Elsewheres: Nashville, TN

The thing about Wish-I-Was-There travel lists is that they never get shorter. Once the travel bug sinks its teeth into your skin there is no shaking it; you might scratch a place off of your list only to find yourself adding another ten. Just to share, my top three five are Paris, Rome, Venice, Istanbul, and Barcelona, but I also want to see Peru, Mexico, Argentina, Romania, Portugal, China, Cambodia, and Egypt (and even that is not a comprehensive list). And Iceland. Whoops. Tokyo, too.

Get my point?

I have been to plenty of places within the United States thanks to growing up with generous and adventurous parents, but there was one in particular that – until this June – I had always kept in the back of my mind: Nashville, Tennessee.

Traveling to Nashville was, for me, the completion of my Music Cities of the South trilogy. First, there was Memphis (I applied to a college there – the only one outside of New England – and therefore needed to visit), home of Sun Studios, Beale Street, and the blues. Then there was New Orleans (I attended a wedding that my now-fiancée was a bridesmaid in), home of Bourbon Street and jazz. Finally, there was Nashville (I had the good fortune to attend a conference in town), home of country music, honky tonks, and Second Fiddle. Only in retrospect have I realized this, but if you want to travel America, follow the music.

So now that my trilogy is complete, what can I conclude? Memphis had my favorite music and New Orleans had the best food, but nothing beats the downtown of Nashville. As a sum-total experience, the combination of endless live music, good local beer (Yazoo), and a close-quarter, safe downtown to cut loose in makes Nashville an experience. Like a full-immersion language program, Nashville drops you into the heart of Country Music Culture, never lets you forget where you are, and – with its fine Southern hospitality – smooth talks you into a sip of the Kool-Aid. 

You’ll leave wishing there were honky tonks wherever you’re from.

Getting downtown in Nashville is easy; it’s a relatively small pocket of blocks that starts with Tootsie’s and ends at the Cumberland River. Tootsie’s is an easy find. First of all, it is purple. Second, it is all over the promotional materials for downtown and it is pretty much always packed. Which is exactly why I avoided it, and exactly why I would recommend the place next door instead: the aptly titled Second Fiddle. I might be busting tradition (I am a known curmudgeon), but Second Fiddle is better and far less crowded, which makes it far more enjoyable. I walked into Tootsie’s, up every flight of stairs, made uncomfortable body contact with every crowd, saw that each floor was packed, and walked right out. It was a lot like being on the T, actually. Luckily for me, Second Fiddle was comfortably busy (there was actually a seat at the bar), and the music was good. I mean, it was real good. We’re talking Waylon Jennings covers that sounded like the man himself.

Whether you’re a country music fan or not, the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum is a fantastic and worthwhile visit. There is a wealth of American history seared into its music, and the museum works equally well as a history of the genre as it does part and parcel of Americana. It revels in showing you Elvis’s gold Cadillac and Patsy Cline’s outfits while explaining the origins of country music and its place throughout the course of American history. The museum is a feat of shared storytelling, the dream of country music fans and historians alike.

And lastly, there’s the people-watching. People in Nashville are cutting loose, man. They’re dropping $500 on a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots, chasing it with a ridiculously huge belt buckle, and polishing off their stay with dance moves that run the gamut from Dancing with the Stars-level choreography to Chris Farley’s “Fat Guy in a Little Coat.” But everyone – I mean everyone – is having the time of their life doing it. Nashville has an infectious happiness. But how could it not? It is a holy city in the Tao of Country Music.

So there you have it. Nashville has a coaxing charm that is propelled by country music and the stories it tells. There was a catchy joy in knowing I was watching a lot of other people’s travel dreams come true. It was so catchy, I realized that I had really always wanted to visit myself – as I said, this was the conclusion of my Music Trilogy. 

Like the ancient Greek sirens, Nashville sings a melody into the air that will draw you in. Unlike the sirens, Nashville has no strings attached – just good times.

Til next time!

