@ Coppa

It's been a rainy weekend in Boston and all I wanted yesterday was to snuggle under the covers and sleep.  Lo and behold, our tummies and cupboards were empty so David and I bundled up and went out for a late lunch at one of our favorite South End restaurants, Coppa.  Though neither of us were the least bit hung over, we still took the liberty of ordering the Hang Over 'Za (complete with bacon, sausage, prosciutto, potatoes and two farm fresh eggs... AMAZING) and followed it up with a Nutella Panino and espresso.  Coppa is a small-plate Italian restaurant.  It's a cozy and intimate space with a staff that makes you feel welcome and familiar.  If you ever go, I cannot recommend their pizzas, small anchovy plate, and oysters* with prosecco and rhubarb compote enough.  

Today is still cold and rainy and I'm taking the day to sort through books, clothing and stuff, deciding what to donate and what to ship to the UK.  I have a rule in my life where I purchase things only if I love them (I'm not a compulsive buyer, thank goodness) so parting with my possessions can be difficult because everything has been purchased with care.  Regardless, there are plenty of things I've had for years that I've grown ambivalent toward, and it's time that I let go and move forward.  What a scary and exciting time this is!  

*I'm not sure if this is always on the menu, but if it is and if you happen to like oysters, order it!  I think it makes a delicious dessert.

Day Drinking @152 Dot Ave

A couple days ago, David and I stopped in at Franklin Southie for an afternoon aperitif.  The sun was coming through the windows just right, making the space look bright and new.  I especially loved the shadows we cast on the brick bar and the way my Aperol looked like embers in a dying fire. 

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David and I sold all the furniture we put on Craigslist and are currently living in the worst kind of limbo.  Our dressers went to a skeevy guy who tried, but did not succeed in low-balling us, so our clothes are in piles on the floor.  A nice Spanish man took our kitchen chairs and we've since been enjoying all our meals in bed, and our books are stacked in tidy (and not-so-tidy) piles along the walls because our bookcases went to a sweet Australian woman.  Slum Castle is an absolute mess and I'm looking forward to the day when moving boxes arrive so we can start organizing our lives into nicely labeled cardboard homes. 

@ Sam's

The last few days have been downright beautiful here in Boston.  The air has been hot, the sun's been shining, and David and I have been enjoying lots of walks and open-air lunches. One of the challenges of a beautiful weekend in Boston is to find a delicious meal at a restaurant with a patio that isn't totally crowded, but lucky for us we know one of the best kept venues in the city, Sam's.  Located on the top floor of Louis, a small and beautifully curated local department store, Sam's has a roomy deck and one of the best views of the Boston skyline.  Contrary to what you may think about the fusion of high fashion and food, the portions at Sam's are always generous and the vibe is comfortable and casual.  It's always been one of my favorite lunch spots in town and it's the perfect place to watch the sun set whilst enjoying a crisp glass of champagne.

To avoid the chaos surrounding yesterday's marathon, David and I decided to keep to the outskirts of the city and spent a couple hours basking in the sunshine on Sam's deck.  My drink of choice was a perfectly proportioned Aperol Spritz which looked just as refreshing as it tasted and made my heart ache for Italy.  It was a perfect afternoon spent daydreaming in the sunshine with the man I love. 

@ Hungry Mother

 I don't know if you've caught on yet, but I love going out for drinks and/or dinner.  When I lived in Minnesota, where there is a rich coffee shop culture, I would park myself at one of my favorite cafes and do homework all evening long.  I'd usually arrange for a constant stream of friends to stop in and interrupt me, but when none were available I'd make new friends.  In 2006, I moved to Boston for school and was devastated by the small selection of coffee shops and cafes that catered to late-night (or all-night, in some cases) coffee drinkers such as myself, so instead of planting myself at coffee shops, I'd make myself at home on a bar stool.  I read books, edited papers, and wrote short stories at bars around the city and made a handful of new friends along the way.

After graduation, my habit of stopping in at a bar had become ritual.  Instead of going straight home to a tiny apartment after work, I'd stop at a bar for a drink or two and chat with whoever was around.  That's how I met David, and together we've become fixtures at a number of local restaurants/bars, but none more-so than Franklin Southie.  I've always been drawn to the idea of a Third Place and believe that having a hub- whether it be an athletic club, cafe, pool hall, whatever- where you can unwind and casually meet people is integral to creating a robust social life.  Without the Franklin, David and I wouldn't have nearly as many friends, but because we clocked in some serious time and have gotten to know the staff and patrons, we've made a number of lasting friendships with people we would never have met otherwise.  Doctors, painters, teachers, lawyers- until we started talking, we thought we'd have little in common with these people, but over a cocktail (or a couple) we've come to be great friends.   

Last night we went to Hungry Mother with a couple we met through a FF (Franklin Friend) and had a lovely time indulging in boiled peanuts, pimento cheese, and homemade pie (amongst other delicacies, naturally).   Through our conversation, I learned that families in the south will pass cast iron skillets down from mother to daughter and that some of these skillets haven't been washed in decades (fascinating!).  I also learned that having a filthy skillet is actually quite good and made a mental note to stop putting ours in the dishwasher every time David leaves it oiled on the stove top.  Through our conversation I learned about authentic Cape Cod Dennis Bracelets  and how difficult it is to get one.  Together, we ate slowly, laughed loudly, and happily got to know each other better.  

