My grandfather is a Red Sox fan. My mom always liked the Yankees over the Red Sox. And we all like the Blue Jays as a happy medium. But my grandfather really likes the Red Sox…
So I had to go see the Big Green Monster. That involved a scenic walk out Newbury Street, which starts out as completely unaffordable and as you walk west becomes more affordable. but when “more affordable” means John Fluevog as opposed to Chanel, you’re in trouble. Fortunately, it eventually turns into the Fenway district which is an art school district. Tons of students. Some 20-year old was hitting on another 20-year old in a Starbucks. It was cute. It was clearly also the place to be if you’re a 20-year old. I was just looking for wi-fi.
But after all these students you hit a giant park with lagoons and geese and weeping willows. And that turns into a giant community garden with over 500 plots, an apiary, a learning garden, and orchard, and everything my little urban agriculture-loving heart could desire. I wound through the plots and smelled the oregano.
Then Fenway. It was everything I dreamed of—big and green. And all set up for ball games and tourists.
Very cool to see once. I walked back along Commonwealth, which is a street with a shaded walkway down the middle. I also walked up to the water and looked out onto Cambridge. The water path is a great place for running and biking thanks to a bike lane. West of Commonwealth was Island Creek Oysters. They’re all about sustainability, knowing where each oyster comes from, and what makes it special. It wasn’t open yet or I might have slipped inside for a shuck or two.
All the way back to North Boston and Little Italy to check out Neptune Seafood. On the way stumbled upon Whisk at 351. Smoked cocktails, modern Italian, young, cool chefs, only open since August. Wish I had a another day here. And a bigger budget.
All the seafood and wine people I met said I had to go there. So I went for oysters. The rest of the menu is lovely, but expensive. And I had two other stops to hit up for dinner. Great service, very salty East Coast oysters, and my favourite Kushis and kumamotos from the west coast. I skipped them in favour of eating local, but after all that East Coast salt (I did like the giant, juicy Maine Pemaquids), I needed the Muscadet to cleanse myself.
On to sushi.
Sakurabana is supposed to be a very traditional, sort of expensive, sort of not sushi restaurant about 10 minutes south of Little Italy (by foot). I walked in and did not feel welcome by the sushi chefs. They didn’t make eye contact, and even at the sushi ar I was served by the waiter. The chef didn’t seem too confident about where all his fish came from, so I made a small order. The quality was very, very good, though, and I shouldn’t have been nervous. The rice was perfect. Not too vinegar-y, and with a tender, full texture. Not hot, not squished. The scallop was lovely and sweet. The yellowtail and toro also tender. They have “white tuna” which I think is escolar. It didn’t taste like low-quality sushi new-gen in Toronto, so I was happy about the fatty tenderness of that fish too. Then the test—mackerel. It was perfect. Not too vinegary to mask the flavour. Delicate. Fresh. I thanked the chef and left in search of cheaper sushi to fill out the meal.
Avana sushi in Chinatown. Chinese owned, but got great reviews for high quality fish. They had Alaskan salmon. The scallop was massive. The mackerel was also enormous. And the smiling chef let me replace a bunch of less expensive sushi in one of the sushi combos with more expensive sushi (uni, scallop, fatty tuna) for just $1 extra. One mango-avocado-salmon roll plus one avocado-cucumber-tuna roll to round it out. The maki were not impressive. The sushi rice was bland and squished, though the sesame seeds were very tasty because of the simple toasting.
The nigiri were huge and were fresh. The Alaskan salmon was better than (I’m pretty sure) Atlantic he sneaked into the maki when he thought I wouldn’t notice…
The maguro tuna (bright red one) wasn’t very good. Fresh, yes, but tough and thick.
The mackerel was way too vinegary. It’s everything not right about mackerel except the overly fishy taste. It was still pretty fresh, just not balanced. And that’s what Japanese do well. Here even when the fish was fresh, it was not great sushi. It wasn’t carefully prepared. It was fast and affordable. North American sushi. The white tuna had that petroleum taste of escolar (don’t eat too much of it, even though it’s tender. It’s toxic). He gave me an extra piece because I liked it, though. And the octopus was on the house, too. Unfortunately it was rubber. Enormous, but rubber.
Interestingly, this Chinese-Japanese place used the natural, yellow-white ginger instead of the dyed pink stuff, which Sakurabana used. Sakurabana had pickles and natto on their menu, but neither was homemade. This place the chef was friendly. At Sakurabana the chef only smiled when I complimented the rice. He asked if I’d ever been to Japan.
Well, that’s it for Boston. It’s been great. Might go say hi to Reuben and Marcus at Shojo before I sleep. Or drink some limoncello from the Italian wine shop. Then back to Montreal and work to do and deadlines to keep. But miles to go before I sleep.
…Miles to go before I sleep…
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