My stomach has found its home
OMG.
I just had a mind-blowing meal. I haven't had that experience in exactly 16 days since I left Poughkeepsie and consecutively ate at Mole-Mole and got fed by Cindy, the authentic Mexican Chef in the group.
I've been subsisting on oranges and calamari since then.
* * * * * * * * * * ** * * ** * ** * *
I had been looking for that perfect, tiny, Italian restaurant where I could eat at my own leisure and not be bothered by impatient customers, waiting to take my table. I wanted food that was similar to food I ate when I was back in Florence, wandering the streets, feeding my soul (and my stomach).
I hadn't had that food in a while. The Italian restaurants I went to were hifalutin, top of the rank, critic-swarming establishments. Hell, I even worked at one. Not that I'm complaining. I did inhale all the food at my externship in a month and proceeded to avoid all Italian food for the next 3 months until I got back to my old routine. Once I got my fill of handmade gnocchi, fresh truffles and dozens and dozens of manzos, I was still looking for that rustic, traditional, Italian meal that sends tingles to my spine.
I've been looking for a similar place since I got to Boston. I mean, there's a ton in NYC. But there are so many tourists and so little time that I haven't had the chance to explore. When I got to Boston, I was so excited to explore the North End. I had time last Friday but I was unsuccessful. I got as far as the Haymarket station and then I didn't know where to go.
And then I stumbled upon it. Online. Only to find it was right down the street, across the restaurant where I have my fill of the best Thai food in Boston. I've seen it while eating at Brown Sugar but it didn't look like a real restaurant from the outside. I didn't trust it. I thought, "What would a good Italian restaurant be doing in Fenway, land of drunk sports fanatics?" Boy, was I wrong.
I got to Trattoria Toscana and had a table by the window. It was a nice small restaurant, seats around 30 people. I scanned the menu and got excited by the porcini risotto. I used to eat porcini pizzas in the trattoria by our hostel in Rome and haven't seen that in a while. I got that as a main and got a simple arugula to start. Of course, I threw in a glass of Vernaccia de San Gimignano. I mean, what the hell, might as well.
The arugula salad came. Nothing to dissect about that. Could have done without the sprinkle of carrots (but I don't like carrots) but I ate it nevertheless. My Vernaccia was crisp, had that slight acidity. I was afraid it wouldn't work well with the bitterness of the arugula but surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. I ordered the Vernaccia for the risotto. Since I figured the risotto would be rich, the Vernaccia would cut some of the richness. And I was right. Mmmmm, that risotto came and I inhaled that thing man. I ate it in 5 minutes flat, or maybe a bit longer. I tried to eat slowly to savor the experience. I would have ordered another if I wasn't so embarrassed. I already looked out of the place. I was obviously the youngest customer and also the most famished. Besides, I wanted to save space for dessert, and my favorite experience, cappuccinos after a good meal.
I was observing the other customers while eating. There was this couple who came in and looked like they didn't know what they were doing. I cringed when I heard them ask the server questions. The server basically had to explain the whole menu, what antipasti was, what primi and secondi piatti was. I mean come on man, if you have a nice french manicure, you should also invest in learning to eat properly.
I rolled my eyes and this was when I realized the intensity of my being a food snob. I took it for granted that everyone knew what they were doing when they came in restaurants. I was so used to being around my friends who didn't bat an eyelash when reading extensive menus and wine lists.
My friends and I once asked each other if we could go out someone who didn't love food as much as we all did. We responded in unison, "HELL NO!" You don't have to be a Chef, or extremely well-versed in food and restaurants, but at the very least, you need an open mind and an open stomach. To be with us, you must be willing to try and learn, just as we are still learning and expanding our palates.
If your idea of meal is onion rings, you're screwed.
Overall experience, thumbs up. Now I don't have to wonder where the hell am I gonna eat dinner. Burger King and McDonald's are also a block away but I try to avoid fast food like the plague. Unless I'm having a hot fudge sundae and nuggets with friends.
My dad will love that place. I'm gonna bring him there when he comes.
