November 29th, 2007 ryan
Clams.
The delicious, slightly briny sometimes unsettlingly sandy bi-valves that beg to be consumed alongside their steamed, fried, or otherwise well-prepared brethren. I wasn’t leaving that crazy commonwealth until I had chowder digesting within me.
(from 11.24.07)
After chowdah came my first experience with “steamahs” here, which had freakin’ tablecloths. Apparently Lando gave the establishment his endorsement so who was I to complain. They smelt a bit like the elephant cage at the zoo but tasted just fine. NOTE: I didn’t use that infernal lemon. Stupid lemons.
Point of interest, didn’t Empire come out something like 27 years ago? How recently did Mr. Billy Dee happen to have a portrait of himself in such garb?
Lastly, mere hours prior to my departure, I had to go all out.
(from 11.24.07)
Clams, shrimp, scallops, crab cakes, smelts, and some sort of white fish. All deep fried to perfection. I haven’t eaten anything even resembling fast food in months so after this debauchery I felt coated knave to chops in a fishy, vaguely salty oil. Good stuff.
Posted in Boston, POTD, Sustenance, Travel | 1 Comment »
November 26th, 2007 ryan
If only.
(from bearskinrug.co.uk)
It was with mental floaties tightly fastened that I boarded my Thursday morning flight, for it was Thanksgiving and I was about to plunge deeply completely* into the waters of the kiddie pool that was my father’s side of the family. Not that this can at all be considered a bad thing. As a self-proclaimed uber introvert whose extended family was seen on average .5 times a year growing up I’ve never really been used to all that said madness entails. There are times, though confusing, that I outright enjoy it.
In years past we’d done a Christmas here, a Thanksgiving there. Heck, last year I finally attended the legendary Christmas Eve get-together with the in laws which I may have mentioned in an electronic utterance somewhere and followed up within 24 hours donning what are decidedly easy to refer to as “moose pants.” While not overcome in the sweep of voluntary hysteria that is The Holidays I can get behind an event that involves gallons of boiling oil, propane, and an ill fated bird.
Also of note, my aunt who is gracious enough to host “Disfunction Junction” from time to time is an excellent cook. I consumed no less than the meat of three different animals, 5 vegetables, and as many cakes and pies. Her soups are the standard by which all other soups are set to and woe unto He Who Complains, for He Shall Be Doomed with suffering not just Wrath, but Wrath served hot and cold over several aggressive courses. Of goodness.
Also… the mushrooms. My lord the mushrooms.
I’d wax critical of how… American the celebration of this holiday is as it’s mainly, you know, eating – and in America, but any excuse to realize how spoiled most of us are while tolerating our collective flesh and blood is a noble one in my book. Perhaps I’m just easy to please.
Besides, I like New England. I had fun, and there’s always Christmas around the corner to facilitate my calamitous oratory. I hope that most of us in this quadrant of the globe were able to realize that we are among the most fortunate wankers anywhere lucky to have even a burned bit of poultry to call our own.
—
I even managed a bit of sight-seeing, of which there is plenty to do out in Hahvahd Yahd.
I’ll comment later on the glory that is the fine cuisine of the sea, our friendly bi-valve neighbor the clam.
*yeah, deeply and kiddie pool really don’t jive do they
Posted in Boston, So one time..., Sustenance, Travel | 1 Comment »