The monkey on his back
Had the stress finally gotten to Mariano?
No judgements. And really, for someone who works as hard as Chef Mariano—well, it was only a matter of time.
There was a lot going on last weekend: the No Kings Rally on Saturday, a busy Sunday, and then we opened early on Monday for a celebration of life (following a funeral). We were also short staffed, so Mariano had been working way too hard for far too long. On Monday afternoon a package was delivered for him; I brought it back to the kitchen.
He quickly opened it, took out a stuffed animal and immediately wrapped it around his neck. I was not expecting that. I had been about to take a photo of Mariano’s hat (his daughter Marlene recently joined the Navy), but wasn’t sure what to do now with this new development.
Um, should I call someone? Was this a cry for help? He’s so competent, but I guess everyone has their limit.
But it turns out I was the one who was limited. In my effort to avoid the onslaught of horrific news, I also completely missed the story about Punch, the Japanese baby snow monkey who was rejected by his mother and bullied by the other monkeys in the zoo. Punch turned to a stuffed orangutan from Ikea for comfort. (And really, who among us?) The story took the internet by storm, but I was too busy seeking shelter in reruns of Andy Griffith to take any notice. Mariano cleared up the mystery for me:
Phew! An extremely hard worker, Mariano was not—I was very relieved to discover— having a nervous breakdown or reverting to a childlike state. An absolute linchpin, he is essential to the success of McManus.




It was Mariano who led us to victory in several NYC "Battle of the Burger” contests.
Nor are his talents limited to the kitchen. When something needs fixing (which happens on the regular given that we have been in the same building since 1936), the first person we turn to is Mariano. The sink behind the bar, for instance.
Or the one in the Men’s room:
His aptitude is not limited to cooking and plumbing—he would have been an excellent medic or firefighter; he’s good in a crisis.
A few years ago I was riding a Citi Bike to work when a delivery guy on an e-bike ran a red light and hit me. I was knocked to the ground on Sixth Avenue and 19th Street, but that asshole just kept going.
A crowd gathered, and someone offered to call an ambulance. I got up a little dazed, and—though my knee was killing me— I thought I was basically OK, so I declined. I was only a block from work, and thought if I could just get there and put ice on my knee, I’d be alright. A passerby offered to dock my bike for me, and I limped to work.
By the time I reached the door of McManus, though, I knew it was bad—I could barely stand and the pain was shocking. I was working alone that day, and needed to open the bar, so I called around to try to find someone to come in to work for me. No one was available on such short notice. Justin (the owner) was way out on Long Island, but said he would get there as soon as he could.
I limped behind the bar to try to set up just as Mariano came out from the kitchen. He told me to sit down and looked at my knee which had swelled up to twice its normal size. I think I was still in shock, and told him I had to get the bar open.
Mariano shook his head, “No, we can’t open right now.” He went across the street to Duane Reade and bought a cane for me.
“You need to go to the hospital,” he said, helping me off the stool and offering his arm as he led me to the door and locked it behind us.
Mariano hailed a cab and got into the backseat beside me. He stayed by my side until I was safely checked in at Beth Israel Hospital; only then did he leave to go back to work.
I will always be grateful to Mariano for taking charge that day, and for seeing what I could not. My knee was destroyed in the accident, the damage too extensive to fix, and a knee replacement was scheduled.
Mariano brings lived experience, culinary expertise, handyman skills, and compassion to his job.
These days it feels like we’re all Punch the monkey, desperately looking for comfort and something to cling to, but as long as there are people like Mariano—those who go above and beyond in their work and in caring for others—we will be OK.








What a beautiful story and wonderful photo of Mariano and family in the McManus window. I hate to think about you having had that bike crash - of course you came out of it a bionic woman!
WOW what a story! and what a beautiful man. takes one to know one. two treasures! the boat a youse❤️