I just had a mind-blowing meal. I haven't had that experience in exactly 16 days since I left Poughkeepsie and consecutively ate at Mole-Mole and got fed by Cindy, the authentic Mexican Chef in the group.
I've been subsisting on oranges and calamari since then.
* * * * * * * * * * ** * * ** * ** * *
I had been looking for that perfect, tiny, Italian restaurant where I could eat at my own leisure and not be bothered by impatient customers, waiting to take my table. I wanted food that was similar to food I ate when I was back in Florence, wandering the streets, feeding my soul (and my stomach).
I hadn't had that food in a while. The Italian restaurants I went to were hifalutin, top of the rank, critic-swarming establishments. Hell, I even worked at one. Not that I'm complaining. I did inhale all the food at my externship in a month and proceeded to avoid all Italian food for the next 3 months until I got back to my old routine. Once I got my fill of handmade gnocchi, fresh truffles and dozens and dozens of manzos, I was still looking for that rustic, traditional, Italian meal that sends tingles to my spine.
I've been looking for a similar place since I got to Boston. I mean, there's a ton in NYC. But there are so many tourists and so little time that I haven't had the chance to explore. When I got to Boston, I was so excited to explore the North End. I had time last Friday but I was unsuccessful. I got as far as the Haymarket station and then I didn't know where to go.
And then I stumbled upon it. Online. Only to find it was right down the street, across the restaurant where I have my fill of the best Thai food in Boston. I've seen it while eating at Brown Sugar but it didn't look like a real restaurant from the outside. I didn't trust it. I thought, "What would a good Italian restaurant be doing in Fenway, land of drunk sports fanatics?" Boy, was I wrong.
I got to Trattoria Toscana and had a table by the window. It was a nice small restaurant, seats around 30 people. I scanned the menu and got excited by the porcini risotto. I used to eat porcini pizzas in the trattoria by our hostel in Rome and haven't seen that in a while. I got that as a main and got a simple arugula to start. Of course, I threw in a glass of Vernaccia de San Gimignano. I mean, what the hell, might as well.
The arugula salad came. Nothing to dissect about that. Could have done without the sprinkle of carrots (but I don't like carrots) but I ate it nevertheless. My Vernaccia was crisp, had that slight acidity. I was afraid it wouldn't work well with the bitterness of the arugula but surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. I ordered the Vernaccia for the risotto. Since I figured the risotto would be rich, the Vernaccia would cut some of the richness. And I was right. Mmmmm, that risotto came and I inhaled that thing man. I ate it in 5 minutes flat, or maybe a bit longer. I tried to eat slowly to savor the experience. I would have ordered another if I wasn't so embarrassed. I already looked out of the place. I was obviously the youngest customer and also the most famished. Besides, I wanted to save space for dessert, and my favorite experience, cappuccinos after a good meal.
I was observing the other customers while eating. There was this couple who came in and looked like they didn't know what they were doing. I cringed when I heard them ask the server questions. The server basically had to explain the whole menu, what antipasti was, what primi and secondi piatti was. I mean come on man, if you have a nice french manicure, you should also invest in learning to eat properly.
I rolled my eyes and this was when I realized the intensity of my being a food snob. I took it for granted that everyone knew what they were doing when they came in restaurants. I was so used to being around my friends who didn't bat an eyelash when reading extensive menus and wine lists.
My friends and I once asked each other if we could go out someone who didn't love food as much as we all did. We responded in unison, "HELL NO!" You don't have to be a Chef, or extremely well-versed in food and restaurants, but at the very least, you need an open mind and an open stomach. To be with us, you must be willing to try and learn, just as we are still learning and expanding our palates.
If your idea of meal is onion rings, you're screwed.
Overall experience, thumbs up. Now I don't have to wonder where the hell am I gonna eat dinner. Burger King and McDonald's are also a block away but I try to avoid fast food like the plague. Unless I'm having a hot fudge sundae and nuggets with friends.
My dad will love that place. I'm gonna bring him there when he comes.