Back in the 303

So the other day I found myself back in the 303...the 303 Cafe that is. A little diamond in the rough in East Boston, the 303 Cafe offers a delicious (and very affordable) array of Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. My roommates had discovered the place while scoping out the neighborhood for potential places for us to live this summer, and although we ended up in Cambridge, the 303 is still a quick ride on the 'T'. The remote location increases the appeal of the cafe. East Boston, being somewhat surrounded by water, is not a place where one would normally stroll around. That being said, the cafe has somehow made enough of a name for itself to attract customers from all over the city. Enough about the location, though, let's talk food. After a very difficult decision, I decided upon the Crab Cakes and Eggs, a Benedict of sorts. Two crab cakes atop a toasted English muffin topped with perfectly poached eggs and blanketed in just the right amount of hollandaise. The crab cakes were, according to my taste buds at least, made fresh with local crab and very minimal filler, meaning the cake was mostly crab with just enough bread crumbs/ mayo/ egg etc. to hold it together. You could tell by the flavor of the meat itself and the consistency of the cake. While the cakes could have stood alone as a meal, I do agree that everything is better under hollandaise. I am a huge eggs Benedict connoisseur and almost always order it on a brunch menu, especially if the restaurant varies from the original Benedict- for example, crab cakes instead of ham. But I always claim a restaurant's eggs Benedict is only as good as its hollandaise. And in the case of the 303 Cafe, they definitely passed my evaluation. The hollandaise was scored an A+ for consistency- not too runny, not to thick and the taste was nothing to complain about. Not too eggy, and just a hint of lemon. Just how I like it. The eggs, too, were poached just so the yolk was runny and the whites were not, which tied the dish together perfectly. Now I'm starting to make myself hungry...Needless to say (again) the 303 Cafe was a fabulous little restaurant in all respects. Remote location, cozy and pleasant atmosphere, and most importantly, superior food. (Did I mention their french toast is covered in Nutella and whipped cream! And they have beer on tap you cannot find anywhere else) I will definitely be returning, again and again, back to the 303, so stay tuned for more lavish descriptions of my favorite thing to talk about- food.

As if my day wasn't complete already, my brunch just had to be followed by an afternoon of football and beer. After the 303, we headed down to a little area by the water (Seaport I think it's called) and took in the afternoon at the Atlantic Beer Garden. The three story beer drinker/football watcher paradise was filled with Patriots fans on this lovely Sunday afternoon. Me being completely averse to all things Patriot (the football team, at least) I opted for soaking in the late summer sun on the top roof deck with a Blue Moon and a few friends. The place cleared out quick after the Patriots game ended (in a loss, if I may add) which opened up some inside tables for me to watch my Broncos. The entry level of the bar had twenty-something high definition televisions all showing football. And here I thought I already found nirvana in Boston (refer to ice cream blog above). And to complete my day, the Broncos were victorious.
I think I'll end on that note...CIAO

Rules of the Road (or Lack Thereof)

