The Great Trek West, Part 3: Missouri

Otherwise entitled, "Mark Twain, the Berlin Wall, and barbecue."

I've spent the last few days holed up at my in-laws' in central Missouri, reunited (at last!) with my husband and preparing for the rest of the trek. I got the car serviced this morning, I've stocked up on road food, and we've got an itinerary mapped out.

(For those that are curious, the itinerary looks something like this: Denver, southern Utah--to include all the national parks there and Mesa Verde in southwestern Colorado, Salt Lake City, Portland, and then Seattle, over the course of a week. The weather looks clear, and I'm super-excited about revisiting Utah.)

But while here, we've done a little sightseeing, too. We went to the National Churchill Museum in Fulton, MO, where I got this great picture of my husband pretending to piss on a piece of the Berlin Wall.

We also visited Mark Twain's boyhood home and museum in Hannibal, MO. Hannibal itself is a dump, though the Mark Twain stuff was fairly interesting. We had a nice long drive through Missouri farmland, too.

And I've eaten possibly the last authentic barbecue for a while (I can't imagine there's proper Southern barbecue in Seattle, I've yet to find any outside the South) at Lonnie Ray's, a real dive in the middle of nowhere, but that doesn't matter, as they have a proper char on both their pulled pork and brisket.

We'll leave Monday for Denver, and hopefully arrive in Seattle by next Sunday or Monday. Stay tuned for the REALLY exciting part of the drive!

Pig head

The other night, I ate a pig head.

And it was one of the top 5 most delicious things I've ever put in my mouth.

A little backstory: Since I've got less than two weeks left there (eep!), I feel it's safe to disclose that I work at Craigie on Main, Boston's finest restaurant. One of their specialties is the pig head. Remember the pig head I had in Montreal? Naturally, I couldn't leave town without experiencing Craigie's fabled pig head.

I got some friends together and I went in on my night off. We got octopus, terrines, and pig tails to start; then the pig head and bone marrow; then the cheese plate and beignets for dessert. (We also had a lot of cocktails.)

Here's the thing about pig head: if you can get past the concept of digging your fork into a pig's face, it tastes amazing. It's fatty, meltingly tender, and the skin is super-crispy. Craigie serves it Peking duck-style, with pancakes, a boudin noir-hoisin sauce, and a spicy pumpkin sambal. The pancakes and sauces help cut the fat of the pork a little, which then means you can just shovel it into your face at a faster rate.

Here's the other thing about pig head: the whole thing is edible. The cheek, the eye, the snout, the ear. Everything. Cheek: fattiest part. Ear: like a great big pork rind. Eye: like a big gob of pork fat butter. I'm serious. I ate the eye and it was the best part of the whole thing. We stripped that thing down to the bone.

Not to discount the pig tails: like fattier ribs.

But I'm not used to eating so much rich, fatty food in one sitting, so yesterday I was suffering from a bit of a pork hangover (in addition to the regular kind of hangover). Which is why I didn't get around to blogging about it until today.

So, don't be scared. Eat the pig head. You'll be glad you did.

And feel free to use that as a metaphor for life, as well.

New job!

That interview I went to on Monday? I got the job!

It's the top restaurant in Boston (really, in all of New England). It has a famous chef (Best Chef in Boston, one of America's Best New Chefs), an eight-course tasting menu, a lengthy wine list that I'm almost entirely unfamiliar with, and a constantly changing menu. Working there will mean making a lot more money, but also working a lot harder. The training process will be intense--I'll have to learn everything there is to know about the menu, the wine, the drinks, then work as a back server while training to become a front server in short order. Plus I'll be driving to Boston, an hour each way.

What does this mean? Well, more money. Enough to make the commute worth it. It also means I'll give up my two jobs here in Providence. I'll be taking the next step up in my newfound restaurant career; I got hired for my brains, not merely my ability to carry a tray, and I'll actually be using my brains in this job. There's homework, quizzes, classes outside of work, you name it. This is not a restaurant that allows its staff to slack off. That's the most exciting part to me--that there will be learning, and intellectual stimulation, and people around me who value my brain.

