Category Archives: Best of Boston

Best of Boston

Boston’s North End

Polcari's CoffeeThe North End is Boston’s Italian neighborhood.  Salem, Parmenter, and Hanover Streets are lined with restaurants and shops, all celebrating Italian culture, and more importantly, Italian cuisine.  I often go there on Saturday afternoons and, as I make my way from the cheese shop, to the fresh pasta store, from Polcari’s Coffee (where I get my spices), to Bova’s Bread, I am met with smiles and nods.  None of these merchants know my name; they call me figlia mia (daughter), bambola (doll), or bellezza (beauty).  Recognizing me as one of their own, the second and third generation Italian-Americans who live and work in this colorful neighborhood treat me like some kind of Mediterranean goddess.

Whenever friends visit from out-of-town, they always want to have dinner in the North End.  Then after some wine and good food, we walk about, as I point out the Old North Church, the statue of Paul Revere, and St. Leonard’s.  Afterward, we stop by a café for espresso and pastry or gelato.

Despite all there is to love about this romantic and magical neighborhood, right now is the best time to go there.  The Feasts begin in June and continue throughout the summer, but the Feast of all Feasts is the St. Anthony Feast, in late August.

Locals, suburbanites, and tourists come out.  Italians, Italian-Americans, and Italians-for-the-day line the streets.  Vendors sell pizza, sausage-peppers-and-onions, cheeses, zeppole, cannoli and pastries of all kinds.  But not to worry because whatever you eat while standing up has no calories.

Sant Antonio

Music and laughter abound as generations of family members celebrate.  As the parade makes its way down the old and narrow cobblestone streets, the large statue of Saint Anthony leading the way, balloons and confetti are dropped from apartment widows above.  The crowd chants, “Viva Sant Antonio!  Viva!”  The faithful stand in line, waiting to pin money on the statue as they offer a silent prayer.  It’s quite the spectacle.

The Feast of St. Anthony takes place next weekend in Boston’s North End.  I wouldn’t miss it.

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Best of Boston

The Staycation Vacation

Here in Boston, tourists abound.  I regularly see them taking pictures in the Public Garden, walking the Freedom Trail, milling around Faneuil Hall.  Beyond the city limits, they visit historic Plymouth and Salem, scatter all along Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard, and Nantucket.  Sometimes I see them struggling along our cobblestone streets with their luggage, but mostly they look as if they’re having a good time.

brownstone 020At the risk of sounding like “Trip Advisor,” Boston’s a great vacation destination with its rich architecture, abundant historical sites and museums – not to mention great seafood.  In fact, not long ago when friends visited for the weekend, we went on a harbor cruise and took a tour of Fenway Park.  And of course, we ate delish Italian cuisine in the North End.

My vacation is coming up and, this time around, I won’t be getting out of Dodge, but I’ll surely dodge the usual travel hassles, lost luggage, and second-rate hotels.  I also won’t end up more exhausted than when I started, and I won’t spend a fortune doing it.  Call me crazy, but I’m taking a staycation.  I’ll sleep decadently late, go to the Museum of Fine Arts, meet a friend for lunch, stroll through the Copley Square Farmer’s Market, get pampered at my favorite Newbury Street day spa, and spend the day at Singing Sand Beach.

No matter where you live, a staycation could be the ideal way to spend your leisure time.  I’ll bet there are some places you’ve been meaning to go – a day trip, perhaps – or a show you want to see.  Maybe go hiking or biking, or try that restaurant you’ve heard so much about but haven’t gotten the chance to try.

Remember, like Dorothy once said, “There’s no place like home…”

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Best of Boston

Just Add Ice

Last Sunday night, while most people were watching the Oscars, I was at a Boston Bruins hockey game.  What can I say?  Hockey is my favorite sport.  Ordinarily my brother’s my hockey buddy, but he couldn’t make it.  A friend was eager to join me, much to the chagrin of her husband and children.  We brought a sign we thought would surely get us on camera.  It said,  COUGARS LOVE BRUINS.Bruins Sign_CC We were, after all, women of a certain age.  And my Boys are wicked cute.

When the roving cameraman ignored us, a couple sitting nearby shouted to get his attention.  He shook his head and said, “Can’t show that during prime time.”  Meanwhile, another live broadcast was underway where at least a half-dozen Hollywood starlets were dangerously close to having wardrobe malfunctions.  And my sign was too risqué?  Seriously?

My B’s scored first, but their puck luck didn’t last.  Suddenly they were behind 2 to 1 and it grew uncharacteristically quiet in the Garden.  That’s when I overheard the dad sitting behind us explaining the game of hockey to his two small girly-girl daughters.  “How many shots on goal do we have?” he asked one of them.  “Hear the tap tap of the stick on the ice?  That means pass me the puck…”

He reminded me of all the things I love about hockey.  The sheer speed and perfectly choreographed chaos of it.  The rattling of the boards.  How watching a game clears your head and gets your blood pumping.

spoked BWarriors on skates, my Bruins play with grit and grace.  At six-foot-nine, captain and defenseman, Zdeno Chara is the tallest player in the NHL.  When we say, “don’t poke the bear,” we are referring to Big Z.  Patrice Bergeron is the league’s best two-way forward.  He played Game 6 of the 2013 Stanley Cup finals with a cracked rib, torn cartilage, and a separated shoulder.  It’s been said:  If hockey was easy, they’d call it football.

Win or lose, I love these guys.  Sunday night’s match up with Tampa Bay was a crucial game in the standings.  The final score was 4 to 1.  My Boys didn’t just lose, they stunk up the ice.  But no worries.  We’ll make the play-offs.   Just add ice.  And drop the puck.

Drop The Puck

POST SEASON SHOCKAH — My Bruins didn’t make the play-offs.  Instead, they’re off playing golf, and I’m rooting for the Blueshirts.  Go Rangers!

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Best of Boston

The Basement

Filene's Downtown Crossing

Let’s meet at The Basement on Saturday.

Wanna go down to The Basement after work?

These phrases were on the lips of Bostonian women of all ages.  That’s what we called it.  The Basement.

I am, of course, referring to Filene’s Basement, located on two floors beneath the art deco flagship Filene’s department store and cornerstone of Boston’s Downtown Crossing.

The Basement folklore was plentiful.  The Running of the Brides, so named for its resemblance to Pamplona’s Running of the Bulls, turned ordinarily polite young women into fierce competitors the moment The Basement doors opened, as they fought over designer bridal gowns offered at a fraction of their original prices.  And men would actually stand in line waiting for The Basement to open on the mornings of the semi-annual men’s suit sale.  But the outrageous bargains were only part of it.  Vintage Filene's Basement  A trip to The Basement could cheer you up on a rainy day.  It was as loud, as crowded, and as chaotic as Times Square on New Year’s Eve.  The Basement was pure joy.

The three-dollar Christian Dior bras I pulled from the depths of the lingerie bins were mine for the taking.  And the shoes!  I thought nothing of squeezing into incredibly cheap Ferragamos and Via Spigas that were only a-half size too small.  There were no dressing rooms in The Basement so I’d angle for a spot near a mirror then strip down to the Danskin leotard I’d worn under my clothes.  Some women were so intent on getting a bargain that they tried on their finds right over their clothes.  Others, caring nothing about modesty, were on full display in their bras and slips as they tried on a pile of potential purchases.  It was divine pandemonium.

In 2007, Filene’s Basement closed its doors for good and shopping has never been quite the same.  I’ll always miss the tradition and the spectacle that was The Basement.red poppy

 

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