Day 62: Johnny Foodmasters

After all of this weekend's festivities, today was primarily spent in Building 19 (i.e., at my desk at work).  But as the end of the evening drew nearer, I got very excited, for the season finale of Mad Men was approaching!  And what's more, one of the hosts had just received a deep fryer as a birthday gift (because whose dream birthday gift is *not* a deep fryer?) along with about 2 gallons of peanut oil and accompany potatoes, so we were to have Mad Men french fries.

I typically come from work when I watch tv at this location on Sunday evenings, and I'm right by Trader Joe's here in Fresh Pond, so I typically ask what can I bring?  The answer today was that more gravy was imperative.  After work I traipsed over to TJ's, and searched in vain for the item of the day.  Finally, I succumbed to asking a sales associate, and was looked at incredulously and told, "Gravy is a seasonal item."

.

?!

Yeah, right.  Maybe in, like, Canada.  Anyway, the next step was obviously Johnny Foodmaster's, the neighborhood-feeling Somervillain grocery store near the Mad Men / potato-ey fiesta, where there were plenty of terrible-for-you packets of the stuff.  Of course by the time we got there, the french fry maker herself had already eaten too many gravy fries for anymore, but there's always next time.

Day 19: The Best Fries in Boston

Sometimes Boston magazine writes about crap. But other times, it writes about the best French fries in Boston. And apparently it's spot-on. After a cue from a friend, many of us followed to the Publick House in Washington Square in Brighton for a delightful afternoon filled with moules frites (or in my and my roommate's case, seafood stew and multiple sides of fries). For us, the trip also involved a misguided foray into Boylston St. to Citizen Public House and Oyster Bar -- to be fair, it looked great, but it involved neither my friends nor Boston's best fries.

However amazing the moules and fries were, however, there were even better highlights of the day in the form of playing the game Risk at home and venturing to the art gallery in Cambridgeport where a friend was helping to host a silent auction and after the Risk adventure, the art gallery after-party involving so, so much singing. It was quite festive, I must admit.  Like... until 5am festive (note the clever back-dating of this post). And I have left with a renewed appreciation and better understanding of the Goldman variations -- and a renewed desire to own a good piano.