Another Mustachioed Monument

This weekend seemed a good time for the next installment of mustachioed monuments. The Boston Comic Con is in town and it has inspired me to return to some of my own illustrations. Not only that, but just this morning the New York Times featured this piece by Anand Giridharadas on the virtual landscapes of art museums, and how some are using this web-structured appeal to create exhibits like "The Mustached Men of the Met." You can only imagine how affirming this was of my pursuits here.

Now, on to the details!

The clock tower of the Customs House is one of the most recognizable landmarks of downtown Boston. (See the views from the top here.) Built atop the original building – a seeming model of Rome’s Pantheon – the tower is one of the city’s tallest.1 Because it is, too, one of the buildings that greets visitors and residents alike from 93 and is located in Boston’s heart for tourism, Government Center/Quincy Market, it is one of the city’s friendliest. Simply put, there is something exceedingly historic, recognizable, and trustworthy about its architecture.

Which is why it bears the recognizable mustache of the trustworthy Randy Price, host of the Eyeopener on WCVB Channel 5. Whether you tune in or not, he’s always there to start your day. His is the mustache of Boston’s morning bustle.

Til next time!

1. Scott. "IWalked Boston's Custom House Tower." Iwalkedaudiotours.com. IWalked, LLC, n.d. Web. 9 Aug. 2014. <http://iwalkedaudiotours.com/2011/04/iwalked-boston%E2%80%99s-custom-house-tower/>

Saccharine Sanctuary

Doughnuts have always been a safe haven for me. If I learned one thing from my Memere, it’s this: In times of trouble, there is little that they cannot solve. I also have a long family history of visiting Wells, Maine – the home of Congdon’s Doughnuts. If ever my family wakes up in Maine and there aren’t enough buttercrunch doughnuts to go round, there is hell to pay for whoever picked them up. Testament to my loyalty – even here in Boston, I subscribe to the restaurant’s (very entertaining) newsletter.

Despite being late to the game (more trend-observer than trend-setter), you can only imagine my excitement at learning of UnionSquare Donuts’ march towards Massachusetts morning pastry domination.

Good Lord, they are delicious.

Getting them, however, proved to be an adventure in itself.

Originally, I wanted to make my first purchase at the SoWa Market – I think I wrote about this a little while ago – but they were sold out. Next time.

That next time was July 2, the day my fiancée and I moved, and we kind of thought it might be fun to greet our minions/volunteers/family with a delicious selection of doughnuts. You know, just some casual maple bacons, salted caramel bourbons, and hazelnut crunches – nothing too fancy. But that got scrapped, largely because I did a terrible job of putting things in boxes throughout the preceding days. Ugh.

This past Saturday, otherwise known as Beach Day, was also intended to begin with doughnuts. And, in fact, it nearly did. After sorting out all of the necessaries for getting to Revere (buying beach chairs, getting sunscreen, and of course watching Pioneer Woman on Food Network first), Miss Beantown and I found ourselves lost in Somerville attempting to locate Union Square Doughnuts, getting nowhere in traffic, and hunting down possible parking spaces, all the while expounding upon the amount of time being spent on a tense search for pastries when the beach awaited in all of its laid-back glory.

But then!  Then the skies parted. Shop in sight, meter pumped, mouths salivating, we arrived at the tail end of a very long line. Having made plans to meet a friend at the beach, we were forced to abandon ship. And we were so close. So very, very close.

At this point, by the way, I was quite the unpleasant pheasant, thinking “These better be the best doughnuts I have ever tasted.”

The very next day we returned to the place where this quixotic saga began, the SoWa Market. Knowing to get there early, we strolled right up to the Union Square Donuts stand and calmly – very calmly, like Val Kilmer calm – ordered some as if we had done it a million times before.

Worth. The. Wait.

These doughnuts aren’t just good. They aren’t even just really good. They are incredible. And we didn’t even find the maple bacons, salted caramel bourbons, or hazelnut crunches. Instead we stumbled upon vanilla bean, strawberry, and orange creamsicle. They were huge, fluffy, doughy, tasty, ornamented treats that were more than worth the wait.

