A Day to Celebrate the Red Sox

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the Red Sox play well, the whole Greater Boston area is in a good mood. It was not surprising, then, that the whole city seemed to be smiling on Saturday, when the Red Sox celebrated their World Series win with a parade on land and water. The weather was warm and the leaves looked their October best- basically the perfect day in my most favorite city.

California, part 3: Big Sur

 

 

You guys. Big Sur. I can't even.

I flew in to California on Thursday. The Tuesday before that, I convince Sinny to drive up from LA. Neither of us had ever been to Big Sur, so we decided to drive down Highway 1 for a little camping trip.

Except that there was nothing little about Big Sur. It took my breath away. (Kind of literally- we went on some STEEP hikes.) Every time we made a turn on the highway, we'd see another stunning view of the ocean and the cliffs. When we were hiking, we'd be in the middle of the woods one second, and then all of a sudden, we'd turn a corner and the whole Pacific ocean would be laid out before us. It was just so BIG. I love New England more than anything, but things just don't exist on that kind of scale in this part of the country. The cliffs, the mountains, the ocean- this is the kind of place that the word majestic was invented to describe.

California, part 2: Berkeley and a Wedding

True confession: a little part of me kept expecting to see the Bravermans when I was exploring Berkeley. I know you'll be shocked to discover that I didn't.

I've always had this idea in my head that Berkeley was the west-coast equivalent of Cambridge. It's not. I would say it's more like Northampton, but bigger. There, I did all my favorite things in a city: I ate breakfast at a little bistro, I explored the Cal campus, I drank plenty of Philz coffee and then, at the end, I got to go to a wedding in a castle. I'm at that stage in life where all of my friends are getting married, and I have to say, I kind of love it.

California, part 1: Telegraph Hill

 

 

 

When you visit San Francisco, they tell you to walk up the stairs on Telegraph Hill. There is a reason for that: these stairs are kind of a little bit magical. You climb up and up and up, peaking into people's gardens and surrounded by green, and then you turn around and get a spectacular view of the San Francisco Bay. When I lived in San Francisco the year after college, whenever I got sad about missing the East Coast, I would climb Telegraph Hill and remember how lucky I was to live in such an beautiful place. Of course I would start my California trip here: it reminds me of all of my favorite things about my time out west.

The Fisherman's Feast

Festivals in the North End are one of the highlights of summer in Boston. This past weekend was the Fisherman's Feast, so when Manoli emailed to say that he would be in town, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to see some of my favorites and eat Italian food from a street cart.

There were a gajillion people there, which just added to the festive atmosphere. The temptation at any of these festivals is to buy the first food item that looks delicious, but we knew that the tastiest arancini and sausages would be somewhere in the middle of the crowd, so we pressed forward, looking at all of the stands before we made our decision. At the edge of the celebration, we found a stand that made absolutely the most delicious sausage with peppers and onions that I have ever had. We all got them, and we at them while admiring the Madonna statue at the center of the feast and being a little jostled by the crowd and dancing to middle-aged Italian-American singers, and they tasted like summer in a sub roll.

Lakes and Oceans

Anna recently wrote about how you are either a lake person or a beach person, and while I lean in the direction of ocean, I have a foot pretty solidly in each camp. Last weekend, Elizabeth and I decided to confirm that hypothesis.
 

We started the day at Devereux Beach. We loaded up on rasberry-lime rickeys, fish sandwiches, and blueberries, and mostly succeeded in dissuading the seagulls from eating our lunch. We read books and got sunburns and I jumped in the waves.

In the late afternoon, we traded ocean for lake. Chris joined us and we grilled steak and bread and corn and drank pink wine and ate the first tomatoes of the season. We jumped off the high platform and slid down the slide and watched the sun set.

I'm still not ready to make a commitment to one or the other, but any opportunity to spend a day in both salt and freshwater is a perfect day in my book.

Summertime

Summer is in full swing round these parts, which mostly means that when I'm not working, I'm doing everything I can to ensure that I am either swimming or eating ice cream.

When I was little, I hated summer. My birthday in August was pretty nice, and I liked being on vacation, but being hot made me so miserable that those other things just couldn't compare to more moderate temperatures in the spring and fall. Now, though, summer is my favorite. The heat is still a little uncomfortable, but mostly it's an excuse to alternate between swimming in every body of water I can and parking myself in front of a fan with a novel.
I'll take it.

Strawberry-Rhubarb

I am relatively new to the whole rhubarb craze. I didn't grow up eating strawberry-rhubarb pie, and my mom never stood over the stove, stirring a pot of bubbling compote. Instead, a couple of years ago, a coworker requested a strawberry-rhubarb pie in place of a birthday cake, and I instantly fell in love. Now, it doesn't really taste like June unless I've had a rhubarb fix. I like mine in all of the ways that food bloggers suggest- with a spoon, on top of greek yogurt, or over ice cream. For my mom's annual St. John's day/Midsummer bonfire and strawberry party tonight, I'm going to fold some into whipped cream to make a fool.

I don't really write recipes, but I happened upon exactly the right proportions when making compote the other day and I thought I'd store them here in case you were looking for a little taste of June, too. (And also so that I never run around my kitchen screaming about putting too much sugar in the compote again, too.)

Strawberry Rhubarb Compote

Frozen Strawberries (one bag of organic ones from whole foods- about a cup and a half)

three mediumish stalks of rhubarb, cut into 1/2-inch pieces

1/4 cup sugar

healthy pinch of salt

half a vanilla bean

Add everything to a pot with about a half a cup of water- just enough to make sure nothing sticks. Scrape the seeds from the vanilla bean into the mixture, then toss the pod in, too.

Cook on medium-low, stirring much of the time, until everything kind of disintegrates into strawberry-rhubarb mush. There might still be some chunks of strawberries; that's fine, just smash them with a spoon. Let it cool, then pour compote into a jar (vanilla bean, too) and refrigerate.

Happy summer, friends!

A Weekend in Vermont

Last week, I went up to Vermont for the most glorious weekend.

Chris, Betsy and I were going to run a half marathon, which we did in the 85-degree heat (it was a little messy and a lot slow), but mostly we just relaxed and enjoyed a weekend with our friends. 
 

Elizabeth likes cooking even more than I do, so we ate well. We also explored and swam in a river (it was FREEZING, and I was a little worried about getting swept away by the current). I took a million and a half pictures and read almost all of this book.

I feel like now that I've been on that trip, I'm really ready for summer to begin. I plan on swimming a lot, reading even more, and spending plenty of time on my porch.