The day before the Boston show, we met up with Paolo’s cousin Jordan and his wife to get into the city for some food and drinks. I don’t recall the last time I was in Boston (if ever even) so I was excited to get into the city and tear it up (food and drink-wise and Trivium-wise).
We went to one of the “oldest taverns” in the city for some decent seasonal local-brew, then off to one of the “oldest restaurants” in town. I don’t recall the names of either, nor are they in my notes – but I hate to say – bum out on the food. I would list it with a warning if possible, but I can’t recall – but it was one of those nostalgic places that’s more of a tourist-refueling station of food-product than somewhere to get good food. I know there is good food in Boston – but this wasn’t it. I should have known – anytime a restaurant has a “thing” like: “oldest” or “banquet rooms available” or “live music” – they’re not paying attention to food quality.
The next day was the show day – I was picking the place. I read up on a place called Sam Lagrassa’s. Rumanian Pastrami with chipotle honey mustard, swiss cheese and coleslaw grilled on an Italian sesame seed bun. Holy pastrami batman! Without a doubt in my mind – best damn pastrami I have ever had, and I have been to many of the famous, best delis in NYC. This was something special – the chipotle mustard had a sweetness and kick. A perfect balance of yin and yang was the flavor of the mustard. The use of coleslaw was something I’ve seen in the Pittsburgian-style sandwiches it added a mild-crunch and exciting flavor-play-off when combined with the sweet/spicy mustard. That pastrami… remember that Seinfeld episode where George started eating salted-cured meats in bed and got eating and doin’ it all confused? This pastrami will do that to you.
Carved off of a massive hunk, this crumbly, soft, meaty, salty, delicious meat could have been eaten by itself. The toasted Italian bread was the cherry on top – every single thing had it’s place, it all just went.
We decided to walk/train to the Boston Fine Arts Museum, which apparently has one of the largest collections of Japanese triptych and diptych pieces in North America (those are the things that basically inspired all Japanese tattoos) and once arriving – we all were totally blown away.
I am saving most of my photos of the exhibits for my photography – so the bits I used are more documentation-style iPhone photos and such. The museum has a really intensive collection of some of the most unique Japanese pieces, ranging from statues to paintings to woodblock. Their world-pieces range from Asia to Egypt; armor and weapons to fine art. They even had a few pieces by one of my favorite painters from Britain: JMW Turner.
If you have the opportunity – get out to that museum.
After the show, we decided to try to hit some of the other great food spots in Boston – unfortunately, most were closed due to the hour and day we were attempting. We stopped at one place, Lucca.
Lucca. It was hot. Summer time. I think they had about 2 tables at the time. We walked in in tank tops – the restaurant said shirts are required, but they’d be happy to lend us some. Puzzled – but hungry – we said sure… we’ll take a look at the attire they’d be bestowing. The over-dressed manager or owner or whoever was running this classy joint brought me an XL blue dress shirt… Paolo – a large purple-thing with a mardi-gras cuff design. He looked like a 12 year old wearing his overly effeminate father’s party-attire. I looked like a goon.
We piled their shirts on the manager booth and ran as quickly as we could.
Good job Lucca. Little did you know that that tattooed hooligan you tried to dress up to impress your other 3 patrons writes about food.
We stopped into another random place in Little Italy for an alright dinner. Just alright. We walked to Bova’s afterwards for a really awesome cannoli – the size of my forearm basically.
So – I hate to say it Boston – but you owe me.
We headed back to Jordan’s to watch Troll 2. Troll 2 has quickly become one of my all-time favorites – it has been hailed, charmingly, as the “best worst movie of all time.” It’s a heart-warming effort (by an Italian madman) to make sort of a deep-messaged horror-sort of movie… using all people hoping to be extras as main actors… utilizing broken English – directed by a husband and wife duo who spoke little to no english. There isn’t a single troll in the movie and Troll 2 has nothing to do with Troll 1. I promise you’ll fall in love with this film. Check out the documentary “Best Worst Movie” while you’re at it to truly witness what kind of cult-phenomenon this epic film has become.
Lucca maybe was a foreshadowing of Troll 2… hmmm…
Yeah. Boston. You owe me. Your art rules, but I know you can do better for food.