On the road again: Boston, day 1

When you fly on a commuter jet, as I did today, there's only one way to improve the flight: get an exit row seat. I was able to score one, and the plane landed safely and on time, so I rate the trip a resounding success.

Dinner tonight was at Craigie on Main, a highly rated establishment whose chef, Tony Maws, was a 2009 Beard nominee for Best Chef, Northeast. Where there's a tasting menu, you'll find us, so of course we opted for the ten-course offering. All the dishes were tasty, with the pork belly the stand-out of the group, but nothing blew us away. Last weekend's dinner at Heron's cost about the same per person and easily topped this meal at every turn.



In an interesting and rather unsettling move, the squab came with the leg bones sticking straight up and the toes, complete with nails, curled in the diner's direction. Had I been seeking some bones for divination or perhaps a curse, this would have been handy, but as a presentation device it fell over the line of cleverness into Creepytown.

As you can see in this picture, the overall effect was to leave you temporarily unsure whether you were engaged in eating or in battling with undead birds come to claw out your brains.


One of the day's most entertaining moments came in the taxi ride back to the hotel, during which our cabbie explained to us why "the metaphysic is mathematics" and how, after studying the same Michael Jackson video seven times and meditating upon it, he knew Jackson would die at age 50. "What you think, they write down somewhere," he said, "and you get it, either in this life, or after you die and come back, in that one." Words to live by. Or not. In any case, his running patter made for a very pleasant ride.