A lot of our friends are just finishing law school. Most of them, upon completing the bar, indulge in some well-deserved slacking or binge drinking (or both) before recalibrating to life as a legal professional. My friend Leah, however, has been buying thermal underwear.
Leah is about to embark on a year-long court clerkship in Barrow, Alaska - the northernmost city in the United States (and most of the world). Barrow is 320 miles above the arctic circle, and according to Wikipedia, has the lowest average temperatures in Alaska - consistently below freezing from October to May. They have a nightly patrol to discourage polar bears from entering the town. Leah is moving to the tundra.
That couldn't be further from the experiences we had this weekend, literally eating our way through Boston and out to the seaside town of Rockport, where we ate the freshest (and cheapest) lobster lunch in Massachusetts. Like us, Leah's a fan of searching out unique and unpretentious gustatory adventures, so it was fitting that our farewell visit to Boston be a gluttonous tour of all her favorite spots.
The best breakfast in all of Beantown, if you ask Leah and her boyfriend Rich, is at Mike and Patty's in Bay Village. A tiny little corner sandwich shop, M&P's features an all day breakfast menu of simple but delicious fare cooked by Mike himself and a few helpers behind the counter. Our party of four ordered three of the Sunday special - an omelette filled with sweet corn, cheese, and tomatoes from Mike's roof - while I ordered (same as my last visit), the bacon and egg fancy with avocado, red onion, and spicy mayonnaise. With limited seating (i.e. one table), your choices are takeout or eating on the curb, which we did. Rich's office is just down the street, and he's not only on a first-name basis with M&P, he has an honest-to-goodness tab that they charge monthly. I can't blame him, I would be there everyday if I had the option, too.
From Bay Village, we walked past the Berkley Street public garden and its strange, elevated zucchini trellises on our way to the first annual Boston Food Truck Festival in the South End. Before our fellow New York foodies start salivating at the thought of Van Leeuwen, Wafles & Dinges, Asia Dog, and an army of taco trucks all in one place, it's worth noting that our neighbors to the north have some catching up to do. The food trucks here were more fair food than the tricked out, restaurants-on-wheels we're used to in NYC, but there were some standouts, like Grillo's Pickles - insanely fresh dill and spicy garlic spears that were more cucumber than brine. Conveniently located next to a big outdoor art/antiques/produce market akin to the Brooklyn Flea, the turnout was pretty enormous. We even saw fellow Brooklyners Erica and Stephen of Brooklyn Brew Shop peddling their kits and summer beer mixes. Is homebrewing as popular in the land of both Sam Adams and Harpoon Brewery? Will Boston grow to rival (or replicate?) New York's gourmet street food craze? Only time will tell...
After shopping at THE GREATEST and most gorgeous vintage store (in which I bought an adorable, blue 1950s bathing suit/romper for $20 that will likely never leave my closet), and duck-watching under the willows at the public garden, we made our way toward the ocean, walking through Faneuil Hall's long skinny food court and snagging some deliciously boozy lobster bisque on the way. The sea breeze was a relief from a long day in the hot sun, and we were in close proximity to the night's main event: a seafood dinner in the North End, Boston's Italian neighborhood, and home to Paul Revere and the Old North Church.
When deciding where and what to eat for dinner earlier in the day, Zach quickly pronounced a desire to eat as much seafood as possible. Leah immediately knew where to go, and Rich (who can't stomach much more than shrimp) agreed to oblige us. After waiting by the door for a table and reading the menu, we realized just how generous Rich's acquiescence was - a textbook hole in the wall, the dining room of The Daily Catch is literally in the kitchen, and the smell of garlic and steaming shellfish billowed from the stove. This was not fine dining, but we could tell it was going to be one of the best meals we've ever had.
The Daily Catch, or Calamari Cafe as is painted on its opposite window, specializes in squid. In addition to the standard fried calamari, the menu offers a "calamari meatball" - our waiter, the only one working the room, described it to us as 100% ground squid seasoned with fresh herbs. We ordered 4, as well as an appetizer of fried calamari, and Sicilian-style steamed clams in white wine and thyme. To start. Our beer (an Italian lager or a double malt) was served in plastic cups. I'll admit some initial skepticism about ground squid (wouldn't it be chewy?), but had I not been told what was in these meatballs, I would've assumed it was veal. Served in a reservoir of the house marinara, the meatballs were moist, tender, well-seasoned, and much more filling than anticipated. The fried calamari was insanely fresh and crispy, and the steamed clams practically melted in our mouths. And this was before the pasta.
Continuing the squid-feast, Zach and I had both ordered "appetizer" portions of the house-made squid ink pasta, in two of the three offered preparations: aglio olio for me (ground squid and olive oil, or "squid on top of squid") and puttanesca for Zach, with a rich olive tapenade, anchovies, and sweet peppers. Leah ordered the entree portion of scallops in red sauce--in addition to squid ink, the menu has a number of seafood pasta entrees that come in their seafood based house marinara, or an olive oil, garlic, and fresh clam juice "white sauce." Entree portions are served in pan they were fried in, which you can follow from the cook's stove, to your table, with only a few feet in between. All of the portions, appetizer or otherwise, were enormous. The clear table favorite, Zach's puttanesca was the only clean plate, while Leah and I both took home the bulk of our dinner, groaning in pleasure.
Reeking of garlic and the fry station, we poured ourselves out of our chairs with hearty thanks to the cook, waiter, and lone dishwasher--the three man team that runs the show--and walked directly across the street to the famed Mike's Pastry. A requisite trip for any Boston visit, Mike's is perennially crowded, with a line out the door that evaporates into an every-man-for-himself struggle to the front counter for fresh, impeccable cannoli. Leah, the seasoned pro, elbowed her way through tourists and their indecisive children to make our purchase, and we left only a few minutes later with our white and blue box of treats, to be eaten later when the squid and pasta coma finally wore off.
To be continued...
Mike and Patty's image from HealthyandSane.com
