It takes a family to feed a village
Fiesta Farms has become an emotional place with new dangers and burdens
Tracey and Dino Virgona are tired. Speaking over video chat, the sibling owners of west-end independent grocer Fiesta Farms are frank about the toll this year has taken on them.
“It has been exhausting,” Tracey said, opening up about the burnout she’s been feeling. “I don’t know how everybody in the whole industry isn’t crashing.”
While all grocers have faced new risks and responsibilities from running an essential business amid the pandemic, small independent stores have had it even harder. Without the support of a head office or partner stores, they have had to contend with surging demand for items such as flour and toilet paper, adjust to shifting consumer needs and respond to developing health concerns.
For the Virgonas, it’s meant pulling 18-hour days, putting out fires constantly and meeting with management sometimes three to four times daily to discuss new developments — all while trying to put on a brave face for customers and staff.
“You’re petrified of screwing up and you’ve got to think ahead … if you did that, what are the consequences for each stage, whether it be your family or your customers or your staff,” Dino said.
“Behind the scenes, we were so mentally and physically exhausted,” Tracey said, her voice quavering with emotion.
When COVID-19 first hit, the Virgonas scrambled to keep the Christie Street grocery’s 150 staff and hundreds of daily customers safe. That meant putting in social distancing markers, establishing designated shopping hours for elderly and immunocomprised people and throwing together a store-todoor delivery system. In the months since, they’ve dealt with staff COVID-19 cases, changing health conditions, public anxiety and occasional abuse from customers over health measures like masks.
However, it’s also been an opportunity for Tracey and Dino to connect with the community that has kept the store in business for decades.
Grocery is in the Virgonas’ blood. Their father, Joe Virgona, worked in stores from the time he was 14 and opened Fiesta Farms in 1989 in a converted Pepsi plant just north of Bloor Street. Many of Tracey’s childhood memories involve spending Sundays with her dad at the stores where he worked, back before Sunday shopping was widely legal and retailers could only sell necessities. Younger brother Dino joined the family business in his early 20s to work at Fiesta’s garden centre across the street.
Known for its family feel and wide range of accessible, high-quality fare, Fiesta Farms has become a staple in the west-end Toronto community, with regular patrons ranging from folks in their 90s to kids from nearby schools.
Every culture that has made its way through the neighbourhood in the past 35 years — from Korean to Italian, Portuguese and Caribbean — has had an effect on the store, influencing the
selection of products. If there’s an item you want that you don’t see on the shelves, “we’ll try to move heaven and earth to get that product,” Tracey said.
At 78, Joe trusts Tracey, Dino and the other store managers to run Fiesta Farms, but he stays in close touch from his home in Caledon. Customers feel his presence in the store through his portrait at the front entrance. The operation is a true family affair, with Joe’s three kids, seven grandkids and a couple of their spouses working at the store and garden centre.
This past year has been difficult for the Virgonas in more ways than one.
In the summer, Tracey and Dino lost their mother to a brain injury. In the months leading up to her death, Tracey cared for her in the hospital while Dino ran the daily operations of the store. Now, Tracey stays home with her father, helping Fiesta mostly from afar. It’s been tough for her to stay away.
“I’d love to be there with everything going on. I’m a handson person,” she said.
Meanwhile, the pandemic unfolded and the Virgonas found themselves leading the way on safety, insisting that customers wear masks inside the store in May, two months before the city of Toronto required it.
The Virgonas were able to implement strong protective measures while maintaining the things that make the store unique, said Joshna Maharaj, a chef and loyal Fiesta Farms shopper.
When it was no longer safe for shoppers to use their own bags in the store, the family implemented a system where people could carry their unbagged groceries outside and bag them there.
“They understood that they have a strong and environmentally focused group of shoppers … there’s no way we could all be separated from our reusable shopping bags.”
The store has managed to preserve its welcoming atmosphere, Maharaj added. “What I really loved was that they put in all the pandemic COVID protocols but still maintained that cheerful, friendly community connection that is always happening in the store.”