It also means I'm going to be working A LOT in the coming weeks. Which is fine--my DH has been working his butt off, putting in 16-hour days on a regular basis, and I figure if he's going to be working that much in the coming months, I might as well work that much, too.

A new job?

On Monday, I took the train up to Boston to interview for a new job--an additional job, I should say. At Boston's top restaurant (well, New England's top restaurant); this place has a national reputation, a famous chef, a tasting menu, the works. I was invited back tonight for a working interview. If I get offered the job, I'm hoping to pick up some additional shifts there, while continuing to work here in Providence, at least for a bit. I'll make more money (enough to make the commute to Boston worth it), and I'll get the experience and exposure of working in a place with a national reputation. If my husband is going to be working all the time for the next few months, I might as well work all the time, too.

After the interview, I went out drinking with a new friend, and got, well, drunk. Good thing I was taking the train home. But it was good to be able to have girl time and blow off steam like that; it had been a while. We went to Drink, Boston's hot new cocktail spot, where I discovered they make their own ginger beer and had a Dark n' Stormy that blew my mind.

Things I've learned from working in a restaurant

1. No one ever pushes their chairs in when they leave. Why not? Were you all raised in a barn?

2. You can never tell who the big tipper is going to be. Last night it was a fat guy on a possible blind date with a very young, very sluttily dressed girl. (Almost 40%.) Last weekend it was the guy having a fight with his wife, who didn't touch his food. (Almost 80%.) The converse of that, of course, is that you can never tell who the crappy tipper is going to be. Chances are excellent it will be the old couple, drinking coffee with steak, who want to take the bread home, but not necessarily. I've had the old couple tip 12%; I've had them tip 25%. You never know.

3. You'd be surprised how many people get upset when they just waltz into a restaurant at 7:30 on a Saturday night, expecting to get a table immediately, and can't.

4. If someone refuses to eat the head-on shrimp "because they have eyes," they will not want to eat the bone marrow risotto or the beef heart ragu. Trust me on this.

5. It is low-class to order a burger, made with organic, grass-fed beef, dripping with caramelized onions, cheddar cheese, and Russian dressing, and then ask for ketchup.

6. If you don't like something, it really is okay to say you don't like it. (In nice restaurants, anyway; I'm not sure I'd try this at Applebee's.) We want you to like the food, to have an amazing experience. If you order something and it's just not what you expected, we'll make you something else and not charge you for the first thing. Really. Ditto for cocktails.

7. No one ever places their silverware properly when they're done eating, either. When you're done eating, you place your fork, tines down, and knife together at the 4:00 position on your plate. That way, I know to come over and take your plate away. If you put the fork and knife back down beside your plate, or on the bread plate, or over to one side, or you just leave your fork embedded in the food, I will think you're still trying to eat it. Again: was everyone raised in a barn?

8. Restaurant workers wear those god-awful ugly clogs for a reason. My back, and feet, were killing me all the time until I broke down and bought a $100 pair of god-awful ugly clogs, specially designed for restaurant workers. No more back and foot pain.

9. Restaurant food tastes amazing for primarily two reasons: lots of butter, and high heat. Our baked chicken doesn't taste like your baked chicken at home, because we can fire it in an 800-degree oven, giving it a particularly crispy skin without drying out the middle. Then we can melt half a stick of butter over it.

Momofuku Ko

On Tuesday, I managed to snag a reservation at Momofuku Ko in New York.

For those who don't know, Momofuku Ko is one of David Chang's restaurants, has two Michelin stars, and is consistently the hardest restaurant in New York to get a reservation to. There's no phone--there's only an online lottery for reservations, and since the restaurant only has 14 seats, and only takes reservations seven days in advance, the 14 seats that become available every day at 10 am are immediately gone. I've been playing reservation roulette with them for FOUR YEARS, and this is the first time I got lucky.

Amazingly enough, I was planning to be in New York on Tuesday anyway to see friends. So that worked out really well.