During my commute home from work today, I decided my blog about driving in Boston was long overdue. I seems that, by tagging your car with a Massachusetts license plate, you also become a part of an elite club of people who think they own the road. You come to notice after driving here three things: #1- Bostonians love to honk their horns; #2-No one (and everyone) has the right of way; and #3-Avoiding pedestrians is like a really dangerous game of Frogger. All I can say is thank goodness for brakes (and insurance!). Let me paint a little picture of my aforementioned points. A courtesy honk from the guy behind you letting you know the light is green is one thing. A completely acceptable use of the car horn, in my opinion. Up here it's a little different. In order to not get honked at you must go before the light even turns green. Or, for instance, if making a left turn without a green arrow, you probably will get honked at. If you're turning left (a completely legal and common driving procedure) and waiting for a break in the oncoming traffic in order to make your move safely, you have now become an hindrance and a bother to the driver behind you. They will express their frustration at you with a honk, and then they will promptly demonstrate how completely unnecessary the said honk was as they easily go around you and continue on their way. This leads me into driving lesson #2; no one, and consequently everyone, has the right of way. For example, if I did have a Massachusetts license plate, I would know that, in the aforementioned situation, I could have in fact turned left into the oncoming traffic. Yes, going straight on green technically has the right-of-way over turning left on green coming from the opposite direction, but if I somehow snuck in there they would have no choice but to stop for me. Example two- I was always taught that you don't have to stop when turning right on green. Here, you do. Because if you don't, the driver coming from the opposite way turning left on green will likely run right into you. There are no rules of alternation for merging on the highway, either. Whoever can go the fastest, wins! If you can nudge the nose of your car there, the spot is yours. Also, I don't think the memo about the illegality of blocking intersections ever made it this far east. Basically if you need to make a move in your vehicle, you make it. Do not fear other drivers. The are inferior to you. They will yield to you. As long as you are in your car, you are the rules are yours to make. However, if you are not encased by a 15,000 pound mass of steel-and-wheels you are now a very vulnerable subject in the driving through Boston equation, which brings me to my third and final (for today) driving lesson. There are many "Yield to Pedestrian" street signs and adjoining crosswalks throughout the city, but as you can probably guess by this point, these are just another thing for Boston drivers to not stop at. And if a pedestrian (heaven forbid) tries to cross in one of these crosswalks while a driver is anywhere near, they will get honked at and practically ran over. And, needless to say, they will still remain on the initial side of the cross walk. The said pedestrian must wait until a break in traffic and sprint across the street faster than Usain Bolt running for the Gold. In fact the only time a pedestrian can cross the street is when they take on the mind of a driver. The pedestrian must only cross in do not cross zones. They must cross at the solid red hand instead of the white walking man. They must find the most treacherous, crowded part of the road they want to cross and jaywalk across it. The car will yield to them. If my rant on Boston driving has gotten you lost, just imagine the most nerve-racking, dangerous, chaotic mess of automobiles and honking horns and you'll be in my shoes. But, lucky for me, my nanny job (for an adorable four-month old) ended up being too far to commute each day, so my driving days are almost behind me. Hopefully, I'll find a new job closer to the city, so I'll have a whole new slew of adventures in taking the public transit. But until then, happy driving and think before you honk. CIAO

Closet Space

It seems as though no matter how many drawers, storage containers, baskets, etc. I buy I still cannot fit all my darn clothes in my room. I think that's a sign from the unpacking Gods telling me I have too much stuff! My new deal: for every new thing I buy, I must give something away. That being said, I applaud myself for avoiding H&M today. For if I allowed myself to shop I would have had a lot of throwing away to do tonight. Another realization today- Target it approximately a 4 minutes drive from my house. And since it seems I cannot leave Target without spending approximately $80, my finances are really going to love that convenience (Ha ha). However, if I keep in mind realization number one (too little closet space) with realization number two (too close Target) I think I can save myself (and my bank account) from the bliss of Target shopping. And, I suppose I owe it to myself to check out some of the local, Boston-only boutiques. Speaking of which, while perusing the North End (aka Little Italy) I briefly browsed the racks of a little place called LIT. Extremely cute clothes, price range cerca Urban Outfitters = Must return when I have an income! And speaking of that, I will have an income starting tomorrow. I have landed myself the perfect little nanny job in Concord, Massachusetts. While I thought Boston may have been my segway into changing the world through my writing or teaching or something of the like, I am very happy with what I have been offered. And I am still changing the world, one diaper change at a time. And in my downtime I'll be able to start that novel I've been putting off...

Let me shift my focus onto the more serious things in life- Ice Cream. Not just any ice cream, the best ice cream in the world. Of course, it did not take me long to visit Toscanini's, a little ice cream/ coffee shop the New York Times voted "Best Ice Cream in the World." Toscanini's is also only about a four minute drive from my house, which may be more problematic than Target. The service was very friendly. I think the guy behind the counter let me try just about all of the thirty or so flavors...including Miso ice cream (think miso soup). Very interesting, but not bad at all. Anyone who can take a fishy, tofu-y, salty soup and turn it into ice cream is okay by my standards. After all my tiny-spoonful testers, I finally settled on one scoop of Coffee Graham Cracker Crunch and one scoop of Coconut. The coconut was a rich and creamy, nutty and sweet, with the perfect amount of shredded coconut mixed in. The coffee tasted of just-brewed java with crunchy bits of spicy Graham Cracker throughout. The two scoops were more than enough ice cream (although I licked my bowl clean) and it only cost me $5.10 (and I didn't even pay, thanks to my lovely BF). All in all it was a great experience I would recommend to anyone living in or visiting the Boston area. We also noticed a Brunch menu and a delicious array of coffee and espresso drinks, so I'll definitely return for more than just ice cream.

