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Guide to Boston
Today I have a GUIDE TO BOSTON on Bridget’s blog! I’m delighted have this opportunity. Bridget has approximately 3000 more readers than ED so it is an honor. Bridget’s an all natural mama who I hang out with regularly, and I always leave inspired.
It’s not a comprehensive guide, but it is a collection of the things I write, over and over again, in emails to friends and friends of friends and people I met once who heard I lived here. I will end up writing thirty comments at the bottom of other great things I love, but you just have to stop the buck somewhere with these things. ED needs its own guide to Boston, but until then this is it.
Enjoy!
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Shoe Shine
Boston is rife with cobblers, though not all of them are great. Cobbler recommendations are traded with enthusiastic tips or side-eyed-please-avoid. There are also a number of nail salons, at least in my neighborhood. So many, in fact, that I’m not sure how they all stay open. (are they selling something else on the side?)
And I love this idea that my friend* Ruth Meeter shared on instagram:
She said she never gets pedicures but can’t resist a shoe shine. Which is such a good point and money well spent when you’re talking about salt, slush, and winter mud. Pedicures are really the territory of summer, and shoe shines for the rest of the year? Have you ever gotten a shoe shine at one of those stands?
*actually we’re more like acquaintances, but I wish we were friends. So we are instagram friends.
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on my gcal
The Wendesday Chef, one of the cooking blog greats, will be at the Harvard Bookstore on October 2nd (Tuesday). I’ll be there, anyone else? Should we bring baked goods to share? (photo by xobreakfast)
The Smithsonian is sponsoring a free museum day this Sunday. All sorts of museums on there, and they email the ticket to you. We picked the Harvard Museum of Natural History. Can’t resist that old fashioned place. But the Great House at the Crane estate is also on there…and the Gropius House…
Also on Sunday, this fun yard-sale in Cambridge hosted by my friend who is an amazing stylist. I’ve always wondered how she’s managed to have the perfect thing for every shoot.
Looking forward to anything this weekend?
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stacked
This blog has been documenting many fun things of a carefree and cheerful nature in the last two months.
I feel the need to tell you that lately, I’ve been walking around muttering, “the luck’s run out.”
It all started with a letter from the IRS. How frequently do you get important information in the mail these days? Never? Me too. Surprise! This was one fat letter from detailing how many thousands (5+) Joe and I owed them from two years ago (when we ran the market as self-employed business owners). Of course if they’d called and asked us for the money when we first screwed up our taxes, two years ago, we would have had it. But now we don’t, not even close. Before you have a panic attack about your own chances at getting audited: ours was an easy screw-up. We did not pay self-employment tax for that year. I definitely cannot blame it on TurboTax, but I will say I will never use their software again. Too easy to slickly answer questions in a different way and think to yourself: “same difference. This is what the millionaires do, right?” I’ll stick with the paperwork, like my grandparents did.
Then while driving back from new jersey we heard the sound of an airplane engine and realized it was coming from our car. The muffler was slowly easing its way off the ol’ exhaust system, hoping to catch a ride to Mexico. We shimmed it back into place for awhile. But our mechanic rather pessimistically gives the ’99 Honda crv another six months or so before it needs a major overhaul that would be more than half the value of the car.
Then, last week at the playground, I lost my favorite jean jacket. At the time I bought it in high school, to me, it was really expensive. And it still fit and still looked chicly cowboy with everything, these 10 years later. How often do I make good buying decisions like that jacket was? Never. Do you have that very short mental list of things you’ve really loved, and lost? Me too.
I want to write all this down, and not think of it any more. Because once you start listing things that weren’t lucky, you see it everywhere. A friend once said to me, “things just always work out for you.” After she said that, I marched forth thinking yes! things always work out for me. And I’d like to go back to that, as unscientific and selfish as it was.
Of course I don’t tell you this because I think I have the worst life ever, plagued by flying gremlins who insert “worst ending here” whenever possible. But just to, you know…balance the picture? On the one side, here I am taking these great roadtrips, baking bread, getting tan, and leisurely eating grapes with Lux. But also, on the other, I’m an old worried wart that can’t let someone else have a jacket for a little while. And when you don’t tell people these things, you don’t have a chance for them to tell you the bad luck they’ve had lately. And then you miss your chance to say, wow, that sounds really tough too.
sincerely, Rachael
Photos by Paul Octavious, who is also fun to follow on Instagram.
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Weekends Away
This weekend, at long last, we’re meeting two of my high school best friends in New Jersey with their husbands. It’s my first time visiting New Jersey for vacation and I think it will be beautiful! The water is supposed to be warm, and the beaches should be empty. I hope Jenny brings her favorite Nicaraguan rum and I hope Grace treats us to Vegan gourmet. We found the place where we’re all staying through airbnb. It has a fireplace and bikes, and best of all: just a quick trip to the beach.
