The husband and I were recently in Massachusetts to celebrate our marriage with many of our East Coast family and friends. We had a wonderful time and everyone outdid themselves with the potluck goodies - thanks to all! My niece calls my husband 'Uncle Kool-Aid' now (because of his unabashed love of Kool-Aid and his tendency to shout "Oh Yeeeaaaahhh!!!" when he's feeling celebratory).
It tickles me that Derrick is now obsessed with all of my favorite haunts in and around Boston. After our shin-dig, he refused to leave my mother's house until we ordered cheesesteaks from T.C. Landos. After a huge BBQ dinner (courtesy of my cousin Jason, his lovely wife Etain and their extraordinarily cute Ryla), D insisted on grabbing fresh-made fusilli in red clam sauce from Pagliucca's on Parmenter Street in the North End. He also understands the wonder that is Mike's Pastry and how real eclairs are filled with pastry cream, not whipped cream.
I was able to get my lobster on at the Barking Crab - let me just say that $47 for a 2lb lobster is ludicrous when you're steps from the docks and market price is under $10/lb and the convention of using a rock to open lobster is hardly handy - but the lobster was everything I wanted. D had his first fried whole-bellied clams and was suitably impressed. Next time, I'm going to just buy lobster and eat it at my mother's house like a normal person.
There is one good thing about having a stranger visit familiar places with you - they really open your eyes to things you may have pooh-poohed as a local. When D first came to visit me in NYC, he opened my eyes to the Monday 20 cent wings and $1 PBRs at the Lion's Head Tavern on 109th and Amsterdam. I walked by this place every day on my way to work and never once went in before he asked if we could go. We still miss those tiny, crunchy wings.
This time, D was captivated by the Beantown Pub sign as our shuttle was looking for our hotel. In my former life, I would write it off as touristy sports bar and never go in. To my delight, they had watermelon infused vodka (unbelievably refreshing on that nasty, humid day) AND apple-cinnamon infused bourbon. I had to stop myself after three infused-bourbon and gingers.
(Side note on gingerale at bars: The further west you head in the US, the less likely it is that bars will have gingerale on the gun. I LOVE gingerale as a mixer and never had to question the availability in all my East Coast life. D, a long-time bourbon drinker, saw me drinking Jack-and-gingers at the festival where we met and was blown away by how he'd never thought of that combo before. Now when we go out here, we have to ask if they have real gingerale. Invariably the answer is "No, but I can fake it!" Once it ended in three bartenders making samples of their 'fake' gingerale for our judgement. Let me assure you - any 'fake' gingerale that involves using bitters does NOT taste like gingerale. Please let me just have cola instead. Thank you.)
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