I fully believe in walking into grocery stores just to lustfully pine after that cheese you can’t afford (or don’t have a place to store, in my case). The vicarious thrill of handling boxes of exotic imported snack foods is almost as fun as eating them. In some cases, it’s more fun than eating them. Especially if they’re licorice-flavored. Ew.
So my newest list for Citysearch is five places which are fun (and cheap!) to browse around. If I could extend the list, I’d also add Wine and Cheese Cask in Somerville which has a great cheese, cracker, and chocolate section along with their wines. Since I’m not a big drinker, I prefer to stare at the cheese section…
Grocery Shopping like its Window Shopping on Boston Citysearch
Buying groceries shouldn’t be drudgery – think of it as an adventure, a way to explore aisle six like the anthropologist you are. I offer you five places to stock not only your pantry but your heart as well, stores that will fill your cart and warm your stomach, tingle your olfactory glands and numb your lips. Don’t forget to pick up some frozen dumplings. >> Read the list
It was spring, freshman year. By then, the Cambridge frost had receded from the cobblestone, and warm air spilled out from T stop as you walked by. To cheer myself up, I’d appoint myself in a wrap dress and green wedge sandals, the ones my mother bought me from China, and slip on a pair of $10 sunglasses. Then I’d find a coffeeshop.
And I’d sit there, feeling the caffeine ooze into my blood, my fingertips, buzzing in the back of my mouth. There was something nice about being surrounded by people you didn’t feel guilty for not knowing.
As a result, I’m an unapologetic table hog. I’ve planned days where I come in the morning, buy a large cup of joe, stake out a table, and stay for a good 8 hours. I love how coffeeshops occupy a liminal space that is not quite home, school, or work.
You can go by yourself, or with a friend. You can talk, or not talk. You can linger, or you can rush. You can eat, or just drink.
The Biscuit is a favorite of mine that I often forget. They suffer from a few flaws – there’s no wifi, and seating could be more plentiful. Their pastries are enormous – think, biscotti the width of your forearm – and cheap. But you’d probably have better luck, in terms of execution, with their hot sandwiches. You can even get them in halves for $3.25 each. Blissful.
I was seduced by the candy-toned hues of their fruit tart ($3.50), but was a little underwhelmed by the crust, which was more of a brioche than a pastry crust. Maybe a personal preference. Even so, I love the charm of their mismatched wooden chairs, chalkboard menu, and low prices. If you’re looking for a more substantial lunch, Kebab Factory down the street has Cambridge’s best Indian buffet by far. It’s a lovely part of town, and one that Harvard students don’t often discover.
Find it!
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406 Washington St
Somerville, MA 02143
(617) 666-2770

Since my foray in Jewish speed dating clearly hasn’t earned me a date for Valentine’s Day, I’m turning all my brilliant ideas over to you, dear reader. This list of a sugar-themed crawl of Cambridge is meant primarily for the adventurous and thrifty, a winning combination in my eyes. I realize that my awkwardly inserted mentions of makeouts perhaps should be cut. I’ve spent too long with my Macbook to know what you crazy kids do these days.
Or, if you’re sexy singleton, a la Bridget Jones and pre-Big-and-wedding Carrie Bradshaw, try my “For all the single ladies” v-day list. Except I’d probably switch out the movie options – I just don’t watch enough quality cinema to know of movies where men turn out to be evil puppy-eating beasts – a much better ointment for the soul than some 40-something tearing up as her man abandons her at the altar. Buzzkill, much?
I’ll be hitting the gym, regardless.
Harvard Square is home not only to a lot of foot-fetishizing Japanese tourists and uppity academics, but also an overwhelming number of cafes. For real cafe die-hards, these businesses are much more than a coffee dispenser. (I’m looking at you, the one nursing your $3 latte for 6 hours.) Here’s to admitting that your trapped-on-a-desert-island essentials include your Macbook, a wi-fi connection, and a hard stool you had to elbow through the lunch rush crowd for.