It’s over. Officially. Summer at an end, these five or so days when that bridge between seasons makes the air and light magical in the sense that things don’t look or feel the way they did in August or will in October. Every day on the five to six walks a day I take with the dogs there is something new to notice.
Less transparently, I’m solo for two weeks, while the spouse trains doctors in Brunei, Laos, and Vietnam. That means the aforementioned walks, lots of jazz live or recorded, lots of reading Walsh or Suzuki, and lots of writing about what it means to be discover my Ethiopian heritage.
On the food front, we’re talking blintzes and bagels and salmon from Zabars and pasta from Murray’s and Zabars. Sure, there’s a slice or two here and there, but it’s really P.A. here: Pizza Anonymous. “Hi, I’m Scott, and I love pizza.”
Speaking of which, in the past couple of months and in the next couple of months we are seeing in Boston five new pizzerias. NY has refined, ingredient driven food. Here it’s pizza. And offal: cheap cuts of meat high in fat, marketed well. And burgers. Don’t forget the burgers: Tastee Burger in two locations, brand new, and Shake Shack by Christmas.
More reasons to attend to seasons: Burgers and pizza have no time of year, and lead to great disconnect.
Still, there is that pressing question, put forward best by George Clinton: “Do fries go with that shake?”