Tootsie Iovine-D’Ambrosio always made room for lost and hurting souls at her Reading Terminal Market lunch counter. Now she is feeding the hungry again.
For years, Tootsie Iovine-D'Ambrosio did what she could for the homeless people that passed through Reading Terminal Market. Now she is feeding the hungry at nearby St. John's Hospice.
Back when she ran her iconic Reading Terminal Market lunch counter, Tootsie Iovine-D’Ambrosio seemed to treat every warm meal like a warm embrace.
In the tight-knit world of the market, Tootsie’s Salad Express was more than just a colorful corner to grab a delicious plate of buffet fare. It was also an informal aid station. Amid the daily market din, Tootsie fed hurt and hungry souls who plopped down on a stool, while helping others find housing and treatment. She organized holiday jobs for teens impacted by gun violence, supported the market’s homeless outreach teams, and cooked bounties for charity.
A member of the Iovine clan, one of the market’s largest families, Tootsie made sure everyone knew how they could help.
“It’s impossible to say no to Tootsie,” said Elizabeth Halen, owner of Flying Monkey Bakery, and a past president of the market’s merchant association. “She comes at you with such a positive outlook you just want to get on board and help. It’s infectious.”
So when St. John’s Hospice, a homeless shelter, kitchen, and treatment center blocks from the market, was searching for someone to help with community outreach last fall, they had only one name in mind: Tootsie.
In her new role at the shelter, Tootsie, whose self-serve buffet did not survive COVID, is once again feeding the hungry, helping oversee special events and volunteer programs at the shelter’s Race Street campus.
Providing shelter for men experiencing chronic homelessness, day services for women, and mental health and trauma treatment, St. John’s has long met a critical need around Reading Terminal Market. Its feeding program serves 133,000 meals a year. St. John’s needed someone who could withstand the chaos of the kitchen, said Kris Jaeger, director of development and community relations. They also needed someone who could get new stakeholders to the table.
“Nobody has their pulse on the finger of the neighborhood like Tootsie does,” Jaeger said. “If it’s six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon, it’s one degree of separation from Tootsie and everybody you need to get something done. When you get Tootsie, you get 100% of Tootsie.”
The gala
Tootsie quickly recruited her old market pals, arranging for terminal merchants to prepare and donate all of the food for St. John’s forthcoming 60th anniversary gala in April. The annual bash represents a key fundraiser for St. John’s, which is supported through Catholic Social Services.
Gala guests, from donors and staff to residents and volunteers, will be feted to the tastes of the market. The menu will include roast pork from DiNic’s, jambalaya from Beck’s Cajun Cafe, corn dogs from Fox & Son, and smokey cheesers hot dog bites from Miller’s Twist. Down Home Diner, Iovine Brothers Produce, and Flying Monkey will be collaborating on a shortcake dessert, and there will be Famous 4th Street Cookies and Bassetts Ice Cream.
“I wanted to make sure I got a little something from everybody,” said Tootsie, who will be making chicken marsala and meatballs.
All Tootsie had to do was ask, said Halen.
“And that’s pretty much all it took,” she said.
A warm meal and a warm hug
Tootsie has been a friend to St. John’s for years. Her husband, Michael, worked as a truck driver at the shelter for 15 years, picking up donations. Tootsie, who often lent her voice to market memorials and special occasions, sings in the shelter’s choir.
In the past, Tootsie catered the gala herself, volunteering her services.
She didn’t hesitate when the shelter offered her a chance to help out full-time.
“It just comes naturally to me,” she said, before adding with a laugh: “And I don’t want to blow it when I get up to the pearly gates.”
Aside from the gala, Tootsie has been working to secure food donations and rebuild the shelter’s volunteer program, which slowed during the pandemic. Those are critical needs for a shelter often operating at capacity, Jaeger said, but still a place that makes a powerful difference for those it serves.
“The beautiful thing about here is that you have your own little space,” said Tyrone Finger, 57, who came to St. John’s nearly a decade ago, seeking a bed and drug treatment services, and now works as a resident assistant. “This place made me feel that people cared.”
Tootsie’s second life at the shelter makes perfect sense to market pals.
“The shelter needed a nurturing personality to deliver a warm meal and a warm hug — and Tootsie is the perfect person to deliver it,” Halen said. “It’s just the natural next step in her mission in life to feed people.”