It all started with a long, lovely walk in the rain past gargantuan buildings that once held most of Boston’s car dealerships. Now: Apartments, restaurants, Boston University student housing. Onto Harvard Street, sort of a Mission-East Village vibe with most folks in their twenties, tat covered and trying to evoke a street sense, but falling short and instead looking like Kids on Trusts waiting for the First of the Month.
Wonder Bar was the first stop: Way too much vermouth in gin martinis, but on the second try the bartender got it right.
Next stop: Soulfire BBQ. Very good ribs, pulled pork, collards, rice and beans, and pickles. Tons of pickles. I’m not saying this is great BBQ, but it is the real thing. Smoked, dry rubbed. Focused menu.
Good music at both: old school soul. No Motown, thank you, Jesus.
En route to the final destination, we pass by Korean, Chinese, and Japanese restaurants. Might as well have been in Asia. The only white folks were the boyfriends.
Finally, speaking of white, it was Jack White, who blew the top of the building off. Almost like a jazz performance in the sense that what happened next in each song was unpredictable and the focus was on the instrument. Too bad it was impossible to hear a word of lyrics.
By the time it was all over, the rain had stopped.