Some moments have been especially challenging, such as when the first staff member tested positive for COVID-19 in May. Back then, there weren’t clear protocols for managing employee infections, so the Virgonas closed shop for a few days to do a deep clean.
They notified customers on their blog, where they share everything from charitable initiatives to recipes for coffee cake to tips on how to volunteer during the pandemic.
“I’m not going to lie. I was petrified of a negative reaction from people,” Dino said. He feared that his customers might no longer feel safe shopping at the store. But what they got was an outpouring of well-wishes.
Messages of gratitude and encouragement from patrons — the store has received thousands over the last year — get posted in the lunchroom for staff to see:
“You are doing a wonderful job. We are deeply grateful. Congratulations to you all!”
“Thrilled that you’re giving us oldies and special peeps a dedicated hour before the hoards arrive. Thank you, thank you!!” “I love you all.”
“I would read (the messages) at night and I would just be crying,” Tracey said. “It gave you that sense of fighting on and moving on.”
Early in the pandemic, a Fiesta Farms driver named Ryan went to deliver groceries to a customer in need. “(Ryan) was so exhausted, and he came around the corner and everybody was out on the streets clapping for him and cheering him on,” Tracey said.
In the midst of it all, the staff — Fiesta Farmers, as they call them — have stepped up, covering shifts, working in departments they’ve never worked in before and risking their own health to bring people food in a crisis.
“We’re a small, independent family-run store. You could really feel the family in our store,” Tracey said.
Manager Kendra Sozinho has worked at Fiesta for 17 years, starting as a part-time cashier in high school. This year she has put in so many hours and experienced so many emotions, it’s more like a home than a job. “I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much in my entire life,” she said. “I probably should have bought a punching bag for the house.”
Fellow employee Louise Boultbee, who joined three years ago for a four-month stint at the garden centre and never left, says Sozinho is the hub of Fiesta Farms’ wheel.
The two have shared so much this past year that when the Ontario government announced in June that people could have close contact with a group of 10, there was no question they’d be in each other’s bubble.
“I just looked at Louise and (I said), we’re going to hug,” Sozinho said.
“We are family here,” said Boultbee.
Early in the pandemic, before Fiesta had a delivery system, customers would email their grocery lists, and an employee would shop for them and bring it to them. Tracey’s daughter Nikki would call consumers back to confirm the items, often spending up to an hour with each on the phone.
“Mom, these people are so lonely … We’re not really talking about food, we’re talking about what’s going on in the world,” she told Tracey.
In a year when most social spaces are closed and day-today events have turned virtual, grocery shopping is now the only real interaction for many people with the outside world. For those who operate the cash register, stock the aisles, greet people at the door and handle the deliveries, it has meant a new depth of connection with customers.
“It’s an amazing feeling,” Sozinho said, “the fact that you can be that outlet for those five minutes for that person that’s having a really bad day because they’ve been stuck at home, and the only time they’ve been able to leave their house with their four children and their motherin-law and the dog that’s barking all day is to go to the grocery store. You take those five minutes, and you savour them.”
The moments of kindness are balanced by more difficult scenarios: Customers complaining about the mask policy or getting angry that people were not distancing in the aisles. But Boultbee, Sozinho and the Virgonas chalk those feelings up to fear.
“At the time we were looking at it and (thinking) this is borderline abusive. I can look back now and say these people were scared,” Tracey said.
In fact, grocery workers have become unlikely confidantes in hard times. Boultbee is acutely aware that they are part of the public’s ability to cope.
Many interactions from the past year stand out to her: the terrified pregnant shopper who back in March had shared she’d just been told she would be induced the following day, one month before her due date; the woman who came into the store “dressed to the nines” on a sunny May morning on her way to her father’s funeral.
Each time Boultbee would smile and ask people how they were doing, choosing to stay positive during tough moments. She felt she made a difference in their day.
“It’s the best part about being an essential worker. And it’s very essential what you provide. You feel valued.”