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I give myself one day a week to eat what I want without analyzing every morsel. On that one day, I ignore the calorie count and turn a cheek to the fat content. Instead, I think of that one thing I have been craving and just eat it. Sometimes it is a single gluttonous meal. Other times, it is a day of food and drink that can only be rationalized once a year.
This past weekend was one of those events…Boston’s LGBT Pride celebration. Saturday’s events included a parade, block party, and general festivities needed to have a “gay old time.” A group of us always meet to watch the parade and this year was no different. Likewise, the weather took this opportunity to make us prove that we would not let the rain conquer our spirits for the second year in a row. At the end of the parade onlookers pour onto the streets behind the procession, perhaps to take advantage of the street closures or just to get a unique perspective of Boston’s busiest thoroughfares scattered with glitter, confetti, and mardi gras beads in place of the busses and autos that would usually cover the pavement. Wet and famished, our group followed the processional in search of lunch.
For 3 years now we have been enjoying our post-parade brunch at a little hidden restaurant in Beacon Hill, 75 Chestnut. Originally we came to this place because it was off the parade route and just hidden enough that we figured we might be able to snag a seat for our larger sized party. We were right. They were friendly, accommodating, and served up excellent post-parade grub. In fact they are so good that we continue to go there. Before doing anything else, take a gander at their cocktail menu. They have fun things like blackberry mojitos and pomegranate martinis. As if you needed any more of a reason to order one of these delights, you can drink and feel good about what you are drinking by ordering from the “Green Libations” section of the menu. These cocktails, including the two mentioned earlier, use either certified organic liquors or mixers.
The food is equally as pleasing. Admittedly, in the last 3 years I have only ordered 2 different items. However, I can say with certainty that those two items are worth ordering. First, the 75 Bistro Burger weighs in at half a found. Order it mid-rare…oh, and I recommend forgoing the cheese and letting the burger stand alone. It has the flavor to do so quite nicely. Combined with a toasty yet soft bun and you have a juicy, hefty winner. Secondly, I recommend the Turkey Sandwich. This club may sound plain, but it is really well made spin on a classic. The turkey is roasted and carved and is without a doubt the star of the sandwich. Crispy toast, smoky bacon, cranberry mayo, lettuce and tomato make this worth the price tag. The fries here are of the thinner variety. I would put them in the “ok” category. Somehow, in the three years of going to 75 Chestnut I feel like we always get the small and soggy end of the fry batch. However, that would be as far as the negative reaches in this neighborhood joint.
Full and only 2 drinks in, our group left the warm and dry restaurant for the damp and cool streets once again. Trekking back to where we had begun, the annual block party on Chandler Street was to be our next experience of the day. This event is more than a block party. The block is literally sealed off at either end by security with no other way to escape. Down one side of the enclosed space is a line of 20 or more port-a-johns. On the opposite side are several makeshift tarp tents and tables set up for overpriced Budweiser or Bud Light. Several majestic arcs of rainbow colored balloons stretch above the crowd as if to seal out the sky as well. Within this small block hundreds of people flock to the point that it becomes a shoulder to shoulder mass of bodies beneath the multi-colored balloons. It is an event like no other, complete with the pulsing sounds of bass as gay anthems blare amongst the hundreds of gyrating revelers. As I am sure you can imagine judging by the beer offerings alone, there is no morsel of taste here. Only the experience of celebration imprints itself in our memory.
Hours later, the street party winds to a close. With heads spinning slightly, ears ringing, and stomachs growling, our party escapes the crowds in search of further nourishment. The “beer” swimming in our stomachs calls to be soaked up by something greater than a simple burrito or cheap slice of pizza. No, we craved something better and we were determined to find it.
drufoodie 