Sarah Goler and Will Emery, the friendly Uptown Manhattan owners of Tannat Market & Tavern.
I was so sad to read about Tannat Market & Tavern’s closing on Instagram, Facebook, and the front door of their brick-and-mortar on Broadway. In response to each NYC mandate, owners Will and Sarah played entrepreneurial hopscotch until they couldn’t anymore.
Becoming a Tannatian helped me cope with the Pandemic’s constant changes by deeply connecting with my Inwood neighbors and my own belly and kitchen.
What is a Tannatian [pronounced Ta-NOT-ee-un]? It’s an Uptown Manhattanite who signed up for regular shopping sessions at Tannat, a wine cafe turned farmer’s market during shutdowns.
Every Wednesday, one of the owners of Tannat sent me a text reminding me of my appointment the next day, on Thursday. I would respond that I was in town, wasn’t planning on moving, and I would be there the next day masked and ready to purchase groceries within my private 15-minute time slot.
I looked forward to these few minutes with Tannat staff, some of the best people in the neighborhood, if not the whole city. I would stand outside the door and wait for the shopper ahead of me to finish. Then I would enter the charming little shop — once just a restaurant — now filled with crates of beans, vegetables, and beers and wines.
I would then hand my bag to the cashier while I washed my hands and chatted. If I asked about meats, from ethically raised animals, I could expect duck, rabbit, brisket, beef, chicken, or any other menu item from British literature.
Because there was so little to do in my apartment, I made meals I had never before tried, most of them more comforting than exotic: stews, chicken and dumplings, and lots of really, really filling meatloaf. Following the staff’s guidance, I purchased affordable wines that paired with my main courses. For the next week, my pots were in constant use. I paced between Zoom meetings and the kitchen to stir work-from-home lunches and dinners.
I got addicted to Tannat’s used jigsaw puzzle selection celebrating far-off lands. Once I finished a fantastical scene focused on a Tuscan villa or Irish town, I brought the puzzle back to Tannat for an exchange. Same thing with paperback novels on their bookshelves. I didn’t move away like so many neighbors. I didn’t travel. But Tannat’s staff allowed me to feel some sort of movement while I stayed still.
Never have I had so much time isolated, worried, and sad. But socializing with the Tannat team was delightful, a chance to discuss embarrassing Zoom moments and socially distanced romances. I would go a step further here, on deeper reflection.
Tannat and its crew helped me survive.
It has been such a strange time. The staff of Tannat represented the best of adaptation while maintaining a community spirit.
Thank you, Tannat, for your vision and dedication to food and community!