The food was incredible. There's no menu, you just take what the chefs--who are working right in front of you--give you, and everyone gets the same thing. You can choose a beverage pairing; my friend and I split one, and it was fine, but they charged us $95 for one beverage pairing which was almost as much as the food cost ($125). Verdict: not worth $95. (Mostly wines, a couple of beers, a sake, the best one was the first one, a huckleberry negroni.) Stick with the food.

They also don't allow you to take pictures. So no pictures.

Here are the courses, in order: (The chefs spoke quickly, so I'm sure there are key ingredients missing for each of these. But you get the general drift.)
1. Salsify puree with black truffle
2. A chiccarone (pork rind) with salt
3. Oyster with green apple and coconut vinaigrette
4. Fried whole shrimp with some kind of mayo
5. Shortbread with chicken liver mousse
6. Curry fish consomme with shrimp
7. Spanish mackerel with ginger pickled shallots
8. Gruyere consomme with brioche, bone marrow, candied lemon zest
9. A soft-boiled egg with caviar and chips
10. Ricotta cavatelli with fried beef tongue and horseradish
11. Trout with rutabaga mayo, panko, radishes
12. Shaved frozen foie gras with pine nut brittle and lychee
13. Duck with pomegranate glaze, braised pumpernickel, spicy greens
14. Some kind of crazy Asian citrus fruit sorbet with Earl Grey panna cotta
15. Passionfruit meringue, coconut custard, Thai basil

I couldn't even begin to finish all that food.

I liked the ambiance, too: very chill and casual, but with high-class food, and I got to watch the chefs work, which I really like.

Would I ever go back? Probably not, but not because I didn't enjoy myself--only because it took me four years to get a seat there. But you should definitely try for a reservation. The $125 is totally worth it.

Gracie's, Providence, RI

One of our Christmas presents was a gift certificate to Gracie's, a top restaurant in Providence. It had been a while since we'd had a real night out, just the two of us, having dinner, no one working. 

I'm happy to say it was a great meal. I let them know I was a fellow restaurant worker, on a rare night off, and they lavished me with a good table, an extra course, and a super-attentive staff. And I came away with the inspiration for pickled cranberries.

We got the full-bore seven-course tasting menu, plus wine pairings. (I didn't catch the wine names for the first three courses; sorry.)

First course: Olive-oil poached tuna with capers.

Second course: gnocchi with foraged mushrooms and rabbit confit.

Third course: foie gras! with sugar pumpkin and pickled cranberries.

Fourth course: bacon-wrapped monkfish with crispy leeks. Wine: Domaine Eden Pinot Noir.

Fifth course (no picture): sweetbreads, with quail egg and truffle reduction. Wine: Kermit Lynch Cote du Rhone.

Sixth course: duck, with duck liver and duck heart. Wine: Beronia Rioja.

Seventh course: cheese! With white port! I hadn't had white port in forever. I ran right out and bought some.

Eighth course: root cake (carrots, parsnips, beets) with a Broadbent Rainwater Mediera.

Yes, that was eight courses on a seven-course menu. Every once in a while, working in a restaurant pays off. 

The service and the food were all exceptional. I totally recommend it. 

Venda Ravioli in Providence, RI

My in-laws got me a gift certificate to Venda Ravioli for my birthday, Venda apparently being a Providence institution, in the heart of the Federal Hill Little Italy. (If any other readers want to get me something, my birthday is Saturday!) Being still new to Providence, I went to check it out yesterday.

I was expecting an Italian restaurant--and there is one--but Venda Ravioli is also a gourmet food emporium, complete with meat counter, cheese counter, and pre-made Italian yummies.

So, that gift certificate got spent in a hurry.

I got a few things I wouldn't normally get--dry-aged beef, veal osso buco--but I also got some standards: cheese, olives, cured salami, proscuitto. (Look for blog posts about how I use all this stuff soon.) Naturally, dinner last night was a cheese fest.

I'll be back for sure, and now that we're settled in to the new place, perhaps I can start exploring the city in my spare time now.

New Orleans: Cochon

And last but not least, Cochon.

