A Local’s Ode to Solitro’s Bakery
The Cranston icon closed its doors for good on August 18 after seventy-five years in business.
Image via Google Maps
Remember when we ate pastry and didn’t worry about cholesterol and carbohydrates? You went to the bakery and stocked up on danish and cinnamon nut horns without a care that your heart was happier with bran. Cupcakes and lemon squares were comfort food your mother stored on the cake plate in the kitchen for your after-school snacks. These confections, now deemed sinful, fueled my childhood, no doubt creating fat cells that linger deep in my adult cellulite. But who cares? Alongside the orange peel skin, I retain happy memories of the tasty treats reliably waiting at home, purchased at Solitro’s Bakery in Cranston.
It wasn’t a long trip from our Dean Estates home to nearby Knightsville and the corner where the stone front bakery stands. A white sign with an arrow in Hollywood bulbs pointed the way for the uninitiated. But it still was a detour from the supermarket where Mom did all her weekly shopping. Yes, in those long-ago days of the early ’60s, Almacs in Garden City didn’t have Italian pastry. But that wasn’t the only attraction to make her drive the extra mile. It was the Solitro family bakers who were ensuring the shop’s glass-fronted cases were filled with fresh pizza strips and spinach pies. Regular customers that we were, they greeted us warmly sometimes coming out of the kitchen to say hello. White bakery boxes were folded to hold our fig squares and Russian tea cakes, raspberry twists and apple slices. String quickly pulled down from ceiling-mounted canisters would efficiently tie the packages. We loaded the car, secure that the pantry was full, just as our stomachs would soon be!
This seventy-five-year-old institution closed for good on August 18th. All good things reputedly must come to an end, but few leave such a delicious taste in one’s mouth. Solitro’s was our go-to destination for the torpedo rolls that enclosed our submarine sandwiches. Italian Sunday lunches included their baked Sicilian loaf bought fresh that morning, and espresso were accompanied by their egg biscuits. While our childhood wine may have been watered down, we still could enjoy the treat of dunking a wine biscuit alongside the adults downing their Chianti. Solitro’s was part of our feasting.
Long before tiramisu became the fashion, we understood Italian pastry as cannoli and zeppole. The latter were a special treat pre-ordered for St. Joseph’s Day in March. While there are many variations on this southern Italian staple, Solitro’s version became our standard fare to which we looked forward as Easter approached. A kind of pastry doughnut decorated with custard cream, they are perhaps not meant for those on Ozempic, but nonetheless a delicious indulgence. How sad to think that next season, loyal Solitro’s customers will need to source these delights from some other bakery.
In July 2025, St. Mary’s Feast will pass by a different tenant on the corner of Cranston and New Hampshire streets. The statue of the Madonna carried above the red, white and green road stripe will perhaps shed a tear that her friends for seventy-five years are no longer there to honor her with sugary, savory concoctions. She won’t be the only one to miss this pastry shop. I am sure many join me in thanking Solitro’s for the baker’s dozen of happy memories celebrated over their cakes, pastries and breads. Nostalgia never tasted sweeter.
