Behind the line, chefs can craft new flavors, reimagine popular dishes, use the newest techniques, or lean into the hottest trends. But there’s one thing they can’t make from scratch: the nostalgia that comes only with time.
The North Shore is peppered with restaurants that serve up that kind of comfort that stirs a long tucked away memory—piling into a vinyl booth after your first homecoming dance, the waft – ing scent of fried clams on a summer night, picking up a sausage, egg, and cheese on a chewy bagel on the way to Good Harbor Beach, or closing the day with a juicy “3-Way,” just the way your dad used to do, and his dad before that. The best eats on the North Shore can be debated for hours, prestigious awards can be hung in the fanciest foy – ers, and folks can swear the “camera eats first” for the Instagram follows, but the places we love—the ones that have filled our hearts and bellies, an – swered the cravings, and soothed the soul for generations? Now those are something special.
Pulling into a parking space outside the Agawam Diner in Rowley leaves no question that you’ve arrived at a place in time, whether you have a personal connection or not to the 1954 authen – tic chrome-and-red retro eatery. The Galanis family has been serving up American classics since 1940, with their shiny Fodero Dining Car making its move to this location in 1970. “Chicken pie, meatloaf, really good chili, beef stew, omelets; we’re known for our corned beef hash and the desserts,” says Angela Mitchell, who owns the diner with her sister Ethel DePasquale. With sink-into-your-seat booths, vinyl swivel stools lining the Formica countertop, photographs throughout that tell the story of the diner and its community, and the aroma of sizzling bacon or a just-out-of-the-oven apple pie swirling through the air, the Agawam is a step back to simpler times.
Their father, Andy Galanis, started the business, now listed on the National Register of Historic Places, with his brothers in neighboring Ipswich. Eightyfive years later, the Agawam is still beloved not only for its iconic scratch-made comfort foods, but for the spirit Angela, Ethel, and other familiar faces bring with their first-name-basis greetings, bottomless coffee refills, and decades of warm hospitality. “We know everyone. Everyone,” laughs Angela. “It’s a great place to work, a great place to meet people. We’ve been very fortunate.” Restaurant life is also a familiar story for the Woodman family, whose roadside food stand in Essex first made waves more than a century ago.
“My grandfather used to dig clams and sell them to a dealer. He wasn’t mak – ing much money, so he was trying to figure out a way to make more, then he got the opportunity to sell them on the roadside, right where the restaurant is now,” says Steve Woodman. It was 1914, and Steve’s grandfather, Lawrence “Chubby” Woodman, started selling fresh fried potato chips—a newly popu – lar commodity—in addition to small items at the stand. A friend suggested using the fry kettle to sizzle up some clams, then considered “poor people food,” says Woodman. On July 3, 1916, fried clams made their debut at the town’s Independence Day parade. A record-breaking $35 was earned, and Woodman’s of Essex became synony – mous with the crispy coastal classic.
Today, the restaurant is a com – pound, with a year-round dining room that harkens to the past, an ice cream stand, catering operation, merch, and serene shaded spot with picnic tables on the edge of the salt marsh. But the growth has not changed its familyfriendly, no-frills approach, with self service pickup when the order number is called, wooden booths, and, typically, a fourth- or fifth-generation Woodman behind the counter. Summertime lines stretch far out the door for the bites of beloved briny bivalve, made with local and New England clams that are dredged in corn flour before being fried to a golden brown.
Fifty-five years after Revere Beach opened as the nation’s first public beach, Kelly’s Roast Beef made its own mark on history. In 1951, friends Frank McCar – thy and Raymond Cary opened a simple hot dog stand along the waterfront, nam – ing it after their buddy, Thomas Kelly. The two also worked at a neighboring catering hall that had a last-minute wedding cancellation, leaving the crew with plenty of roast beef to go around. They decided to thinly cut the hot beef and pile slices of it in a buttery bun, a new culinary creation—at least to these founders—was born.
Touting the “original roast beef sandwich,” the flagship Kelly’s is a bona fide landmark, a shamrock-green neon beacon of aprés-beach beefy sandwich served among other iconic takeout items, including lobster rolls, clam rolls, fish sandwiches, and land – lubber offerings as well. Even in the coldest months, Kelly’s brings the heat, serving up classics alongside tens of thousands of its signature sammy: the Boston “three-way,” thinly sliced medi – um-rare roast beef topped with white American cheese, mayo, and James River BBQ sauce on a griddled sesame seed bun (sometimes, an onion roll makes a special appearance). It’s messy, a real napkin-grabber, which adds to the sand – wich’s charm. Kelly’s now has more than a dozen locations, reaching up to New Hampshire and as far south as Florida, but longtime fans know grabbing a bite at the location that started it all at the pavilion across the street on the beach is the way the sandwich was meant to be experienced.
Like Kelly’s, Kane’s Donuts opened in the 1950s, a humble mom and pop shop in Saugus with early morning hours to serve throngs of factory and overnight shift workers. After three decades, the shop was sold and on the decline until Kay and Peter Delios, who lived up the street and had previously run their own donut shop, Mrs. Foster’s in Lynn, decid – ed to come out of retirement to restore Kane’s to its former glory.
Today, Kane’s is run by their four children, Maria, Stephen, Peter, and Catherine. “I can remember when do – nuts were just simple, jelly-filled, sugar, or cinnamon,” says Maria Delios. But the family took donuts to the next level. “Before it was en vogue, we tried to be different from other donut shops. We were probably the first ones to come out with an M&M donut, a cookies and cream—and I’m talking way back—be – fore anyone was making a maple bacon donut, we were making it!” She says the difference is in the fresh “real” ingre – dients they use, often locally sourced. “Dad had a firm motto on how to make a donut: If you’re not gonna eat it, you don’t sell it.”
Exotic donuts might draw big fans – caramel apple crunch donuts, a Sam Ad – ams Jack-O Pumpkin Ale donut, vegan, and gluten-free options, too, but Kane’s original simple honey-dipped takes top honors, named best in the country. “It’s a classic, and ours are better than every – body else’s because we use real honey in our glaze,” says Delios. There are now three Kane’s locations nationwide ship – ping via Goldbelly, but for many on the North Shore, it’s the glowing pink neon of the original Saugus shop that still feels most like home.
Though a youngster in comparison to the aforementioned North Shore in – stitutions, Bagel World draws some of the longest lines, and some would argue traffic snarls, in these parts. Founded in 1993 by the Kantorosin – ski family, the inaugural outpost was in Peabody, building a reputation for extraordinary, freshly baked bagels made from a Polish-inspired recipe created by Bagel World patriarch, the late Stanley Kantorosinski. Now run by the next generation, Bagel World has expanded to four locations across the North Shore. The product brings a welcome moment of clarity in every chewy bite with a spread (or a schmear!) and offers satisfyingly firm bookends for a hearty sandwich.