Whatever you have to do, these are not to be missed.

Til next time!

Roman Style Pizza at Scissors and Pie

Not so long ago… OH MY GOD THAT WAS ALMOST A DECADE AGO.

Erm. Sorry.

At an earlier time in our lives, my fiancée and I spent some months apart for the very charming reason that she was studying for a semester abroad in Rome, Italy.

I made a lot of long distance international phone calls. When we talked, we talked on opposite halves of the day due to the time difference – I was usually on the PM side of things and she was early AM. To this day, I still wonder what the concierge thought of me calling at one or two in the morning local time, asking to speak with her. Oh, and we did not text. No, no. We used that archaic technology known as AOL Instant Messenger and letters (real mail!). In case you forgot (or never knew), AOL stands for America On-Line. Those were the days of the bitter end of dial up internet. And film. I’d share some of my fiancée’s pictures with you, but, you know… they actually had to be developed.

During her time in the city, however, she often raved about her incredible and inexpensive lunches. 

The way I heard it, Rome was a magical place where wine was cheaper than water, where the statues of the ancients would loiter everyday near modern café-goers, and where pizza was always fresh and purchased by weight. For reference, I was eating chicken patties.

Two of these are true of Boston, too. The Commonwealth Mall and the Common surround Bostonians with their ancestors, but did you know that there is Roman-style pizza – fresh and sold by weight – to be found in Beantown, as well?

Recently written up in the Globe, Scissors and Pie is one of Back Bay’s newest eateries [225 Newbury Street]. Stumbling upon it one day on a walk, we decided to stop in. Even before the first bite, I knew I would like it. The toppings were clearly fresh, the crust had the right (and visible) balance of crisp and poof, and the smell was just perfect. The true test, of course, was to come. What would my fiancée – so experienced in the art of Roman-style pizza – think of our slices? 

In short, she loved it.

Scissors and Pie is not a restaurant, it is a portal across the Atlantic. It is Star Trek teleportation and Harry Potter wizardry made real. Its doorway doesn’t take you to “another pizza joint,” it takes you to Rome. To me, that is priceless. Finally, we are able to share at least this small piece of that ancient city. For that reason, thank you Scissors and Pie.

Mangia.

Til next time!

SoWa Market

If you haven’t eaten from a Boston food truck yet (where have you been), and you are still curious (you’ll be glad you are), there are more than enough to try at the SoWa market [Harrison Street, South End]. Featuring nearly twenty trucks, the court does not want for variety. There are crepes, ice cream, burgers, Vietnamese sandwiches, sushi, tacos, etc. If you like it, you can buy it from a truck, and that alone is worth the experience.

 

Held every weekend, the SoWa open air market features some of Boston’s finest crafters, arts community, foodies, and vegetable farmers. A homegrown mix of vintage goods, fresh pickle spears, and pets on parade, it is a hybrid craft fair, flea market, and FOOD Network competition elevated to the nth.

My notables from this weekend included:

The best $6 sandwich you will find in Boston – not just at the market, but in the city – is from Bon Me. There is no substitute for a delicious toasted sub roll filled with Chinese pork and a spicy pickled veggie slaw. In the three times now that I’ve been to the market, I always say I’ll try something new, and then I realize I can’t bear the thought of not eating from Bon Me. Oh, and don’t forget to wash it all down with their fresh basil limeade.

Fiber and Water sells burlap wall art and pillow covers. Featured in Fenway’s West Elm [160 Brookline Ave] just a few months ago, they do Boston proud with a large line of city-themed prints.

Any place that caters to four-legged friends is a winner, of course. There was an incredible selection of leashes, collars, and other dog accessories. Naturally, many were Boston-themed, as well, so if you have been looking for that Red Sox leash and just haven’t found it, this is the place.

I wouldn’t know about Union Square Donuts, because they sold out two hours before close. But let’s be honest, is there any way you can go wrong with a place that sells Sea Salted Bourbon and Maple Bacon donuts? Maybe you’re like me, and you have already concluded that this is worth visiting the home shop [16 Bow Street, Somerville].

