Laird of the Epicurean Manner

"I was brought up on S.S. Pierce's groceries," remarked Oliver Wendell Holmes a century ago when a rival merchant sought the patronage of that autocrat's famous breakfast table, "and I don't dare change." A bulwark of proper Bostonian life for most of its 136 years, the haute cuisine grocery chain has long filled an epicurean niche in U.S. gastronomy. With its own coat of arms adorning a distinctive red label on canned goods, and the largest line (5,000 items) of privately packed fancy foods in the world, S.S. Pierce sells its delicacies not only through eight New England stores of its own but also through 3,500 distributors across the U.S. and by mail order worldwide.

Last week tradition-loving Bostonians could hardly believe the news. Stockholders of the family-owned firm had just agreed to sell it (for some $10 million cash) to Laird Industries Inc., a newly formed subsidiary of Laird & Co., the New York stockbrokerage and investment banking house. Though Laird plans to keep the famous grocery line -- and stylish manner -- it will install as new president and chief executive Roger D. Williams, 42, former executive vice president of Rheingold Breweries. S.S. Pierce President Wallace L. Pierce, 55, a great-grandson of the founder, will stay on as chairman.

Ostrich Eggs & Vanilla Beans. When Founder Samuel Stillman Pierce opened his first store in Boston in 1831, he vowed: "I may not make money, but I shall make a reputation." He made both, partly by provisioning Yankee clipper ships for ocean voyages and partly by coddling his celebrity customers (among them: John Quincy Adams, Daniel Webster). In later years, the company hired horse-drawn sleighs to deliver groceries when snowstorms closed roads to auto traffic, and maintained a well-drilled corps of salesmen who would phone housewives at appointed hours. They not only suggested menus but answered such arcane questions as how to cook an ostrich egg (boil it) or how to extract the flavor from a 6-in. vanilla bean (bury a 1-in. cutting from the bean for a month in a pound of sugar). Once when a hostess in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., complained that a case of turtle soup had not arrived, a Pierce salesman took an overnight train to deliver it in person -- just in time for her party.

Today, though the company shies away from such freak items as smoked whale steak and chocolate-covered ants, its goodies run the gamut from terrapin stew to mushrooms grown in Parisian caves and frozen coquilles St.Jacques in real shells. Its private brand of Kentucky bourbon is a best seller in New England. Despite its gourmet eminence, S.S. Pierce ran into trouble when supermarkets began stocking rival specialty foods to lure the well-to-do. Sales have stagnated around $35 million a year for a decade, and profits have lately dwindled to the vanishing point. Incoming President Williams hopes to beef up merchandising, tighten up controls on distribution, expand outside New England. All that makes outgoing President Pierce beam. "The market is there," says he, "if we get off our duffs. But we couldn't continue to carry the costs of operating alone."

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