Since I'm up early on a Sunday with nothing much to do yet -- mostly because my throat is sore, and in the past few days my glands have swollen up quite ridiculously, not unlike some kind of slimy balloon animal -- I have a little time to update you on my adventures. Shall we?
Because this weekend isn't over yet, I'll just cover everything leading up to it. Neat n' tidy.
Zuzu: The Return
First, I'll briefly mention returning to Zuzu last Friday. Now I love dancing -- excessively so -- but I'm beginning to learn that it's a very inconsistent activity, and can change depending on the DJ, the size and nature of the crowd, and perhaps even that intangible variable of the night itself. After indulging in some crunchy falafel (ah-mazing) and listening to a pretty sub-par funk band at the Middle East (again, non-Boston people, it's a bar not the region), Zuzu was surprisingly (read: tragically) pretty dead. So we ventured to the much more conventional, top-40 type Phoenix Landing, also in Central Square. We danced. My friend found a friend. She left without getting his number, but then there was this serendipitous moment when we had left and she said, "It just wasn't meant to be." And then I discovered that I accidentally hadn't closed my tab, and we reentered the bar to encounter her new friend sitting right at the bar. She did get his number.
The title of this post refers to a similar story of serendipity that concluded later in the night -- this time to me -- but I won't really get into it in such fierce description as you're accustomed to from me. Let's just say my romantic life has been pretty non-existent lately -- mostly because I only recently (really) recovered from my last -- and there was a nice, broad-shouldered distraction from such. But the title mostly has to do with my new, happier outlook on things. I'm okay with me! Yah!
After rereading those two paragraphs, now thinking: I have a (bad?) habit of using more punctuation than entirely necessary.
Hm, that description was not as brief as I had hoped. Damn my verbosity.
Knowledge Is Power
The next night, my roommate -- who volunteers for the Not for Sale campaign -- invited me to a viewing of the documentary The Dark Side of Chocolate, which revealed some secret footage of child slaves working on cacao plantations in Côte d'Ivoire. It was actually very uplifting, in addition to informative, and ended on this note of hope; as in, we're going to get those damn chocolate companies and stop this. It made me think twice about buying from Nestlé. After the movie, there was a very lively conversation with the audience, and a representative from Fair Trade did a chocolate-tasting demo. Kudos! What a great, multisensory, thought-stimulating program. I bought a couple of cards from the Not for Sale table, and learned about their iPhone app, of which I absolutely love the concept. It gives the consumer more purchasing power in these matters by giving products a grade (A through F) based on just/fair supply chain practices. And it's mobile, so you can look it up right in the grocery store. Power to the people, yo.
E-I-E-I... ohh.
At risk of changing the title of this post to Stuff White People Like, I will now indulge in my newly discovered, now undying love of farmers markets. Last week my roommate and I finally made it to the Union Square Farmers Market, which I've been meaning to visit since it opened in early June. It was small, and pretty standard as far as these markets go, but still highly enjoyable. I went a little crazy -- I bought some dill for my growing windowsill herb garden, some colorful mixed greens and yummy snap peas in a carton from Drumlin Farm, and a Rutgers tomato plant (big, heirloom variety) growing in a large Dunkin' Donuts coffee cup. It's now on my porch in a proper pot, and oh am I going to make the most epic tomato sauce from that guy once he's ripe for picking.
My little herb garden, brought to you by farmers markets and Mom
Hit The Road, Kayak
My family has started something of a Father's Day tradition (as in, this is the second year in a row we've done this), in which we go out for the day on some body of water, kayak for a few hours, and then cancel out any calories we've expended by eating more than we should. This year, my parents, brother, and sister came to visit me in Boston and we rented a few singles from Charles River Canoe and Kayak in Kendall Square. I've never kayaked in the city before -- only through nature in a sort of appreciative way -- and man, was it a different experience. It's very surreal (and fun) to see Mass Ave, MIT, even the John Hancock Tower and other landy landmarks from the angle of the water. It was a beautiful day, too -- the sun was out (nothing like this gloomy weekend), and my brother and I both got kayak-shaped sunburns on our respective legs.
