Yes, Erika is in exotic Boston, Massachusetts for training (work stuff), spending time away from Peter for the first time ever. And actually, after an initial hunger strike scare, I think we are all doing just fine. In fact, (she says, with only a slight twinge of guilt), I'm actually managing to enjoy myself. Does that make me a bad mother? Sure, I miss Peter, and must content myself with phone calls every few hours and e-mailed pictures of Peter banging away on Martin's computer. But it is only for four days, and it's sort of nice, not having to worry about the baby every second because I am three thousand miles away and there is Nothing I Can Do About It. Martin and Jana are troopers, taking on the responsibility, but they make a great team and I have the utmost faith in both of them. For four days anyway. ;-)
It helps that I have somehow ended up in an Executive Level King-sized Suite with a view of the Charles River out my window. I awoke this morning to see the river filled with rowers - single scullers, pairs, fours, even a few eights. It was so inspirational that I bounced out of bed at a truly ungodly jetlagged hour and (after pumping - no rest for the mothers) decided to go for a walk along the river. The walk actually turned into my first jog in over a year, and it felt pretty good!
Part of what inspired me was seeing so many people running, jogging, biking, and rowing along the river. Except for the traffic, it's a lovely place to exercise. The trees are still mostly green with a tinge of orange on some of them. A few early adopters have already gone completely red/yellow/orange to prove that Fall really is on its way, but you wouldn't know it from the balmy weather. At least 3/4 of the folks I saw were wearing Harvard maroon, and I wondered if anyone confused me with a Princetonite in my unfortunate color combination choice of neon orange and purple (I couldn't find my BLACK polypropelene top when I was packing).
The river is lined with the most incredible, dignified and elaborately designed boathouses. The first time I saw them was back in 1992, when I came to Boston to race in the Head of the Charles Regatta. I came from the West Coast, where most people have never heard of "crew" and we rowed out of a converted horse stable on a "lake" that we shared with giant United States Navy ships. Radcliffe was kind enough to let us borrow a boat and some oars. We repaid them by beating them soundly and then asking for the shirts off their backs, which they refused (but that is another story). We were in awe of Radcliffe's boat house. It looked like some sort of chateau to us West Coasters with its beautiful windows and fire place, and the history behind it was palpable. I realized then that rowing was an entirely different sport on the East coast, with a different set of social rules. Kind of a reflection of the general differences between East and West Coast culture.
My days as a lightweight rower (under 130 lbs) are FAR behind me, and I intend to spend this trip to Boston eating at the best and most interesting restaurants that I can afford. I started last night with cocktails at the
Eastern Standard. The food is good, but nothing special. I go here for the exquisite cocktails. The bartender started me out with a "Red Hook", which is a variation on a Manhattan that uses rye whiskey instead of bourbon. The best part was the house-made maraschino cherry. To die for. This was followed by a small sample of a "Metamorphosis", which is the best use of Becherovka (a ubiquitous Czech liqueur) that I have found. Finally, that same bartender insisted that I sip on a "Vieux Carre" to accompany my New Orleans style beignets for dessert. Not bad at all.
Tonight I was no longer in a cocktail mood, so I headed to "
EVOO", which stands for "Extra Virgin Olive Oil". Kind of a dumb name for a restaurant, and the place lacked atmosphere, but the food was excellent and creative, especially the Seared Gloucester Day Boat Sea Scallops with Corn Pudding, Tomatoes, Arugula and Vanilla - Nasturtium Chimichurri. For dessert I enjoyed a goat cheese panna cotta with spiced plums at the recommendation of the chef, who happened to be sitting next to me. It was delicate and beautiful, and the waiter left me with an entire list of restaurants that I need to decide between for my last night in Boston (tomorrow evening). I still miss Peter and Martin too, but Hey, when life hands you lemons...you might as well make some tasty lemonade.
