning across my hippocampus. There’s something so gut-wrenching about childhood nostalgia – even though I didn’t particularly love anything about Newberry’s when I was young, sifting through the tin box full of my mental index cards has shaken something loose in my soul. Now I’m wistful for that food, and that place, and I ache in my marrow to recreate it.
My search for a copy of the Newberry’s menu has been mostly fruitless. I found one scan of a menu from the Pheonix, AZ Newberry’s, circa 1938, but this isn’t the menu of my childhood. Nonetheless, it pricked a nerve and I found myself with a primal hanker for a deviled egg sandwich (and a chocolate malted, though this jones wasn’t as immediately sated).
I hard-cooked 6 eggs, cracked them gently all over and peeled them under running water. I halved each lengthwise and popped out the creamy yolks into a bowl. I wanted these to be particularly devillish, so in addition to mayo, I added jalapeño mustard, hot paprika and curry powder, plus a few pinches of salt and pepper, some smoky pimentón dulce and a dash of mustard powder. Next I added parsley, pickled onions (my own) and sweet-hot peppadews (in lieu of Laverne’s favorite pimentos), each minced finely. I blended the yolk mixture with a fork until smooth, then added the whites, coarsely chopped. I smeared toasted nutty wheat with mayo, added a handful of shredded lettuce and spooned on about 2.5 egg’s worth of the deviled egg salad. I sprinkled on another dash of hot paprika for good measure, and devoured the sandwich standing at my kitchen counter (intermittently plying Zephyr, demanding “mo! mo!” with spicy, eggy nibblets). It hit the spot, but a chocolate malted would’ve been a toe-curl.
I am on a quest, now, to find all of these quasi-memory foods. In the meanwhile, I guess I’ll just be poring over vintage menus and eating what strikes my fancy.
No Newb’s in Canada but from the photos it reminds me of Woolworths where as a family we used to stop by by for coke float and fries at the lunch counter and my mom bought cheese bread that was baked in a cylindrical form. I am pretty nostalgic about their hot turkey sandwiches too:D
Newberry’s was pretty similar to what I read about Woolworth’s (we didn’t have those here).
I’ll bet your sandwich doesn’t look anything like a Newberry’s sandwich. It looks better. Which is sometimes the best way to relive memories.
I actually really wanted white bread for this! I will probably use that next time. And iceberg. Definitely must use iceberg. But yes, mine was not the farty old egg salad from Newberry’s.
For me it was Woolworth’s and a burger melt. Never had another one after 11 years old or so, until I was 35 and decided to try making one. We had ours with chocolate egg creams.
Zeph likes spicy egg salad? What a man!
I can understand why you didn’t have fond associations for the place, but I would love somewhere with a nice 50s-does-art-deco lunch counter to open near me. Preferably serving grilled cheese and tuna melts.
I do love a good egg salad, and this sounds like a great one. The peppadews are a nice addition too. I remember a lunch counter where I once ate at a Woolworth’s, and I probably had a grilled cheese and a malt. Wish I could still go there.
Wow, do I ever remember the old open-air Lloyd Center and Newberry’s. My family moved to Portland in 1988 and one of the very first things we did after moving into the new house in Laurelhurst was go over to Lloyd Center. You see, when we left LA, my mom forgot to pack the dishes. She just left them in the cabinets (oops). So we went over to Meier & Frank, to see if there were any good deals on appealing patterns. When nothing struck her fancy at M&F, we went over to Newberry’s and bought some plastic bowls to use in the meantime. We had them for years (she never found a set of dishes she liked at a department store and proceeded to collect a massive set of matching white plates from area thriftstores).
Oddly enough, on that first trip to Lloyd Center, we also happened to run into Mayor Bud Clark. My mom was so thrilled with the move to Portland that she walked over and started telling him how much she loved the city. It was totally humiliating to nine-year-old me.
i love that photo; the counter seems to go forever. if there were still a newberry’s and they served that sandwich, i’d spend time looking for it when i go to portland next week. i’m sure that the kennedy school will have something special for me, though.
Gosh, I just had some chicken soup on my snow day, but now I’m fiending a spicy egg sandwich in a bad way.
I enjoyed that trip down memory lane so much that I found it hard to believe you don’t miss the place! I was thinking of making a snack of hard-boiled eggs. Now you have me thinking I should take those eggs in a new direction.
Glynda – I love patty melts, too. Egg cream always sounded so gross to me, though!
Alicia – I’d give my left nut to have that lunch counter back. Shit, I’d reopen that place myself!
Lisa – The peppadews are the perfect thing to go in egg salad. They’re not just for the pretty photo, it turns out!
Marisa – I bet the first time you got rained on while walking around Lloyd Center made you a little homesick for LA! But Bud Clark…he was like our Teddy Roosevelt.
Burkie – The Kennedy School has its own special charm, but it’s no Newberry’s. Definitely have a drink in the detention hall, though.
Christine – There’s always dinner!
Rachel – I DO miss that place, now. That’s why I said that even though I didn’t love it when I was younger, my memories of it now make me feel nostalgic for it.
WOW… thanks for the trip down memory lane! We had Newberry’s down here in L.A, too. I used to go there and get candy and assorted items as well. Deviled egg looks like it packs a punch! Cheers…
I want one of these! Love love love deviled eggs, and I have the pimenton…–Sue
Where I grew up, we had both a Newberry’s and a Woolworth’s. I don’t remember a counter at Newberry’s but I remember the Woolworth’s counter very well. Our most interesting counter was downtown at a tobacco shop. Really. Joe, one of the owners, was the only cook and he could remember up to 20 orders without ever having a written ticket. This was one busy counter during the week around lunchtime. My favorite was the patty melt. Sadly, Joe passed away not long ago, but he certainly left a lot of memories for his customers.
We had a Woolworth’s in Santa Fe. The Frito Pies there were legendary. Woolworth’s has been replaced by a very lame Five and Dime, but they have maintained the Frito Pie recipe. Every time I go back to NM, I make sure to get one. Since it’s going to be awhile before I’m back in the Land of Entrapment, I’ll need to get busy and try to recreate the recipe myself. My mouth is watering.
Thanks for bring back such good memories.
There was a J. J. Newberry in Paramus, NJ.
It was our primary stop for dress patterns and fabric.
It had a snack counter, nothing like pictured above. It served hot dogs, soda & ice cream sandwiches made with waffles.
The mall is still standing and in Newberry’s place is now a Marshall’s.
This post did two things: 1) made me crave a tuna melt like nobody’s business, and I don’t really know why (though a deviled egg sammich would also hit the old-timey spot). And 2) made me sad about all the Rosses and Jo-Anns and WalMarts that have taken over the old neighborhood shops of our youth. Thanks for that, Heather. Jerk.
You got me wanting some egg salad sammies now! I love how you’ve spiced this one up. And, is that Dave’s Killer bread I’m seeing? I just met him in person this week!
My version of Newberry’s here in DE was a Woolworth’s. Same wet n wild and dippity do.. same Lunch counter. The patty melts and milkshakes were to die for! There is nothing like that anymore. I miss those days.
Ahh… Newberry’s. I was about 8 or 9 when I started to realize how horrid the clothes were there. My favorite thing was a triple scoop ice cream cone and I used to be my mom or Grandma to get me one every time we went in. Thanks for the memories