As Ivar Gram held a glass of aquavit in his right hand and intoned a long Norwegian toast of skaal at the head of a table seating 20 men, it was possible at that moment to harken back to the first Connecticut Carnivores Club luncheon in April 1999.
For surely that was shipping at the time, and a lunch table like the recent gathering in Darien, Connecticut, was neither unique nor out of step in the industry.
But of course, there were differences, too. Many of those gathered for the club’s 25th-anniversary luncheon are now retired or nearing the end of their careers — mostly in shipping, some in other businesses.
The crowd put the old in “old school”, with most at least in their 60s and easily ranging into the 80s.
Steak tartare was not on the menu as it was during the early gatherings, although steak of course did make an appearance.
And there was no smoke, as there had been at the first gathering in the bar of Spanish restaurant Sevilla in nearby Greenwich. The early meetings were limited to 30 because that was the capacity in the smoking-friendly bar of the otherwise smokeless eatery. Cigars were a thing there.
In welcoming remarks to members, Gram — a former Stolt-Nielsen chartering executive — recalled the club’s origin at Sevilla.
It stemmed from hunger. Gram and co-founder Charlie Fritts were “bemoaning” the fact that a favourite dish, steak tartare, had been removed from most local restaurant menus because of an E coli scare.
The restaurateur was sympathetic.
“He said, ‘Oh, you want steak tartare? We’ll give you steak tartare’. And that’s how CCC [Connecticut Carnivores Club] was started,” Gram said.
The group eventually moved on from Sevilla. Gram recounted the CCC’s odyssey through a series of Fairfield County restaurants, most of which no longer exist. One name stood out from the others.
“Then we went to Bennett’s, then to the Boxing Cat, then to Bennett’s ... then we went to Vuli, the restaurant in the Marriott. We were there for seven years. And we were served by a murderer. We found out afterwards,” he said.
Convicted on murder charge
Gram’s deadpan account drew laughter from the table but was entirely true. A worker at the 17th-floor revolving restaurant, Marash Gojcaj, was convicted in 2010 of murdering his uncle and restaurant owner, Zef Vulevic, during a heated argument after closing one night.
As Gram said, the Carnivores did not know about the murder. They left Vuli because the hotel banned smoking.
The CCC went through several more restaurants — Chez Jean Pierre of Stamford a particular favourite — before finally arriving at the current fixture, the Waters Edge at Giovanni’s.
It was in cleaner air that Gram and Fritts got the gang back together for a special version of the monthly feast, even inviting TradeWinds for a seat at the table.
Gram’s welcoming toast recalled his years filling the same role at the annual commodore’s dinner of the Connecticut Maritime Association. There was even the 2017 commodore on hand: Jack Noonan, the ex-Chembulk Tankers chief executive who is a new CCC member.
Governor Ron DeSantis of Florida once called his state the place “where woke goes to die”. But woke might not make it that far if it stopped for a club lunch first.
With that said, the Carnivores do not spend much time talking about politics. It is strictly forbidden under club rules, and a member will politely shut it down if any is overheard.
We were also told that the luncheons are a place where “we don’t talk shop”. As for that one, we’ll ask a rhetorical question: have you ever been to a gathering of shipping guys who didn’t talk shipping?
On a lighter note, longtime members kept alive the tradition of sharing jokes, albeit some with a cheeky edge.
After all, it’s all in good fun, a tradition that’s endured for a quarter-century.
While the menu may have changed and certain customs faded away, the spirit of camaraderie remains, even as we’ve grown a little older and wiser.