Being a social animal can sometimes be exhausting, but going out and meeting new friends (especially at Hungry Mother, which is YUM to the EXTREME) sure as hell beats sitting in bed watching TV- even if it is a really good rerun of Downton Abbey...

Gin Season

And here we are again, at the beginning of one of my favorite seasons- Gin Season!

On Sunday, David and I took a long walk through Boston.  Sunday was also the day of the annually epic St. Patrick's Day Parade in Southie, so we decided to stroll down the esplanade, through Beacon Hill then into Back Bay to avoid the crowds.  But reader, there is no avoiding the crowds on a stunning 70 degree Sunday at the beginning of spring,  and David and I were confronted with masses of sun-bathing lovers, families with strollers, and lots and lots of drunk people.

As you can imagine, the heat and crowd-dodging exhausted us, so along our journey we stopped off for refreshments (and to hide from the masses) at 75 Chestnut and Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar where we indulged in some delicious summery cocktails made with- you guessed it- GIN!  

Now, I'm particular about my gin in that I want it to actually taste like gin.  There's nothing more refreshing than a cold drink on a hot day that doesn't make your mouth sticky-sweet but also doesn't go down like water.  My go-to patio cocktail is a simple Hendrick's with equal parts soda and tonic served (and this is a must) with a cucumber garnish.  Although I prefer Hendricks, I'm always happy to substitute a crisp, dry gin like Plymouth, Beefeater, or Bols Genever if I have them on hand and want to feel a little more homey and simple.  If I'm not drinking Hendrick's, I will change my garnish to a lime, obviously. 

This spring I'd like to branch out and try some new gins.  In particular, I've had my eye on Breuckelen Distillery's gin ever since I watched the inspiring story of how they got their start over at Made By Hand and need to get my hands on a bottle.  This year, I'm going to try to stay far away from the G&T rut that usually begins mid-June and peters out when the cool autumn wind blows in.  I will make interesting, sophisticated gin-based drinks that are more complex but just as refreshing as my much loved G&T... Please, let me know if you have suggestions!    

Popping off now to dress for dinner.  My life is v. exhausting, haven't you heard?

(top photo: gin gimlet at Citizen, middle photo: David's absurdly large hand & a Hendrick's with soda and tonic at 75 Chestnut, bottom photo: rug and sun at Citizen)

Whiskey Sour

You know who makes a damn good whiskey sour? 

I wish I were at Island Creek Oyster Bar sipping a whiskey sour right now.  Alas, I have work to do and a big day tomorrow.

The secret to a good whiskey sour lies in a creamy, frothy egg white.  I'm a little trepidations about making them at home because of the whole egg thing, but I've decided it's high time I confront my fear and have decided that I will learn to make a perfect whiskey sour once I move to the UK and have lots of time on my hands.  I also feel as if the eggs in England (Eggland?) are of a higher quality than most places here and I'm less apt to accidentally poison myself with Egglish eggs. 

Anyway, happy Friday and bottoms up! 

@ Catalyst

Since moving to Slum Castle in September, David and I have enjoyed exploring all the glorious splendors that the Cambridge restaurant scene has to offer.  Last night, we stopped in Catalyst for a bite to eat and a couple drinks with our friends Coco and Tobi.  I was really pleased with the ambiance of a space, which seemed an effortless marriage between comfortable industrialism and environmental chic.  The food was delicious and the drinks were well-balanced and thoughtfully crafted. 

I started the evening with a drink from the cocktail list, which is something I rarely do, because the Toronto (rye whiskey, fernet, house bitters) caught my eye.  Though I thoroughly enjoyed it, I found it a little too sweet for my savory taste, so I ordered my staple: a Manhattan.  The drinks are a nice, manageable size (they refrain from filling the cocktail to the brim so you don't slosh it all over your dry-clean only sweater on its trip to your mouth- thank goodness!) and I ordered my first Manhattan with Old Overholt and the second with Rowan's Creek, after which I decided to drink my whiskey properly, i.e. straight.  Now, my go-to whiskey is usually Jameson or Blanton's, but the Jameson well had run dry and the bartender suggested I try something different- namely High West Silver Whiskey, an unaged whiskey that, as the name suggests, is silver rather than amber in color.  The initial impact of the High West was more forward than your typical aged whiskey and the taste was brighter and more refreshing (though the color may have impacted my brain to perceive it as such).  Overall I found it to be an interesting change for my palate and am looking forward to trying it again. 

I'm also quite pleased to count High West Silver Whiskey among my whiskey acquaintances because I've always dreamed of having a white party but have been perplexed as to what to serve my dark spirited friends.  Now I can still serve the whiskey drinkers whiskey (Silver Manhattans- yum yum!), while the tequila lovers and vodka sippers have their drinks, too!  And for all you wine drinkers, you will have to drink Grappa or Champagne at my white party.  Sorry, but rules are rules and last I heard, there is no such thing as white Pinot Noir.

