The Pittsburgh Food Diaries: Boston Edition.

Ah, Boston. Another city on the quickly growing list of places that I adore. While on vacation, my family decided to take a day trip into the city. My dad, at the ripe ol’ age of 45, has never been there, nor have my brothers! So, off we went.

Sarah and Evan are huge history buffs, I’m a huge foodie, and my dad wanted to see as much of the city in one day as possible, so walking the Freedom Trail was a natural choice, as it calmly winds through 2.5 miles of the historic sites and top-rated eateries. We started at Faneuil Hall, as most tourists do, and slowly began meandering through the city. About two minutes into our walk, we came across The Bell in Hand, a tavern that has been open since 1765. (In case you’re bad at math, that is 249 years of serving beer. Awesome.) We collectively decided that this would be our lunch spot, and continued to follow the distinct red brick path of the Freedom Trail to our next destination.

We briefly toured Paul Revere’s house and admired the gardens and old pews of Old North Church, then headed back to Union Street for lunch. I was already drooling. When in New England, I do as New Englanders often do… which is order seafood. A lobster roll, to be exact, with a tall, refreshing Alagash White. (Shoutout to Megan on that one!) Sarah ordered the Clam Chowder, another New England staple.

Author Joseph C. Lincoln once wrote, “A New England clam chowder, made as it should be, is a dish to preach about, to chant praises and sing hymns and burn incense before. To fight for. The Battle of Bunker Hill was fought for–or on–clam chowder; part of it at least, I am sure it was. It is as American as the Stars and Stripes, as patriotic as the national Anthem. It is Yankee Doodle in a kettle.” This chowder embodied exactly what he was talking about. Creamy and hearty, delicate and fresh. Quite simply to die for.

Capture

My sandwich was also a thing of wonder. The lobster was tossed lightly in mayonnaise, and mixed with finely diced celery and onion. Then, it was quite literally piled onto a bed of crisp lettuce that sat gracefully on top of a softly toasted bun. The epitome of New England cuisine lasted on my plate for less than 10 minutes. (I really should focus on eating more slowly.)

After lunch (and after the US lost to Germany in the World Cup), we continued our journey through Boston. We hit Copp’s Hill Burying Ground, the USS Constitution and Bunker Hill. (I managed to work off a small portion of my lunch when I climbed the 294 steps to the lookout atop the Bunker Hill Monument.) We ended our whirlwind, touristy day in Boston at Cheers, sipping on cool, crisp drinks where everybody (nobody) knew our names.

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