A few years ago I visited New Orleans, and I delightedly stated my opinion that the best iced coffee the world (that I have traveled to) has to offer can be found at Royal Blend in the French Quarter. Well, guess what? That New Orleans cold-brewing style and secret “elixir” has been brought to Boston, courtesy of moJo.

These selections are a mere sampling of what is available at the SoWa market. Head over there yourself to find out what your notables are. Between the food, coffee, art, and vintage goods, you are bound to find something.

Til next time!

Panda City, USA

We’ve all seen the ads. They cover the billboards on the way into the city. They are plastered up at bus and T stops. Commercials are peppered throughout our morning news shows and favorite evening programs. The Museum of Science has single-handedly transformed Boston into Panda City, USA.

Hosted at the Mugar Omni Theater, the film documents the introduction of pandas into their natural habitat, covering everything from their conception, birth (which will be difficult to forget, by the way), nursing, and… two words… panda kindergarten. There is nothing else in this world quite like panda kindergarten. Only the Puppy Bowl can approach it in terms of raw cuteness.

The real stars of the show, however, are the people who work with the pandas, and you would never guess what fills up their days. Would you reply to this ad listing? Full time animal worker needed. Looking for someone unafraid of smelling like a bear, dressing like a bear, and taking cubs from mama bears. Also, bear kindergarten. Okay, the first three points sound stressful and/or dangerous, but think about that last point. It’s basically Kung Fu Panda, but baby pandas.

Dream. Job.

That’s what this movie is all about.

As an alternative to a feature film, consider finding your way to the Mugar Omni Theater at the Museum of Science. If the runtime for Pandas: The Journey Home is concerning (less than an hour), consider this: if you would pay just under $20 for a two hour 3D IMAX movie at AMC, why not pay half that for half the runtime? Point being, if you look at it proportionately, your hard-earned money is being stretched the same distance. Also, as always, it starts with this:

Til next time!

A Tale of Two Bakeries

It was the best of pastries, it was the best of pastries.

When it comes to dessert shops, Boston is a city of cannoli, cupcakes, and fro-yo. While delicious, additional variety is always appreciated. If, like me, you have been craving a sweet outside of those three types, here are two (among many) wonderful and unique recommendations. 

Yesterday for breakfast I hoofed it over to Patisserie, a French bakery in Back Bay [257 Newbury St.], and oh man, the place is a wonderland of bread and pastries. Before your eyes can adjust from the outdoors to the incandescent lighting of the basement storefront, you’ll already be immersed in the scent of fresh baked bread. It’s like you’re Hansel/Gretel and you just walked into a store built of the goods it sells. I found myself wanting to buy it all – a pastry for now, a baguette for lunch, and desert for the evening.

Thunderstruck by the selection, I paced the display cases (probably babbling) for far too long before I left with a cup of coffee and an almond croissant. Can I just say something? The almond croissant was amazing. For under $5 you can treat yourself to one with a coffee, and I highly recommend it – I don’t think you will regret it, and I know that I will be back. Patisserie is a must visit.

Speaking of must visits, have you been to Japonaise, the French-Japanese bakery in Brookline [1020 Beacon St.] and Cambridge [1815 Mass Ave]? On record, this place is incredible and the pastries will astound you. If you have never had an anpan, it should now be a priority.

What is an anpan, you may ask. Simply put, it’s delicious. The pastry itself is a sweet dough filled with red bean paste. In appearance, you’d be forgiven for describing it as a kind of jelly doughnut, but there has never been a jelly doughnut that tasted this good. I think your taste buds will find that the two are incomparable. In fact, grabbing an anpan at the Brookline location has become a ritual to coincide with a weekend walk to Coolidge Corner. It, along with a small cup of coffee, can be yours for just about $5, and it will make your afternoon.

So there you have it: two amazing bakeries, each one highlighting a delectable pastry done right. 

Happy snacking!

Til next time!