Grocer reaps sweet freedom at long last

Those of us who were the baby boom now make a different generational noise; it sounds like a deep sigh punctuated by the popping of a champagne cork. Murray Graziano is retiring. He is the owner of Golden Orchard, an organic fruit and vegetable stand in the St. Lawrence Market. He has sold the business, and he is set to hang up his apron.

We met some years ago, when his mother was ill. Cora Graziano started the business, and she was a market stalwart. She was and always will be the only person in the world who made pies for both John Honderich and the Dalai Lama.

Cora wasn’t much for pie herself; she told me she liked cake. But the pie she made for the Dalai Lama was rhubarb and strawberry, and he said it was the best pie he ever ate. Murray makes soup. Not for much longer. The new owners take over soon. They will, as is their right, refashion the stand and change the name. Golden Orchard? When Cora set up shop, she was living in Mississauga. On Golden Orchard Dr. And so this is the actual end of an era. Murray’s grandfather came here from Italy. He sold fruit from a pushcart on the street; Murray’s father Mike would help.

Mike married Cora when they were both young; for a time they had a fruit and vegetable store on Queen St. Cora also worked part time in the Market, and one day, nearly 50 years ago, she was offered the business.

In the way of things, a family of immigrants is supposed to go from blue collar to white; Mike wanted his son Murray to become a lawyer. I merely observe that we have too many lawyers, and not enough grapes.

Murray was working in produce for one of the major supermarkets until the day Cora said she needed help. Murray — I always think of him by his given name, Marino — said, “I was the oldest son. I saw it as my duty.”

For more than 30 years he has been getting up at 3 a.m., having a quick breakfast, and starting work at 4 a.m. Most days, he does not get home until 7 p.m. It is a miserable schedule in a hard business, and I have never known Murray when he has not had stress lines hovering around his head.

Until, that is, he made up his mind to sell. What will he do now? He will continue to supply a couple of corporate accounts; just enough to keep busy, not enough to break his back. “I’m going to start doing something for myself. I’m going to pay more attention to my wife; she’s put up with a lot over the years.”

Marriage is a lovely, complicated thing. Murray has spent half a lifetime getting up before the sun; his wife is a night owl. They need time for themselves. Love to them both. I am fond of a guy who stops to talk. Murray has a great big heart and an abiding interest in the world, and those of us in it; often, when he tells me what he knows and what he’s heard, he ends up teary-eyed.

There isn’t a day when he does not think of Cora. They worked side by side, day after day, for so many years. Not long after she died, Murray came to work and he found himself alone in the early morning. He was looking at the photos of Cora on the wall and he began to wonder about what he was doing; a kind of existential thing. And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around. No one there. Cora. He also told me he once had a customer on Toronto Island. She got cancer and wanted an organic diet. Her friends came to the Golden Orchard. He did not hesitate; everything, anything, wholesale.

Near the end, the woman held a party for her friends and she invited Murray. He has always had a deep dread of water. He went over on the ferry. He can never finish this story without wet cheeks.

The good news? He said, “I like the new guys. They’re going to do things right.” They’d better. Cora will be watching.

Murray, too. Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. jfiorito@thestar.ca