boston

Thoughtful at Cheers, originally uploaded by xoxoxoe.

I was born at the Jersey Shore. My father was born in the Bronx. We were, are, and always will be New York Yankees fans. But unlike a lot of my fellow Yankee lovers I've never hated the Boston Red Sox. A few summers ago we took a New England vacation in search of our Salem witchery roots and Boston was one of the stops on our trail. I really loved the city. Its history, its rough-and-tumble edge. We didn't see a ballgame, but we did lots of other touristy things. We took a ride in a swan boat, we went to the aquarium, we went to the Museum of Fine Arts. We ate at Cheers. We drove and walked around town. We had a lot of chowdah.

I've been thinking a lot the past few days about faith, and what we all choose to believe. Although I don't believe all the pretty Bible stories, I do believe that God could walk as a man, woman or child (even animal) among us and might even do that on occasion. Maybe even more often than we think. But when confronted with the sort of human disaster of the past few days, all those beliefs and hopes seem shattered. All I can do right now is think about the innocent people who are gone and the people who are still grappling with their injuries, and all the people who are helping them and hoping for them and praying for them.

I'm so very sorry Boston, that this has happened to you. That this could happen to anyone anywhere.

a very chowdah summer

I've been sampling New England clam chowder all the way from D.C. to Massachusetts.

The Jersey Shore version was a little heavy on the potatoes, but also had big chunks of clams (hey, it's da shore), so got a big thumbs up. Other samplings were less memorable until we reached Salem, which had a distinctly un-thick version - not bad, but not at all like any other N.E.C.C. I had ever had. Another bowl at another restaurant was the typical creamy sort.

At a snazzy Boston hotel I poured the soup, served in a small pitcher, over some buttery croutons in a bowl. Nice presentation, but very potato-y.

Tonight's bowl in Wethersfield, CT may be the best since N.J. Vacation ain't over yet, so the quest continues...

enemy territory?

For a die-hard from birth Yankee fan, taking a trip to Boston is no small thing. I am trying to not let my baseball and Joisey/New Yawk roots color my experience, but...

What the heck is with the driving in this town? The way in to the city made no sense. The roads—to tunnels—to roads was beyond confusing. Stop signs seem to be a rarity, or at least ignored, and traffic lights are non-existent. And this from someone who has mastered and even revels in driving in DC, New York, New Jersey and Brooklyn—not exactly an amateur.

I'm still befuddled by the preponderance of all things Dunkin' Donuts. It's actually hard to spot a Starbucks. And Starbucks and D.D. closed at 7 PM. On a Friday. In a major city.

???

On the up side, the streets, although their layout is a bit challenging, are extremely charming and very reminiscent of a European city. The aquarium was a blast. The Boston Common was also lovely and the Swan Boats were a huge hit for both young and old. My mom had last been on them when she was my daughter's age, so a family fun fact comes full circle.

And this was our first day here.