This was our first meal in New Orleans and my husband's favorite. Cochon and I go way back, I've eaten there every time I've ever been in the city. (It was my second favorite meal of this trip, next to Patois, but Cochon will always be my favorite NOLA restaurant in general.)

The best way to eat there is to split a bunch of the lovely appetizers. Here's what we shared:

fried rabbit livers with toast and pepper jelly
fried alligator
fried boudin balls
pork cheeks with spoon bread
rabbit and dumplings
peach pie

Seriously, doesn't that all sound divine? It was, too.

One of the things I like most about Cochon (other than their devotion to all things pork) is that they have whisky and moonshine tastings. That's right, moonshine. As in that stuff that normally comes out of a Mason jar and tastes like paint thinner. I grew up in Virginia and I guess naturally assumed that all moonshine was illegal, since it was there--but it turns out moonshine, at least in Louisiana, is perfectly legal and in fact comes in a) flavors and b) actual bottles (not just Mason jars).

So I got a moonshine tasting, featuring--what else?--Virginia moonshine. Specifically, Virginia Lightning from Culpeper, VA, which ironically enough cannot be bought or sold in Virginia. I also had a cocktail with cucumber vodka, strawberry moonshine, and Barritts. My husband, having lived in Culpeper for a time and still being scarred from that experience, opted for the whisky tasting and proclaimed the George Dickel #12 the best.

Random notes: we both split a cocktail called the Swinekiller, with Hendricks gin, rhubarb bitters, and limeade. Our favorite cocktail of the trip.

Also, Cochon has opened a deli just around the corner called Cochon Butcher, featuring a meat counter and sandwiches. We got sandwiches to go on our way out of town and they were, of course, really good. (Their pickles are surprisingly tasty, as well.)

New Orleans: Coquette

We didn't actually have a meal at Coquette, but I'll make sure we do next time. We stopped in as we were walking through the Garden District, as a thunderstorm was threatening to blow in. We spent a lovely couple of hours lingering at the bar, sampling their wine list and artisanal cocktails and enjoying a lovely cheese platter and plate of beignets. What better way is there to pass a rainy afternoon?

New Orleans: Patois

Patois, I think, was my favorite meal of the trip.

Here's what we ate (in order of photos):

sweetbreads
grilled octopus
charcuterie plate
rabbit
quail
Creole cream cheese semifreddo

Along with a bottle of Emeritus pinot noir and a martini made with pickle juice.

Isn't that just, like, the most awesome menu ever?

Seriously, I love menus like that. The food was great, needless to say, but I really appreciate when a restaurant is willing and able to feature the more esoteric ingredients like sweetbreads and octopus. It means they're not afraid to tackle the weird stuff, and more importantly, that their clientele isn't afraid of it, either. (A restaurant wouldn't list octopus if no one ever ordered it.) And a clientele that isn't afraid to order octopus, is a clientele that is probably cultured, well-educated, and hip to good wines. Which means a) a great restaurant, but also b) a fun neighborhood to go out in and c) interesting people to talk to at the bar.

The inside was pleasantly casual, with two stories and a wood floor, our waiter was so accommodating it was almost funny, and the courses were perfectly timed. My only quibble is that we were whisked away immediately to our table, so that we didn't get a chance to linger at the bar. I do love lingering at the bar and chatting up the bartender, to see what he/she knows about their craft. (I tried that at Cure, only to be offered a drink already on the menu and then ignored. Great drinks there, but not the chattiest bartenders--which I wouldn't have minded, if we hadn't been the only ones there.) But that's a minor point.

Verdict: Go. Then go again.

New Orleans: Brennan's

Brennan's is one of the old French Quarter stalwarts, still serving turtle soup and bananas foster after all these years. We stopped in for their traditional breakfast, which was a) expensive, b) nothing but tourists, and c) really delicious.

I started with a baked apple in cream (top photo), accompanied by a "Creole" Bloody Mary with pickled green beans. Note: it's hard to find a really good Bloody Mary. I've had too many Bloody Marys that were merely vodka with tomato juice and maybe some Worchestershire--not spicy, not complexly layered with flavors, definitely not tasty. Brennan's is one of the very few Bloody Marys I've had that were up to my own standards. It was spicy, complex, and I wouldn't have changed a thing about it (except maybe the price).

