An Ode to Boston

Because there is nothing more contrarian than a winter trip to New England.

Nothing beats walking in the snow to get tiramisu.

Brookline has officially become my favorite neighborhood in America. Beautiful mixed-density streets, calm traffic, great sidewalks and bike lanes, convenient access to the greatest transit line in Boston (green line), and a great amount of retail make for a very vibrant, unique neighborhood.

Flying up from the sunny southeast to Boston during MLK weekend seems like an odd choice, but I was here to see a classic Big East basketball rivalry game between the fighting Boston College Eagles and the Orangemen of Syracuse. The game was fantastic (Eags won!), but it was hardly the highlight for my inner appreciation of the beauty of Boston’s fairly unique urban setup.

The Boys of Brookline

Zaftig’s challah French toast is life-changing.

What is better than reuniting with the boys while they are fighting for their lives in the gauntlet that is ACC Men’s basketball? Obviously, an 8 am challah French toast at Zaftig’s Delicatessen. Not a far walk from where I was staying, this warm hug of eggy bread and crispy bacon powered me through the mid 30s chill of a New England winter.

While I mostly spent my time in Brookline either sleeping or walking, I did plenty of observing during the latter. Coming from a small town in the Southeast, lacking in sidewalks and interesting places to walk to, it felt almost alien to see moms pushing strollers, friends drinking (iced!!!!) coffee, and bikers traversing protected bike lanes.

The best part of Brookline wasn’t the Trader Joe’s bathroom or the Belgian waffle with ice cream in the middle, but the semi-legendary GM of Otto’s pizza - Mike. Sitting at the bar, eating a very fresh tiramisu talking about Carolina Hurricane hockey and New Years’s shenanigans like I was talking with a lifelong friend.

Otto’s Tiramisu was a nice nightcap to a wonderful weekend.

If you haven’t read my “becoming a local” piece, this would be a great time to understand why this hour-long experience resonated with me.

Learning to Be a Harvard Man

Duality of man in an image. The contrast between beauty and modernity is more common than you might anticipate.

After visiting one of America’s oldest antiquarian bookshops, I decided that a trip on the Red Line’s fancy new traincars would be worth seeing Cambridge, MA.

And what a train ride that was! Floating across the Charles River would probably be a lot more magical in the warmer months, but I certainly enjoyed it. As a College of Charleston graduate, I take great pride in our frequent designation as America’s most beautiful campus. That said, Harvard certainly seems like a great contender for the title.

A church built in the wake of The Great War, dedicated to those who were lost.

A series of grand buildings make up the beautiful Harvard Yard, which was teeming with tourists, guided tours, and a few college students going about their Saturday. While I was unable to see the Harvard Museum of the Near East due to it being a Saturday, I was able to encounter the Germanic Museum (which was beautifully bizarre), the Peabody Museum of Archeology (small but really intriguing), and the Harvard Museum of Natural History (worth the price of admission).

The dead to the coffin the living to the party!

In my training to become a Harvard Man, I learned that they played a large part in archaeological efforts in the 19th and 20th centuries. Specifically within the Americas. The piece above that says, “El Muerto al cajon y el vivo al fieston” really stuck with me. There is an idea I have encountered in some Christian traditions that we die twice: once physically and a second time when we are forgotten.

I talked a bit about this in my reflections on the supra, but I am seeing a small revival in the trend of familial remembrance and intentionally preserving that which we might otherwise lose.

While my time in Cambridge was brief, I hope to revisit on a Friday in prettier weather to get the full experience!

Eating My Way Through the North End

Seafood Risotto at Quattros.

My dad often says, “Christianity is all about food. Jesus was always cooking or distributing food!” And there is a great reason why food is so important to humanity (especially Italians).

The North End is Boston’s “Little Italy,” where you can still hear old and young speaking fluent Italian (not just Italian-American slang) and get the best cannoli this side of the Atlantic. Reducing a neighborhood to its culinary contributions may seem unfair, but nothing unites like a meal shared between friends.

A hot lobster roll at Boston Sail Loft that was truly worth the $39.

After college, I found it harder to make time to spend with my friends as we developed “lives” due to our work schedules, where we lived, and no longer being within walking distance of each other or our favorite coffee shops. The only times we could really make time to see each other was over lunch/dinner sometimes spread over a period of months rather than days or weeks.

Taking the time to enjoy both amazingly fresh food and the company of friends, I only share words with over a screen, reminded me how much I have to be thankful for even when life seems dull or uninspiring.

In a city that is often paralyzed between two worlds (the traditional and the modern), I found the moments of clarity in the ethnic enclaves that make Boston one of my favorite cities to visit on the East Coast.

…But it is still Let’s GO YANKEES.