If you’ve never browsed airbnb.com, beware! The site is completely addictive. In October a friend is having a tiny wedding in the Hudson Valley, and we found a spot on airbnb for that too. A little cabin with farm animals. Before Lux I would have been like “um, animals in the morning? No thanks.” But now I booked it almost immediately after I found it. It also has a hot tub, Check it out:
This would never work in our tiny apartment, but I love the idea of renting a room in your home for passing travelers. I also think airbnb attracts a hipper younger traveling crowd than other rental sites, so it’d be a great way to meet new people. Have you used them before?
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Shiitake Mushroom Strata and Sophistication
I moved to Somerville from Michigan four years ago. Within two months of moving to Boston I got a job at a ritzy flower shop in a ritzy college town, Wellesley. My coworkers had been working in the flower business for almost longer than I’d been alive. They knew how to dress so the walk-in refrigerators wouldn’t chill you to the bone. They knew how to grab a pair of scissors and trim an enormous box as tall as me, just shippped from the Netherlands, down to size and fit it all into an enormous 10 lbs vase in minutes.
One girl I worked with was only a little older than me, but much more sophisticated. She could bundle better hand-tied bouquets than me, she’d worked for the same flower shop in college, and she was constantly giving me advice. When I wanted to make something delicious for a dinner party, she went home during her lunch hour and wrote out her favorite strata.
This was early into my season of dinner parties, before I was invited to many parties hosted by Joe’s fellow graduate architecture students, some in their early thirties, who knew just how many flowers and candles would look festive and just how much food to make. Before I learned that it was ok to be half done with the cooking, but take a break with the cocktails when guests arrived anyway. Before I learned you should probably have one bottle of wine per person. Their effortlessness seemed like trained skill, and I wanted whatever book they were reading.
Now I know you learn all that from hosting party after party, and seeing how it goes.
I pulled out that recipe she wrote down for me years ago for a baby shower brunch this weekend. The first time I made it, the guy who was actually throwing the dinner party went all Thomas Keller and disappeared into the kitchen making noodles by hand, after the guests showed up. So I pulled this out of the oven and everyone over-ate their cheese portion and drank too much wine.
It went much better with Sunday’s menu of baby excitement, mimosas, herb biscuits, greek yogurt, maple bacon, and fruit tart.
It’s a show stopper and always will be. It’s delicious because of the ingredients, not the work, so it’s more expensive but quite easy to make. Wish I could write it out for each of you and send it along on monogrammed recipe cards.
1/4 C. butter
1 lb. Shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and sliced (you can substitute cheaper mushrooms, but taste will tell)
1 French Baguette, cut into 1/2″ pieces
2 1/4 C. whole milk
1 1/2 C. Half and half
5 eggs
3/4 C. chives or green onion tops
2 Tbs chopped fresh thyme
3 cloves garlic-minced
1 1/2 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. pepper
9 oz. goat cheese crumbled
1 1/2 C. grated parmesan
1 C. grated fontina
Combine the chopped baguette and milk in a large bowl. Let it stand until milk is absorbed, approximately 30 mins, with stirring.
Melt butter in a large pan. Add mushrooms and saute until tender. Season with salt and pepper and let cool.
Whisk half and half, and the next six ingredients in a medium bowl. Stir in goat cheese.
Place half of the bread mix in a single layer along the bottom of the dish. Top with mushrooms, parmesan, fontina, half and half mix. Repeat layering with all ingredients.
Bake uncovered until firm in the center, puffed and golden. One hour at 350.
You can use whatever type of pan you want for this, depending on what would be prettier, or if you want more dense layers.
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travelogue || new york
I’m listening to saxophony jazz on this rainy day. The buskers we encountered over the weekend all seemed to be playing saxophone. Lux fell in love with one of them and stopped to wave at him every five steps as we walked away. He waved back every time.
We went to the MOMA to see the exhibit the century of the child. It was clearly very cool but we couldn’t read much of it because of the child. Instead we hung out in the courtyard. And we did leave inspired to buy at tripp trapp high chair. (and fortunately there’s a very informative interactive website, so I can follow up on all the stuff I saw.)
We “waited” for two hours for ramen at ippudo (actually, we left and came back, then snacked at the bar, then got a table). Do you have ramen envy? I did. It felt like all the foodies were talking about ramen. Maybe it was reading that first issue of lucky peach. Ramen restaurants make their own broth combinations, their own noodles, and suggest different toppings like soft boiled eggs. mmmmmm I’d love to go back.
Lux woke up at 6am every morning. Thus we went to a number of coffee shops. If you’re traveling on a budget, just buying coffee in different places is a fun way to tour. (pictured here, Gasoline Alley)
After following them on twitter for two years I finally visited the bookstore Mcnally Jackson. That bookstore is beautifully designed and thoughtfully spacious, despite being rather small. These people know the power of typography.