Kayaking on the Charles, ItHasToBeZachary makes a cameo
After kayaking, we went to one of my favorite dives on this earth, the ultimate guilty pleasure, the legendary Charlie's Kitchen, the Double Cheeseburger King. Of course my dad went into his typical appetizer-overload mode, and ordered way too many jalapeño poppers and buffalo tenders before our greasy burgers, but we let him on his special day. Deviating from my usual Guinness burger, I went with the BBQ burger off of the special menu, which inside was filled with (I shit you not) barbeque sauce. Heaven, greasy, deep-fried heaven. They also have a great beer selection, and I'm a little ashamed to say I tried Hoegaarden for the first time -- definitely my kind of brew.
My God, What Have I Done
Quite frankly, I am extremely surprised that I did absolutely anything that weekend. Because that weekend, my friends, corresponded with when I started my sweet, sweet, free trial of Netflix. Since then, I have accomplished precisely nothing that I've meant to, because there's always a TV show to watch. In addition to indulging in some old favorites (the Office, Arrested Development), I've gotten back into the BBC's Merlin in a big way, mostly because it's fixing the dearth of good-hearted, kinda bubblegummy, supernatural television in my life. The balance that out, I'm finally watching Dexter, which is so multidimensionally wonderful -- complex, great characters, has an intriguing storyline that's being executed beautifully -- it's really fulfilling my void for a great dark comedy that Six Feet Under (which I have been attempting to plow through over the past few months) just couldn't fill. But with Michael C. Hall as the front-man in Dexter, I keep having this sneaking feeling that Nate and Brenda are going pop out and make it terrible... Other than that, I'm excited to try out some new shows I've been meaning to tackle -- Angel, Battlestar Galactica, and Doctor Who being the frontrunners.
Take Me Out to the Ball Game
I'm not a huge baseball fan, but man, do I love Fenway Park. The design of the building itself is such a throwback -- accented with old-fashioned pointing fingers guiding spectators in the direction of their seats and food menus in endearing 1920's-style fonts. The food is phenomenal in its quaintness -- with the mighty Fenway Frank carrying the team. Pardon my webspeak, but OMG, a Fenway Frank with a pump of wholegrain mustard and a generous sprinkling of raw onion from the onion crank... I just dream about it. It's not even that it's an amazing hotdog -- there's just something about being in Fenway that makes it the holy of holies of Hot Doggery. Maybe that's it -- the atmosphere. If Boston sports constitute a religion, then Fenway is its St. Peter's Basilica. Although I don't share that degree of devoutness, it's still fun to observe Boston fans, eat great ballpark food, enjoy some time with whomever I'm with, and oggle at Jason Varitek.
What I meant when describing the iconic Fenway signage.
The always-epic Fenway Frank.
My sister and I went to a game this week -- my dad scored us some tickets from work -- and to bluntly switch gears, it was kind of terrible. Between four rain delays, and a pitching incident that was the stuff of nightmares, the Sox fell 5-1 to one of the worst teams in the league. Womp womp. It was still fun to spend some time with my little sis.
With all the rain delays, this was a frequent sight.
Yes, Another One About Food.
I should also briefly mention my excursion beyond the Boston walls to Vello's, American Pub Food Wonder of Westwood. Ever since seeing it rated on the Phantom Gourmet, my high school friends and I have been dying to go. After weeks of waiting, we finally made it last Thursday. In order to benefit from as much on the menu as possible, we each ordered something to share. When the food came, we divvied up our plates and engaged in some intense Iron-Chef-like judging of each dish. I have to say that this turned out to be an extremely fun way to eat with a group -- such camaraderie! Conclusions? Unanimously, get the meatloaf or the pulled-pork sandwich... and tragically even lobster could not save the lobster mac n' cheese.
Well then, I think that's quite enough for now... stay tuned for reports from this weekend, including (but not limited to) dancing in the street, visits from old friends, and (good gracious me) more farmers markets!
No comments:
Post a Comment