(Speaking of prices, they had the balls to charge us $4.95 each for coffee and hot tea. Now, I can understand charging for the Bloody Mary. But really, shouldn't coffee come free with the meal, especially if it's three courses for $45 a person? I mean, come on.)

Then I had the Eggs Sardou, which is poached eggs in artichoke husks on a bed of spinach with hollandaise sauce. The eggs were divine, but that broiled tomato in the middle? Was a hard, tasteless, barely pink supermarket tomato. In Louisiana in the middle of the summer, and they can't get a better tomato than that?

Dessert was--what else?--bananas foster, flamed tableside.

Verdict: generally excellent. Too obvious they're catering to tourists with the breakfast, what with the high prices and charging for coffee and crappy tomatoes and all. Next time, I'll get breakfast at a diner--it probably won't be quite as delicious, but coffee won't be $4.95, either, and who needs breakfast to be a gourmet meal?

New Orleans: Bacchanal

We were only at Bacchanal long enough for a couple beers and a cheese plate, before heading off to Elizabeth's for dinner, but it was still fun. I love the concept of this place: retail wine shop in front, hang-out joint in back. The retail wine shop sells cheese and beer, as well; you can make your selections and then consume them in the backyard, which is filled with mismatched tables and chairs. Most nights there's live jazz back there; many nights there is also a guest chef, cooking up something hot and delicious.

Like I said, we were there in the afternoon, so I can't speak to the jazz or the guest chef. But just look at that great selection of beers we were drinking!

New Orleans: Elizabeth's

Ah, Elizabeth's. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

First, you are the home of praline bacon. Second, you are the home of praline bacon. Third, you are casual, hip, delicious, and cheap. Fourth, you have a bar and free parking.

Did I mention the praline bacon?

OK, I've visited Elizabeth's before, and had the praline bacon, and the New York Times has written about them, and blah blah blah. We went back for dinner with my sister and her husband and you know what? Still delicious.

Unfortunately, I did not order the most delicious thing at the table (my brother-in-law did), which was the andouille-and-shrimp crusted drum. I had the fried green tomatoes and the soft-shell crab stuffed with crab, which was lovely, but covered with a Sriracha-based sauce that was so hot it overpowered the delicacy of the crab (deep-fried though it was). Also ordered: the scallops and the rib-eye. No disappointments.

Also, there was praline bacon.

New Orleans: Bayona

We had an excellent lunch at Bayona (chef/owner Susan Spicer is, btw, one of the food consultants for my new favorite TV show, "Treme" on HBO). Not sure it was worth the price, but lovely nonetheless.

The best part of the whole meal was the pork belly salad with watermelon (top picture). Pork belly with watermelon, avocado, red onion, arugula, and a balsamic thingey. Really, really delicious, and one of the better salads I've had in recent memory.

Next came scallops with crawfish dirty rice. Dirty rice is traditionally made with chicken livers, but here gone uptown with crawfish. Also yummy, though it only had two scallops.

Dessert was a lemon-lavendar semifreddo with a rolled almond cookie thing. I also had a cucumber julep.

So, the takeaway: go for the pork belly salad. Have two, in fact. I think I will add "scallops with crawfish dirty rice" to my home cooking rotation, to ensure I get more than two scallops, so that's a win in the "recipes for later" department.

New Orleans: Crescent Pie & Sausage

This was one of my favorites. We stopped in for a late lunch with my family; I wish we could have spent more time there.

Crescent Pie & Sausage makes their own boudin. That in itself is enough reason to stop by, but they also make a variety of other sausages. And they have a great bar--a lot of craft cocktails and infusions, rare beers, that sort of thing. In short, right up my alley.

I had the homemade boudin and merguez (lamb sausage) along with their housemade parmesan-and-truffle-oil chips. Wins all the way around. I also tried their bacon-infused-bourbon Manhattan, complete with bacon garnish, but I couldn't pick out any overt bacon-y-ness. A little smokiness, but nothing that was like "hey! bacon!"