I also popped into the little cafe right next to my house today, just to take a look. And of course, walked out with a hefty lunch for me and my sweety. 2nd Street Cafe, appropriately named for it's 2nd Street location, offers a modest array of sandwiches, soups, salads, and even daily home-cooked specials. The sandwich I picked (typically) was called the Ten Dollar Sandwich and had everything but the kitchen sink in between two slices of fresh baked pumpernickel. Turkey, bacon, Dijon, veggies, yum, yum, yum. Their entire menu looked tempting. They also serve breakfast and a very affordable cup of coffee (I'll know where to go when I run out) so I'm sure I'll be back there too.

A friend and I once said, while traveling through Europe, that the way we see cities is we eat them. As funny as that may seem it is entirely true in my part. What better way to explore a new place than through their cuisine. I'm off to a great start in Boston and it's only just begun. Let's just hope I keep up the running and limit my ice cream intake to a bi-monthly basis.

That's all for now. We'll see where this next week takes me. Oh, and Go Broncos :) CIAO

New Beginnings

I have officially been in Boston one week now and I am happy to report that all is off to a great start. Although I was welcomed with a 'nor'easter' (or an East Coast storm, according to Wikipedia), the weather over this past week has been fabulous. Cloudless skies, sunshine, and a nice fall breeze. Perfect weather for my new running route along the Charles River, or the Chahles as the Bostonians would pronounce it. Apparently, the pronunciation of the letter 'R' is unnecessary here. My running route starts at my condo in East Cambridge then takes me along Memorial Drive which parallels the Charles River. The riverside pathway caters to joggers, walkers, bikers, out-for-a-stroll-ers, even rollerbladers. At a couple different points (Massachusetts Avenue & Boston University) you can cross over to the Boston side of the Charles. From here I run back the way I came, cross over again, then head towards home. Round trip it's about a 6 mile loop, but with sea level oxygen to breathe I feel resilient. After running at a mile high for 22 years, the air is so thick it almost feels tangible. Aside from enjoying the lovely end-of-Summer-weather, unpacking into my new condo has been quite the task. Translation- boxes everywhere and no where to put anything! The dimensions of my bedroom are seemingly impossible to work with, or so I thought until I found a little place called Overstock.com. I was able to buy a few skinny bookshelves for a very reasonable price, so in 5-7 business days I should finally have a place to put my belongings. I shouldn't complain too much, though. The anxiety I've experienced by not being able to unpack hasn't exactly kept me up at night. I'm not sure if I blame the comfy, queen size, tempurpedic, 600 thread count bed upgrade or the time zone change, but I haven't woken up before 11am this entire week. And did I mention the kitchen yet? Stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, beautiful cabinetry...I'm in culinary heaven. And the movie-theatre-size high definition television screen I have projected on my living room wall makes me feel like I'm actually at Folsom Field right now watching the Buffaloes play CSU (although I am unhappy with the 2nd quarter score). And as if these luxuries weren't sufficient, my French roommate practically force-fed me homemade crepes last night. With Nutella. Y-U-M.

Anyways, enough about the rough life I have been subject to- I have answers to the Bean Town inquiry I posed a couple weeks back. Apparently, back in the day, Bostonians loved beans baked in molasses. They were appropriately called "Boston Baked Beans." Back then, Boston was a huge supplier for molasses. I'm not sure if the surplus of molasses gave way to the beans or vice-versa but as the first month of 1919 came to an end, so did the molasses monopoly. On January 21, 1919 a huge vat of molasses exploded in the "North End" of Boston- actually killing 21 people. Which is kind of ironic because of the expression "slower than molasses is January." Nowadays, these beans are hard to come by but are apparently still remembered by the Bean Town natives. Interesting huh? I received my information from a couple different locals of Boston, but for support visited the FAQ page at boston-online.com.

Hopefully this week's furniture delivery (and the boxes from home) should allow me to complete the unpacking process. Once all is looking cute, I'll post some pictures of my new abode. My goal for this week- Tosconini's. Home of the New York Time's quoted Best Ice Cream in the World (and apparently nirvana). Until then, enjoy the last days of summer and embrace the beautiful fall that's upon us.