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Pantry essentials at Dugazon
Jennifer Almquist
“My Louisiana roots come from my mother’s family in Baton Rouge via New Orleans where many of my memories of cooking, food, antiquing, flea markets, hospitality, entertaining, originate,” Graham said.“Being raised in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, enhanced the importance of community, family, friends and regional cultures, forming the essence of Dugazon.”
Graham and Marden sat on the front porch telling the story of their shop’s evolution. With its wicker loveseats and geraniums in bloom, the old porch invites visitors to linger.
Matt Marden and Bobby Graham open Dugazonat 19 West Main St.in Sharon on Aug 27. Jennifer Almquist
“Bobby has been talking about Dugazon ever since our first date 21 years ago,” Marden said smiling. “I could not be more thrilled that his dream has finally become our reality.”
Graham laughed, then shared their hope that Dugazon embodies the spirit of lagniappe, a French concept of “adding a little extra to bring unexpected kindness, generosity and delight into everyday life.”
Marden worked at Staley-Wise Gallery in New York City. “Town & Country” recruited him to cover men’s fashion. He became fashion director of “Details” magazine and later style director for “Esquire” magazine.
Graham spent 24 years at Condé Nast as a Fashion and luxury advertising sales executive for “Vogue,” “GQ,” “Vanity Fair,” “AD,” and “The New Yorker.”
Within their light-filled shop, unique antiques and vintage cookbooks mix with kitchen necessities such as wooden spoons and cutting boards. Dugazon is bursting with elegant and functional items ranging from designer John Derian treasures to Louisiana hot sauce, luxurious table linens from Milan-based La Double J, and pantry essentials including Café Du Monde beignet mix, Mam Papaul’s jambalaya fixings, and various jams.
Scandinavian 19-inch tapered candles from creators ester & erik are available in 30 colors. Other offerings include vivid naïve paintings by New Orleans-born artist Alvin Batiste, who now works out of Donaldsonville, Louisiana, and paper goods designed by Marden’s first cousin, Carey Marden Shaulus.
Alvin Batiste paintings and ester& erik candles on display at Dugazon.Jeff Holt
“Dugazon becoming a reality has been a lifelong dream that comes from deep in my creative soul,” Graham said.“My experiences and memories from my roots, family and friends is what Dugazon is all about. Being able to share this with the world means everything to us.”
Dugazon opens Wednesday, Aug. 27 at 11 a.m.and will be open Wednesdays through Sundays 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Closed Mondays and Tuesdays.
Phone: 860-397-5196
Instagram:@dugazonshop
Website:www.dugazonshop.com
Eddie Curtis of New Jersey casually caught and released a Housatonic River smallmouth bass of modest size during a Trout Unlimited smallmouth bass event at Housatonic Meadows State Park Saturday, Aug. 16.
Patrick L. Sullivan
The answer is two-fold.
First, the Housatonic River in summer is primarily a smallmouth fishery. The water is too warm for trout but it doesn’t bother the bass much.The trout are hiding out in the thermal refuge areas and are off-limits until mid-September.
Second, the word “unlimited” suggests wiggle room.
When I rolled in there was a small pop-up tent with the words “Trout Unlimited” on it set up by the upper parking lot. Being a trained observer, I spotted this vital clue almost immediately.
There was a folding table under the tent. It was empty, but it seemed likely there would be food on it at some point.
Trained observers are also patient. I tabled the food question and motored down to the lower parking area, where I beheld half a dozen men with fly rods casting into the low, slow river with varying degrees of proficiency and enthusiasm.
The nearest to me turned out to be Eddie Curtis, who hails from southern New Jersey. “About 15 minutes from Philly,” he said.
Curtis was a fortuitous choice of subject. Chatty and easy-going, he embarked on an angling monologue that included adventures on salt and fresh water and an incisive critique of fish and game practices in his home state.
All the while he chucked lazy downstream casts. On about every tenth one, he hooked a smallish smallmouth bass.
I asked him what fly he was using. The answer -- a black Wooly Bugger -- wasn’t surprising. That’s a standard pattern for this kind of fishing. Almost a cliche.
Curtis was using a black Wooly Bugger with an unusual feature — a little propeller or spinner.Patrick L. Sullivan
But this was different in that it had a little propeller attached just below the hook eye.
I last saw something like this in the mid-1990s in New Mexico, where a rustic saloon I just happened to be in had a small display case of standard trout flies with the same kind of propellers attached. The brand name was “Pistol Pete.”
Curtis said they work almost too well. He jerked his thumb behind him and said “He ties them for me.”
I resolved to catch up with “he” when everybody took a break.
I ambled back to the car and exchanged camera and notebook for rod and vest.
I tried four different flies, two surface and two subsurface, and failed to move anything.
Not anxious to perform the Walk of Shame, I tried a black Wooly Bugger, no propeller.
That did the trick.
Back up at the tent my finely honed instincts proved correct.Food had materialized, in the form of two giant submarine sandwiches, a couple of jumbo bags of potato chips, and sodas.
Gerald Berrafati was in charge of this. He is the chapter coordinator for the Mianus Trout Unlimited chapter, and he was talking a mile a minute about various dam removal and stream reclamation projects in his bailiwick.
Since the state of Connecticut east of New Hartford and south of Torrington is a complete mystery to me, I had only a vague idea where these places were.
But it sounded good.
Antoine Bissieux, who does business as “The French Fly Fisherman,” made a cameo appearance. Some years back he was with a couple of sports on the Hous in similar circs — warm, low, late summer -- and I swapped him a handful of mop flies for a sampler of his perdigon nymphs. If he remembered this he didn’t let on.
The six or eight of us at the tent did a number on the chow and talked some guff between bites. The sandwiches were good. So was the guff.
Warren Nesteruk of Southbury (I think) said his wife was giving him a hard time about having so many fly rods.
I asked how many he had.
“Fifteen,” he replied.
When I informed him I had something like 80 rods, he grew thoughtful, as if my awful example might buy him some space.
Then it struck him.
“You’re not married, are you.”
One loose end remained. I hate loose ends, and I wanted to find the fellow who added propellers to his flies.
But they had left.
So if you read this, Eddie Curtis of south Jersey, drop me a line. I’d like to find out if they really do work almost too well.