But a minor point. I loved the rest of their menu, I'd really like to go back one day and sample more.

New Orleans: Acme Oyster Bar

Different kinds of oysters taste different.

This may seem obvious, but you'd be surprised how many people think an oyster is an oyster is an oyster. Case in point: ocean oysters vs. Gulf of Mexico oysters vs. Chesapeake Bay oysters.

(Note: these taste differences are only really apparent when you're eating them raw. If you're not eating them raw, well, you might as well be eating fish sticks.)

Ocean oysters (and yes, there are differences between Pacific and Atlantic oysters) are dense, pale, meaty, and taste like the ocean. Ideally, anyway. Like a faintly sweet mouthful of ocean water. These are the best.

Chesapeake Bay oysters (what I grew up on) are smaller, browner, and not very briny at all. They taste more like a mouthful of seafood; sweeter than ocean oysters. (But "sweet" in an oyster way, not in a dessert way.)

So while in Louisiana, I decided to get some Gulf oysters at Acme Oyster Bar.

I was disappointed.

Now, I know it's not oyster season. (You're only supposed to eat oysters in months with an "R" in them, because during the summer they put all their energy into reproduction and not into tasting good.) But hey, these were fresh, right out of the Gulf that morning, so I gave them a shot.

They were brown. Not oyster-colored. Brown.

And they tasted like mud.

Not like the ocean. Or like seafood. Or even really like an oyster. Just like mud.

Fortunately I was able to eat a crawfish po' boy instead.

Anyway, I still highly recommend eating raw oysters. Just stick to ocean oysters, and preferably cold-water oceans at that. (Maine/Massachusetts/maritime Canada/Washington State produce the best and most delicious oysters.)

Acme Oyster Bar itself is a bit of a tourist trap, as evidenced by the huge line of tourists at the front door waiting for seats starting at 5 pm. Go in the off-hours, sit at the bar, drink some Abita beer, and watch the oyster shuckers first-hand. If the oysters look muddy, get the crawfish po' boy instead.

New Orleans: The Joint

I ate at a lot of restaurants in New Orleans. Fancy places, oyster bars, gastropubs, you name it. But one of our favorite meals was the most unlikely one, at a hole in the wall in a questionable neighborhood.

On our last night, we went to Vaughan's to see Kermit Ruffins play. We were there for the better part of two hours before we learned he wasn't actually playing that night. And Vaughan's isn't a bar you'd go to for any other reason. It was smoky, grimy, cash only, and the building looked like it would fall apart with a strong wind. You had to be buzzed in, for goodness' sake, you couldn't even just walk right in. Anyway, disappointed, I didn't want to have wasted the cab ride all the way out to the edge of the Ninth Ward (yes, that Ninth Ward), so we decided to walk two blocks down to The Joint for a second dinner.

My sister had recommended this place; otherwise it would never have occurred to me to go inside. This building was similarly ramshackle, with a bunch of mismatched chairs out front, with an open dumpster to the side, with empty 40s of malt liquor scattered around. Classy. But man, it smelled good. So we went inside to tackle the barbecue.

Best. Barbecue. Ever.

And I don't say that lightly, having lived (briefly) in Memphis. I had the ribs, my husband had the pulled pork, we both got Abita beers and ate until we were sweating barbecue sauce. Then I got a piece of homemade peanut butter pie to go (I had it for breakfast the next morning), only because I was too full to eat it there. The ribs were tender, juicy, and I had to debate for a couple of days whether I liked them better than the dry rub ribs at Rendezvous, but eventually these won. Cheaper, too.

So if you're going to New Orleans, go to The Joint. Eat the barbecue. Ignore the neighborhood. If you're there on a Thursday night, go to Vaughan's and see if Kermit Ruffins is playing. Otherwise, go to Bacchanal and see what they have going on. But go.

