Dear Boston,
Can we be BFF? On my recent trip to your fair city, you made me so happy. Your subway system was delightful. Your people were nice to me when I stood on a busy street corner looking at an upside down map. You regaled me with your history, your beauty and your character.
But Boston, you won my heart through your food. Oh dear Lord, the food. You started big, with incredible crab cakes, shrimp, and a Boston cream pie of the likes I have never seen. My friends delicately pushed their plates away, saying they were full. But that would have been a slap in the face to you, dear Boston. I finished every bite.
Then, you wooed me with a tall glass of ale, and some Guinness beef stew. You know the way to my heart dear Boston.
At night, you beckoned to me with creamy ice cream. I know Ben and Jerry’s is not native to you, sweet Boston. But you served it with such gusto, that I couldn’t resist.
One morning you lured me to a crowded Italian bakery. You showed off your tarts and pastries, and won my heart with a flaky, buttery cinnamon roll.
And for my last meal, as I was mourning leaving you, you showed me your sophisticated side. You served me up a plate of chicken crepes of which I couldn’t even pronounce the name. And a creamy tomato soup that immediately attached itself to my hips and arteries. You’re smooth.
And your finale? A donut. At the airport. At every street corner, you called to me with your native son, Dunkin’ Donuts. I managed to resist until minutes before leaving. It was a sweet good-bye.
And in your capable hands, Boston. I leave my waist. Take care of it.
Love,
Brandy
(P.S., if you want to see more of my exploits in Boston, including a few actual pictures of historical stuff, go to my flickr page!)
