a lobster roll,
a bánh mì truck,
a scotch egg/potsticker lovechild.
a guitar,
a song,
my wildest dreams in pocky. 
dollhouse playing,
secret telling,
cocktails lit on fire.
the kyle,
the micah,
the zaftigs monte cristo.
in one of my favorite places of all,
with some of my favorite people of all,
in boston, we had a ball!


i took a little vacay to boston this weekend with joanna.
i know, who the eff would want to go to boston in january?
let me rephrase that:
who wouldn't want to see their friend play cimbalom with the bso, sip on the best fig cocktail in the world, purchase some fabulous dresses on newbury street, have an amazing dinner at oleana* {complete with a chocolate tahini tart and halvah ice cream}, gorge on pancakes and linguica with two of the sweetest people on earth, and run into the first dude i ever went on a date with?
my hands are still thawing,
but holy smokes was it worth it.
i love boston. i'd love it more if it were tropical,
but oh is it loverly!

*a thousand zillion thanks to jess for this recommendation 

week 4: zaftigs

ohhhh k! so. let's talk some about



see, to me, a weekend visit to boston means:

-seeing old friends

-strolling on

newbury stree


(with a definite visit to the marc jacobs store)

-perhaps exploring cambridge

-a sit with a chocolate sandwich cookie at cambridge's

hi rise bread company


-and maybe a nun chuck lesson?

but to the boys,

a weekend visit to boston means one thing:

get. wasted.

as in, 

wake up, 

and even before breakfast, 

be very very drunk.

{even if the only cups left are measuring cups}

it's like a tradition for them.

it's ridiculous. 

don't even get me started.


naturally my restaurant for this week was going to be in boston,

but i faced a challenge:

i needed a restaurant that would be interesting and tasty and boston-y,


it would also need to appeal to some very drunk or very hungover boys.

anything that took traveling to the opposite side of the city for?

ummm no.

any posh seafood restaurants?

not a chance.

the greasy four dollar cheeseburgers they all craved?

bored. so bored.

so with the help of former bostoner


, i found it:



walking distance from friend trent's,

not too expensive,


best breakfast in boston


and a perfectly acceptable place to nurse a hangover.

there it is.

we arrived on sunday at typical brunch hour,

ready to wait

{because what fabulous sunday brunch doesn't have a severely long wait?}

oh but wait we did...

for almost



good thing there were fun mural people for brian and i to play with...

and to pick the noses of.


luckily the wait gave me enough time to decide what i wanted.


because there were too many ridiculous menu items that i couldn't pass up,

i also decided what friends kyle and trent would want too.

for me:

the challah french toast.



by complete chance, 

i happened upon a girl from my

high school english class

on the walk to zaftigs,

she recommended it, 

and i was all, damn, this is a



and then about six more people told me i should get it.

so i did.

and it was, to quote miss erin who also got french toast,

cake for breakfast!!

i mean, i'll take that any day.

i also felt weird about going to a jewish deli and not having a potater pancake.


by the way,

is there a difference between a latke and a potato pancake?

it was ok.

it was at least crispy enough.

friends matt, erin, and becca had

a monstrous breakfast sandwich,


french toast, and a




for kyle:

the raphel

roast turkey, stuffing,




chutney, mashed potatoes, and gravy

atop toasted challah.

think: the gobbler at the

millburn deli

in jersey.

except with mashed potatoes,

that in my opinion,

 took away its rights to be a sammich.

might as well have just had thanksgiving.


for mr. trent:

the lupo

brisket sandwiched between two potater pancakes

with gravy and horseradish

it was a good thing that trent was willing to order this,

because if he hadn't

i would have had a major problem.

i mean, 

what self respecting person that likes to blog about food sees this on a menu and doesn't taste it?

i was a bit confused when it came out though,

talking about,

are you supposed to pick it up and eat it like a sandwich?

or is it just too messy for that?

trent opted for the fork approach,

and so did i.

it was good, pretty good. 

a+ for creativity.

joe got an omelet.


zaftigs was an all day affair.

we were there basically until the early evening.

and it almost bordered on

this severely long typical sunday brunch wait being almost too severely long.

i was satisfied with my toast.

but i'd like to spiel about traditional american breakfast places some:

there seems to be a commonality about em that is a plateau.



how many ways are there to omelet an egg?

or flip a pancake?

or iron a waffle?

don't get me wrong,

it's good food.

but i've never had, and really can't imagine an out of this WORLD brunch. 

{black label burger of brunches, do you exist?}

it seems that when it comes to breakfast,

it's either solid,

or a stale bagel.

i'm truly equally satisfied with a


prix fixe ordeal,

an egg mcmuffin,

or a zaftig's seven hour affair.

what i'm saying is, 

zaftigs was very good...

but unless i crave the brisket + latke combo,

and unless i have a whole day to spare,

i'll focus on my next


restaurants, thankyouverymuch.



zaftig's delicatessen

is located just outside of boston, in brookline.

joe+kyle don't remember a thing.

en route

...he rode over connecticut
in a glass coach
once, a fear pierced him,
in that he mistook
the shadow of his equipage
for blackbirds.
{wallace stevens}

passing through connecticut,
groggy from my nap,
curiously gazing at the big pretty houses along the way,
listening to sigur ros, the decemberists, and rufus,
full from a newly discovered honey mustard,
excited for what boston will bring,
 and sitting next to one of my very best friends...

i couldn't be happier.

this is exactly where i want to be right now.

and in two hours i will arrive in boston,
and that is exactly where i will want to be then!
 i like how that works.