A born and raised Californian, I call it ‘The 93’, not ‘I-93’, ‘wicked’ means evil, and I don’t need to play tennis to call them tennis shoes. All of our colloquial differences aside, Boston has been a welcoming and exciting place to call home over the past two years. I could explain my adoration for Boston by its walk-able size and historical charm, but I have a feeling you already know that. My love for Beantown can be boiled down to just three words:
Beer, Blood, and Bears.
Beantown residents don’t just love beer, they demand and appreciate it. We don’t mess around with light tasteless crap; we drink heavy, full bodied, flavorful brews. Forget weak sweet girly cocktails, beer is often a lady’s drink of choice in this great City. We drink beer like we breathe air; we can’t go too long without it. From craft beer to old favorites, we can count on Boston to offer a wide variety of taps and bottles at bars and restaurants across the City. No surprise that I spend a fair amount of time at The Publick House in Brookline, which offers a book of domestic and Belgian beers you can’t find anywhere else in Boston, including numerous hard-to-pronounce Belgian brews. The candle-lit, European Middle Aged ambiance of The Publick House draws the most serious of connoisseurs who appreciate the impressive collection of glassware purposely designed for each beer. If you haven’t experienced Mead Hall near Kendall Square, add it to your bucket list but don’t expect to check it off with just one visit. With 100+ beers on tap, high ceilings, open air windows, a wrap around wooden bar and a down-to-earth feel, it’s a Beantown resident’s dream, and this Cambridge employee’s after work spot.
Blood, you question? What does Boston have to do with Blood? Blood runs thick in this New York hating, rivalry centered City. Don’t know if the Sox are in town? Step outside and see a sea of red and you’ll have your answer. Boston fans wear their hearts on their sleeves and are proud to be Boston. Unlike NYC, Boston has only one team in each league, so the City stands united as one. Pats fans, Sox fans, Celtics fans, are brothers and sisters of the same father, and as the saying goes, “blood is thicker than water.”
I have a curse, and the curse is called over productivity. Planning is my passion and I just can’t seem to slow down. My curse was lifted the first winter I spent in Boston, 2 years ago. You all remember it- record low temperatures and snow fall through April. Boston has taught me that being a bear is OK. Yeah, I venture out in the winter, but I don’t feel a tinge of guilt spending a Saturday curled up on the couch catching up on the latest Breaking Bad season. Hibernating is a wonderful activity, and it forces me live in the moment.
Wherever life takes me next, I’ll remember where my love of beer grew, I’ll carry Boston pride in my veins, and I’ll thank the City for reminding me to slow down once and awhile.
For Beer, for Blood, and for Bears, cheers to you, Boston.