That old Boston standby, Legal Seafoods

It rained all last weekend, so I couldn't get any yardwork/gardening done. Having no other plans, I was a little stir-crazy, so eventually my husband and I decided to go out.

Normally, "going out" is an event, budgeted and planned ahead. This is perhaps the first time in our marriage when we've had the money to even consider "going out" as an option when bored, and not as a special occasion.

We went to a new, upscale outdoor mall near where I work. There's a Whole Foods, several upscale restaurants, lots of upper-end shopping (Aldo, Williams Sonoma, J. Crew), and a big movie theater. We started at The Yardhouse, which featured a gazillion different kinds of beer. Between us, we sampled Dead Guy Rogue Ale, Arrogant Bastard, and Delirium Tremens. Clear winner: Arrogant Bastard.

For dinner, we went to Legal C Bar, which is the upscale bar version of Legal Seafoods, a Boston-area stalwart. We had some cocktails, and discovered Absolut Brooklyn. What does Brooklyn-flavored vodka taste like, you ask? (Not like asphalt and hipsters, which was my first guess.) Red apple and ginger, actually.

Then we had the raw seafood tower (oysters, clams, shrimp, crab legs). Of those, the oysters were, and always will be, the clear winner. I like raw oysters far better than I like raw clams, the crab legs were messy, and the shrimp--despite the waitstaff's assurances that the shrimp were fresh--were previously frozen and in fact were so cold they may as well have been still frozen. So now you know: when eating raw seafood, save your money for oysters, sushi, and ceviche. Skip the rest.

We wrapped up the evening with The Hangover II at the multiplex. (Not nearly as good as the original; but then, sequels never are.) A couple of weeks ago we saw Bridesmaids at that same multiplex; that's two movies in a month, and prior to Bridesmaids, I don't think I'd seen a movie in the theatre since...my road trip in 2009? Frankly, the experience doesn't do anything for me. It's $22 just to get in the door for the two of us (plus popcorn, since apparently my husband is physically incapable of watching a movie without popcorn); I'd much rather just wait for Netflix and watch at home for practically free.

But hey, the point is that $22 + popcorn is not the huge budget-buster it once was. Nor is a day of "going out," which, happily, was less expensive than I'd feared. Largely because I was mentally pricing beers and cocktails at New York prices ($14 each) instead of at suburban MA prices ($6-8 each). Even the tower of seafood for two was a reasonably priced $47, and not the $80+ it would have been in NY.

I guess there are some advantages to the 'burbs, after all.

Neptune Oyster

While roaming through Boston last weekend, we happened upon Neptune Oyster and decided to give it a shot, based on the recommendation from a guy working a high-end wine shop in the North End. (When in doubt, wine and cheese shop employees will almost invariably have good restaurant recommendations.)

It didn't disappoint.

We gorged ourselves on fresh seafood, starting with a round of Wellfleet oysters. I also discovered the Kusshi oysters, from British Columbia, and Summerside from Prince Edward Island; the Kusshi were very meaty, and the Summersides were almost lemony. The Wellfleets were terrifically briny, as always, but I may like the Canadian ones better. We paired with a LaCryma Cristi Dei Feudi 2009 from Campagna, which was delightful--it had an almost salty aftertaste, which went perfectly with the seafood.

Next came a hamachi ceviche with a jalapeno pesto. I could have eaten a huge plate of that--it was really good. (I had to explain the concept of ceviche to my husband--raw fish or seafood which is marinated in citrus juice, so that the texture changes and becomes similar to the texture of cooked fish/seafood, even though it's still raw. Very light and refreshing. Yum.)

I moved on to P.E.I. mussels in a Thai curry sauce (which I sopped up with a side of fries, moules frites-style); my visiting friend had seared scallops with a black bean-corn thing, and my husband had the lobster roll.

One of the things I missed most in Southern California was good, fresh seafood. You'd think Southern California would have good seafood, but you'd be wrong. That was one of the (few) saving graces of moving from there to Boston--I knew I could finally get good seafood again. Restaurants like this are perfect for scratching that itch--super-fresh seafood, small, inviting ambience, good wine list. We'll definitely go back.