Touring Trophy Town

Have you ever thought you smelt the stale atmosphere of an airplane and felt your heart palpitate with excitement? Maybe it’s a few salty peanuts that get you going, but everyone has a trigger. That sensational feeling of traveling. Sure, airports and train stations can rival the trivial duress caused by a congested highway, but any manner of transportation that removes you from the everyday routine is a welcomed inconvenience. I should take this time to point out that traveling isn’t limited to grand vacations or weekend staycations, these wondrous moments can be found in most mundane of tasks like finding a new route home from work.

Exploration and discovery are deep-seeded needs for us hunter-gathers and I have recently found pleasure in rediscovering the hidden gems of my New England backyard by following the footsteps of tourists as well as seeking out hidden gems. I have been in each northeastern state and seen its main attractions as well as capital cities, but there are still dozens of unexplored locations. My native harbor town being one of them. In order to get reacquainted with my favorite place, I ventured in Boston using a different mode of transportation and walked a different path than my normal visits.

Walking the great city of Boston is an entirely different adventure than skirting beneath it on the T. Quite obviously, you see more. But what’s more important than the stunning visuals of one of America’s oldest cities is enveloping oneself in the beantown atmosphere. Picnic on the waterfront, walk the freedom trail, see a Red Sox game. There are endless options on your visit or daytrip. Be sure to try out quincy market’s sampling of food and while you’re at it, shop around. Find a restaurant or gelateria in the North End (and don’t forget Mike’s Pastries!) to invigorate your senses. Go into the buildings, talk to the people, brave Newbury Street. In the city you can’t be afraid to take chances.

I did my best this day to take routes I had never ventured through before and to inspect the shops I normally pass by. I had combined the best of the tourist and local worlds. And it was only in this submergence of culture did I feel my day in Boston was authentic and unique from all the other migrations. So take some time to explore your neck of the woods or medicate your travel bug and see where it takes you.

Mine’s calling for New York City.

Fresh Food is Local Food, and Local Food is Best

Lately I’ve noticed a lot of farmer’s markets dotting my area. So, I decided to check them out. It seems they all congregate Thursday, amassing their myriad of fruits and vegetables, some even showing off animal products. I’ll be the first to admit that going to the supermarket is practically a spiritual experience for me. The bright lights guiding you down the endless aisles of staple American food and their quintessential international counterparts. Visiting the farmer’s market almost felt as if I was switching my place of worship. I guiltily trolled the stalls, very aware of the misshapen and dirty produce stacked amateurishly. The vendors proudly displayed their local farm’s sign or announced their family’s name upon plaques and knowledgeably manned their station dressed in attire that would better suit the garden.

There’s something about these foods.  Knowing they came from the sweat of someone you can see, or someone who lives nearby puts an entirely new definition to homegrown. I have my own garden at home, but it’s always a roll of the dice. Will they get enough water or sun? Will the cutworms attack this year, or will the seeds be dug out by chipmunks? So many ‘what ifs’ and yet these hardworking people have bountiful baskets of the fruits of their labor. Unlike at the conventional supermarket, where I have an ingrained path to and from all my required sustenance, I wandered the markets without any goal in mind other than to appreciate the local food.

It just wouldn’t be right to leave these venues empty handed. At least that’s what I told myself.  At the end of the day I came away with heirloom tomatoes, carrots and eggs. Since then I have eaten the prizes quite contentedly. As with the products of my own garden, there is nothing like something fresh and locally grown, off the vine and out of the ground mere hours before you purchase it. Trust me when I say, you can taste the freshness of the farmer’s market. Try something and you’ll see the supermarket’s worldly collection simply cannot compare to the quality and flavor of local food.  The best aspect of a farmer’s market is that by buying local you support your neighbors and your hometown economy. I would urge anyone, foodies and non-foodies to invest in the wonders of the farmer’s market and enjoy its succulent reward.