It is daunting to sit down to author your first blog post. I suppose there’s nothing to do but jump right in. Let’s start with my most favorite topic: Travel!
So I just returned from a brief work trip to Boston. After having lived there for two years to attend grad school, I hadn’t been back since 2011. So, as Boston would, it welcomed me home with snow — ten inches of it. By some miracle my flights got through, and while I watched the lights get bigger, and the snow sparkle from above, all I could think about was what food I could shove in my mouth over the next couple of days.
After checking into my hotel, I hightailed it to Parish to meet an old friend. He’s attending a dual Master’s program at MIT (in other words: HE FANCY). Parish is a great, casual sandwich place. Well-known chefs from around Boston design a sandwich that appears on the Parish menu alongside their name. So, while listening to my friend’s plans to change the world, I wolfed The Bristol sandwich (Boursin cheese and béarnaise aioli? DONE), and drank a Sam Adams the size of my head.
I’m not nearly as good as Alicia at taking food pictures, so I’m afraid I can’t illustrate, but I promise, readers, I will try. I am better at drinking beer than Alicia, so at least I can cling to that.
Anyway, later in the trip, I reunited with one of my very closest friends. She and I met during grad school, and, as two parts of threesome, ate and drank our way through Back Bay and Beacon Hill (shout out to the Liberty Hotel!). She read one of my favorite e.e. cummings poems at my wedding. In case you don’t believe me, WE’RE CLOSE.
She was able to score us a reservation at the Beehive in the South End. I’d always heard good things, but never could catch a break and get a table. You guys, it’s worth the effort. We had several of the most ridiculous cocktails (I don’t like whiskey, but whiskey was the winner on Friday night), and shouted over the jazz band. I had the cassoulet, which featured a shameful amount of meat, that I happily made disappear.
It was cold in Boston last weekend, but once we got to Copley Square I forgot about all that. I don’t know if you know, but Boston is beautiful. So lovely. We stood there for a few moments together, while my friend let me gush and yell a little (ask anyone: I’m always yelling), and I did manage to get one picture. We ended up in some awful bar where our shoes stuck to the floor (because I am too old to wait in line for a hipper location), but it didn’t matter. I only spent two years there, but Boston is special.
And now I’m back. Just as cold (dare I say colder?), and almost as beautiful (German Village is eerily similar to Beacon Hill), but I do miss my old home. Want to tag along while I explore this newer one?