My second-to-youngest brother Wilson is just starting his freshman year of college. Can you imagine, freshman year in New York? Amazing. We shared fresh churros at an inviting little cafe called La Churreria.
Liege waffles with yogurt, blueberries and coffee from a Japanese cafe called Caffe Bene. They are in Time Square, enormous and have free wifi. It’s an interesting spot to visit—the cafe is styled almost like a retail space with hip library-esque decorations and nice light fixtures. And the coffee, just normal drip coffee, was really good.I used the New York Time’s free app the scoop to find a few of these places, especially all the espresso spots. I rely on Ashely’s Hither and Thither blog for all good NYC recommendations.
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Sharing Moonrise
I was milling around the coffee and snacks table at church a few weeks ago when I heard a woman about my mom’s age discussing Moonrise Kingdom. It was her first Wes Anderson, and she was gushing. “Oh, I just saw it too.” I announced, “So good!” She turned to me.
“Oh! But you’re so young. Did you appreciate it?”
I nearly dropped my coffee. Did I appreciate it? I, who nearly went on a Royal Tenebaums location tour of New York with my friends? I, who have watched his entire oeuvre, most of them twice? Didn’t she just say she hadn’t seen anything else by the director?
But she continued: “It reminded me of my youth. My young love. ”
Ah, she’s right. Perhaps I didn’t totally get it. Perhaps young Sam and Susie’s devoted love seemed cute to me, but not as quite as eternally true as it struck this woman. I noticed when we first watched Moonrise that our completely-packed-theatre was full of people of all ages, perhaps a quarter of them over 65. And it’s been fun having a movie to recommend to adults much older than me—I think everyone would love it but perhaps some might truly wallow in nostalgia more than others.
(fun side note for east coasters: it was filmed in Rhode Island!)
Jessica Hische designed the typeface for Moonrise Kingdom. Meaning the first time Wes Anderson dallied away from his first love of Futura bold, he turned to Jessica (click to see her url for the work. It’s funny). Joe and I briefly discussed what accomplishment Jessica could do next that would possibly impress us more. We couldn’t come up with anything.
Image by Adrian Tomine for the New Yorker.
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fudge brownie + espresso swirl
My friend and I tried the sandwiches from Frozen Hoagies, a food truck parked by Copley Square farmer’s market. I thought their truck might be the cutest one I’ve seen–it looked like an old dry cleaner delivery truck, with pink trim.
this photo mostly featuring Birgit’s cute flats…
The cookies were the best part, we picked fudge brownie. Next time I might ask for half the ice cream. It quickly turned into an emergency situation to keep up with it. (exactly what happened when we had ice cream sandwiches in NYC.) Ideally I’m a leisure ice cream eater, with many contemplative pauses. If Lux hadn’t been seagulling bits of my cookie every minute or so, it might have been calmer.
Whenever I have a chance to food truck hunt, I use the free app Street Food Boston. I love that it lets you click straight through to the food truck’s twitter handle, just so you can double check where they are that day. It’s tough keeping up with these guys without it.
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Pintos with Lux
She still doesn’t speak any words I recognize. But delight is her noisiest emotion and her palette has no expectations. For breakfast we can have oatmeal swirled with grated apple and heavy cream, or cold brown rice sprinkled with sesame seeds, or slices of roasted sweet potato dredged in lime juice and cilantro.
But it’s the lunches that I look forward to: at last they are the lunches I’d read about in my favorite food memoirs: lazy and slow with many plates crowding the table. My fellow diner has no compunction about being served from a pyrex from the fridge; and she loves to watch me trim and chop our food in front of her at the table. New ideas of simple combinations come to me as we eat, and I jump up to try them on the spot.
Inadvertently, it comes in courses. Begin with enormous slices of avocado and move to a plate piled with soft pinto beans doused in olive oil, bits of green onion and topped with a snowy layer of feta. Square of homemade bread, hers spread with olive oil or tahini, mine toasted and slathered with Justin’s chocolate peanut butter. We share gooey bits of camembert, spoonfuls of fig jam folded into greek yogurt, and tiny slices of strawberries, the red juice dying both of our fingers. A small plate of fluffy scrambled eggs and brown bits of potato. A sautéed pile of bitter greens with olive oil and slices of garlic. I chop up spoonfuls for her, wondering if suspicion of green things is inborn. It isn’t, she loves it more than the strawberries. Back to the avocado we go, for a final dessert slice. My kitchen has tripled its former avocado capacity—we eat the whole fruit in one meal, daily. She smears it in her hair as she eats, and why not? She has justified the ritual bath time yet again.
We look out the window, listen to the subway trains coming and going, and sip water. She loves to drink out of the glass. I watch as she eagerly sips and then lets the water trickle back out of her mouth, she looks thrilled with the experience. It’s quiet: our neighbors are at work, and the table in front of her has been stratified with everything we’ve eaten: all of it tasted, smeared, examined, and shared. It was a good lunch.