Mom @ Marliave

On Monday night I took my mother to one of Boston's best kept secrets, Marliave, where we had a wonderful evening at the bar sipping delicious wine (I love that they serve The Sum by the glass), eating comfort food, and introducing my friends, Coco and Tobi, to my mother. 

Over the past five years, whenever felt in need of a home-style meal that reminded me of my mother's cooking, I would stop in for the Sunday Gravy (I cannot recommend this dish enough) and a glass of red wine at Marliave.  In college, my best buddy (and roommate), Brent, would meet me at Marliave for afternoon cocktails and $1.00 oysters (which they serve daily between 4:00 and 6:00 PM as well as 9:00 and 10:00 PM) before we walked down the street to our night classes at Emerson College.  Marliave is the place I took my parents after my college graduation because I knew it was the one restaurant off the Boston Common that wouldn't be crowded with newly minted alumnai still wearing their graduation caps and asking for a beer menu.  Marliave is a secret place, a special place, and I love it a lot.  

Before I met him, David spent a lot of time at Marliave, too.  He lived around the corner when he first moved to Boston and spent many long and lonely hours at the bar, as foreign single men seem to do.  I often wonder if we ever sat at that marble bar together, completely unaware that one day we would meet and change each other's lives forever.  But now I'm getting all sappy and romantic, which is my cue to go...

Xoxo

p.s. Tomorrow I am flying to Florida to spend a long and sunny weekend with my mother (we can't get enough of each other these days).  She and I are going to kayak with manatees, eat fresh fruit, and soak up as much sun as possible.  Additionally- and Irina, I'm writing this just for you!- I will be devouring the Hunger Games trilogy in all my glorious spare moments.  I've been staunchly against reading the trilogy because I'm convinced it will be terribly written, like many literary phenomena.   However, I've been assured by many of my intelligent friends that it's actually worth reading, which I will decide for myself soon enough, thank you very much.  WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY HERE IN THE POSTSCRIPT IS THAT I WON'T BE POSTING AGAIN UNTIL MONDAY.  Okay, that is all.

p.p.s.  I lied, that's not all.  I just wanted to take a moment to note how cute the tiny, rogue brussels sprout is in the last photo.  It just rolled away all on its lonesome and I took pity on it and took its picture.  SO CUTE.

Hotel Bar

Before moving to Slum Castle, I lived directly across the street from Franklin Southie.  Having a bar across the street- especially such a fantastic bar- is a wonderful thing, but it can also lead to a lot of hefty bar tabs, french fry dinners, and very late nights (they close at 2:00 AM).  After joining forces, David and I became a fixture at the Franklin, and we came to meet a lot of our dearest friends sitting on those bar stools.  In fact, we were there so often that our group of friends dubbed it the Hotel Bar; come 10:00 PM on any given night, a large group of us would crawl over for a 'nightcap', which was really an excuse to get out of our tiny condos and hang out with friends (new and old alike- we were constantly meeting new people at the Franklin).  It was just like living in a hotel- a hotel with a bar where the residents held court but also maintained a stream of visitors just looking for a drink and conversation to get them through the night before catching the first flight out of town in the morning.
 
Though we've moved away and only visit a couple times a month, David and I are still close with the staff and are always given a warm welcome when we visit.  We stopped in the other night for a quiet drink and light dinner and lo and behold many of our neighborhood friends were there!  It wasn't until that moment, when a group of neighbors who I used to see daily came over to chat, that I realized how starved I am for that community engagement now that I live in Somerville.  Though I've found my new home base  this side of the Charles, it's not frequented by the people who live directly around me (though, I don't know if I'd want to hang out with the people who live directly around me...) and I miss knowing my community as intimately as I used to.

When I move to London, location is going to be huge for where we settle.  I again need that feeling of community that I had in Broadway Village and I want to live close to a great restaurant with a solid bar that I can easily walk to.  The Franklin spoiled us with their close proximity and delicious fare.  I highly recommend you visit if you're looking to for a nice dinner at the bar and good conversation.  I'm sure you'll meet a character or two!

Breckenridge Distillery @ Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar

On Wednesday night (before our Tasty Burger incident...), we visited our friends over at Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar.  They were hosting some folks from Breckenridge Distillery for an evening of cocktails featuring their spirits. 

David and I drank delicious Manhattans with Breckenridge Bourbon Whiskey.  The high-rye whiskey was smooth and contained a hint of vanilla that lingered on the tongue and warmed the belly.  The folks at Breckenridge really seem to love what they do, and they put a lot of thought and hard work into each of their spirits.  I'd never had their Bourbon Whiskey before, but I'll certainly be having it again.

Later in the evening, we asked John (one of our favorite bartenders) to break out the tumblers so we could enjoy a glass of whiskey on the rocks.  He happily obliged.  (And when we say rocks, we mean one giant ice sphere- a slow-melting orb of ice that perfectly cools a sipping spirit and looks positively gorgeous in a glass.)

And that, my friends, is how you make a ice sphere!  Be careful not to chip a tooth...

Many thanks to Breckenridge Distillery for making such a fine spirit and thank you to Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar for being awesome, as always.