“people have developed routines around it. we come every friday
to get donuts.”
another customer, mary rook, showed me a photo of herself and six other seniors gathered around a table at bamm’s after a swim at patro d’ottawa pool next door.
“we don’t want to go anywhere else, do we?” she asked her 12-year-old grandson, khalid muhamud.
apparently not. khalid said he’s hoping to hold his birthday party there this month.
if he does, it would be one in a long string of events hosted at bamm’s: poetry readings, yoga mornings, flower-arranging workshops and community meetings to name a few.
and there have been the more service-oriented ones, like the 250 turkey meals that ashley and matt, the latter a red seal chef, prepare for the lowertown community resource centre’s festive dinner each december, along with toy drives organized out of bamm’s back room.
on the wall behind the lunch counter, meanwhile, is the pay-it-forward board, where customers quietly pay for meals for those who can’t afford them.
matthew atton and ashley atton at bamm’s snack shack, where the massive doughnuts are ‘a product of passion and creativity.’
tony caldwell
/
postmedia
the sense of family is even found in the restaurant’s name, an acronym — after a fashion — of ashley and matt’s first names, along with those of their three boys, bowie, brady and myles.
the irony of customers wondering whether they hadn’t done enough is not lost on ashley, who says she is “heartbroken” by the prospect of this grassroots gathering place disappearing.
“it’s a community space that offers food,” she said — not the other way around.
when she and matt announced the closure, “the worst part,” she said, was having to face disappointed regulars.
“they’re so sad, but they completely understand why. we’re all grieving together.”
on a school day, between 30 and 50 students — many from nearby de la salle high school — can pass through in just 45 minutes. dinner brings 60 to 90 dishes from a kitchen that fits three staff comfortably — or four rubbing elbows. the business comes in waves — flood, lull, flood again — making staffing and prep a constant scramble.