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.
