The North End

Boston's North End is a unique part of the city. Not only is it older and more historic than areas downtown, it is also the area with the greatest concentration of Italian-Americans. The narrow, cobblestone streets are lined with Italian restaurants and pastry shops, and the Boston accents heard calling out across the streets are thicker than any others in the city.

In all my time here last semester, I never actually made it to the North End. So yesterday afternoon, Christina and I took of on a quick little adventure. Our main purpose was to go to a pastry shop. She wanted a lobster tail (very large flaky pastry filled with cream), and I had my heart set on a canoli. We hopped on the subway at Longwood Station in the nearby park and rode up to Park Street, where we had to change to a different Green Line train, because the D line trains never go far enough. We got off at Haymarket, and one block later were officially in the North End. We took the long way around to the pastry shop to get more of the North End experience. Tourists always go to Mike's Pastry, but the crowds and the prices aren't the best. So we went down the street to Modern Pastry, the shop frequented by the locals. Granted, there was a line there too, but what else would you expect in the late afternoon on a Saturday? I didn't really mind so much--standing in line gave me time to drool over all the different pastries and make up my mind for sure about what to order. The canolis there really are excelent. The cream is thick and delicious, and you can get several different types of shells, including chocolate-dipped (yum!).

Leaving Modern, we noticed that the Haymarket produce market was still set up. This event happens every Saturday, and this was the first time I had ever seen it. The street is full of stalls of vendors with any kind of produce you can think of. In fact, it sork of reminded my of an art festival, because each stall had a tent over it, like an artist booth. I hadn't planned on getting any produce--my meal plan covers me well enough that all I really need to buy is the occasional jar of peanut butter--but the first stall we stopped at had something that caught my eye. The man was selling kiwis 4 for a dollar. How could I pass up a deal like that? So I spent a moment picking out the four best kiwis I could find. He tried to rush me, but I wanted to make sure I didn't get any of the squishy ones. What I learned from this is that Haymarket is rather intense, but it'll be worth enduring the crowds to go there this summer when I have to feed myself instead of going to the dinning hall.

Now that I've finally spent time in the North End, eaten canoli and shoped at Haymarket, I'm starting to feel like a real Bostonian. Who knows, by summer I may even care about baseball! Red Sox relif pitcher Justin Masterson spoke at church today, and he's an athlete I can respect. If hall council really does organize a group outing to a game, I'll know who to cheer for!

-Kim