Vale Cin Cin Pizza Cucina Bar. That's our local trattoria (or in the parlance of the restaurant industry, "local treasure") which will close its doors this evening having served excellent, home style Italian meals for the last 4 years or so.
I shall of course be there for the final call.
The business is family run. The father, whose real name is Alcide but who became known as Giulio because in 1970's Australia you had sod all chance of getting the Anglos to use or pronounce a name like Alcide, arrived as part of the post-war migration boom. Well, when I say "post war", the war was at least 20 years prior by that point but - here's a scary thought - 20 years before I'm writing this was the year 2001. Distance in time is very much a "perspective" thing.
I believe that this drawing is indeed based on the younger version of him, given some of the family photos that have been hung on the walls over time. I like Alcide / Giulio, with his only discernible character flaw being that he follows SS Lazio in calcio (Italian soccer to you) rather than the One True Faith of AS Roma.
He married an Australian woman, had a family, and started producing not just children but restaurants and associated businesses. It was doubtless hard work, and doubtless long hours, but there are rarely many empty tables once the peak hours start.
The business has largely been passed on to one of his sons but he and his wife still regularly worked in the kitchen here. Giulio's specialty is wood fired pizzas and if you get one of his, you're in for a treat.
So what happened? First, the family still has another restaurant in the nearby suburb of Balgownie. In addition they have a woodfired pizza truck and trailer, and that business is going gangbusters. Consequently they were starting to be spread a little thin. Add to that the fact that the new owners of this strip of shops and restaurants jacked the rent up recently, and... something had to give.
Unfortunately for us, it was Cin Cin.
Is this the best photo I could get of it? No, the best photo would probably be when it's open and there are stacks of people inside enjoying the ambience and the food. There will however be only one more opportunity for that and if I miss it... well, at least I have this morning's shoot. More to the point, this story is about its closure. The red glow from the traffic light adds to the overcooked symbolism that I add to my photos from time to time.
I took a number of shots of the restaurant and nearby buildings from the front as well, but those are for my "Documenting The Suburbs Before They Change And Nobody Recognises Them" project, which will eventually turn up as a new gallery.
In the meantime... I have to get ready for dinner, one last time.
Appendix, June 2021: Nobody has a right to know anyone else's business. But I don't think it's unreasonable to expect not to be bulls**tted to. And we were. The very week after we were told that running two restaurants was too much, and it was a choice of quality over quantity, etc, etc - the very next week, mind - there was a story about a new incarnation of CinCin re-opening in the suburb of Gwynville, 13 kilometres away. Would I have been put out had they told us that? Not so much, no. Was I put out because they told us a load of felgercarb? Yyyyeah. To say that I was angry would be an exaggeration. To say that I was annoyed, likewise. To say that it left a really sour taste in the mouth because it showed no respect to good customers? That would be about it. The new CinCin opened a few days ago. I haven't been and am not planning on going, though it's certainly not out of reach. Nor have I been back to the Balgownie one since I saw that article. Never say never, but I have no plans to change that either, as of now.