foodage

Food in Boston is good, Bryan’s bout of food poisoning not withstanding. The moral of the story, as Dave tells it, requires using dirty beer taps as your gauge of restaurant cleanliness. Where I heartily agree, it would have been nice for him to have shared this with Bryan. At the very least it would have saved me a trip to the nearby CVS for various over-the-counter pharmacuticals.

Back to the good food… The regular end-of-show TMO dinner was held in the North End, where we held court (quite loudly) in the corner of the basement. We had the lovely Sasha as our waitress, and she was enormously good humored with our party of 13, who got louder with each bottle of wine, and even contributed to it by willingly bringing us grappa. Grappa! I blame Greg, drank a few sips, then pawned it off on Peter, who asked for it.

As if my trip here hasn’t revolved around food enough, tomorrow I will get to have breakfast with Old Friend Audrey, who is not old, but has been a friend for a long time. She’s driving down from Vermont this evening, and we’re getting together in the morning. Woo!