Would have been a sin to leave Massachusetts without eating a Lobster Roll. Allen, or host at the Blue Anchor hotel, suggested a few places on the Plymouth waterfront. Lobster Hut was within a few blocks of the Rock. It was a simple place with counter service and ample seating outside near the water. The famous sandwich was actually called a “Lobster Salad” roll on their menu - lobster pieces mixed with mayo and simple spices, served on a hot buttered bun (it reminded me of a hot dog bun). The roll complimented the sweet and delicate lobster which was cooked to perfect texture. The seafood chowder didn’t skimp on morsels from the sea, every spoonful rendered shrimp or clams – no searching around here.

Handfuls of cigarette smoking, espresso sipping Italians hung out at the tables in front of Caffe Vittoria. David served me up a macchiato - a real macchiato, not the fake ones they serve at Starbucks in oversized paper cups half full of foam. No Sir. . .this is what you get in Rome – a tiny ceramic cup with two shots of espresso – marked with foam – not douced with enough foam to extinguish a kitchen fire, but a tiny bit – not mixed in with the espresso either. A professional Italian barista knows his foam, on your first sip, your tounge should decipher the foam from the coffee. I had to shake David’s hand (and take his photo).

Eating too much at St. Joseph street fair

Being up for over 24 hours makes your eyes red (hey, they should name a flight after that). We sat on Heidi's patio last night around eight (local time), heads heavy, assuming we'd be drinking our last glass of wine for the day. We got a sudden motivation to follow the music coming from the street below. Just around the corner we found bright lights, crowds, and excitement. It was the annual street fair - evidently a fund raiser of some sort for the local church. We supported their effort by stopping by every food booth. At one, a woman piped sweet ricotta cheese into the crunchy fried tubes. Best Canoli I've ever tasted.

At another booth the vendor, Hector, fried rice balls in hot oil. They were the size of softballs and were filled with either ground beef or spinach. The friendly police officer standing near Hector's booth recommended the ground beef (good enough for Boston's finest, then good enough for me). Hector smotheed the hot ball in tomato sauce - it was fan-freeking-tastic. The satisfying texture never let up - all the way to the last bite (shared by four of us).

The youth group sold fresh made Calzone. There were a variety of stuffings - spinach and ricotta; asparagus and provolone, meatball, sausage. I bit into one - good God, the crust was out of this world - no doubt fresh - as were the fillings. Our stomaches were full, but our taste buds said: "Go man, GO"

I must add this: Boston's north end is so friendly. Just like Florence or Rome, people talked to us as if we'd been friends for years. Groups of Italian men - of all ages and generations, stand in circles, laughing with one another. People walking by on the street look you in the eye - as if to anticipate a seeing a friend. This is a special place. Only one thing I can't figure out - how they stay so thin.

Breakfast at Anthony's

Our tummies growled as we explored the narrow streets of Boston's north end. It was seven in the morning and quiet - except for the vendors unloading their trucks along a street of restaurants. We stopped one of them, a young man and asked for guidance. "Go see Tony" he said, pointing down toward the waterfront. Within steps we'd found Anthony's a small corner cafe with a handful of tables outside. The aroma of coffee and bacon lured us inside. Donna and I ordered grilled cheese egg bagels with Italian sausage. Heidi and Chris opted for a traditional eggs and hash browns. We took a seat and felt the cool morning breeze and morning sun. Tony's daughter delivered our food (and 20 oz coffees). Remarkably good, of course the ambiance made the place - locals enjoying a Saturday morning, tourists like us relishing in a good find.

Monkfish, Marlin, and Many Sips of Harpoon Lager

All the tourists were lined up at Legal Seafood, so we kept walking. We asked around - wanting to go where the locals go for great seafood. The name that came up the most was Barking Crab (with a Boston accent, this sounded like Bawking Crab - possibly a crab shack owned by Mr. Bawking?). We crossed the old, soon to be condemned bridge which everyone assured would sustain at least a few more hours. We easily found this good 'ol crab joint. Every seat has a view of the bay or the River Charles. The place was hopping, but we got a table right away. The lighting fixtures are essentially Christmas lights entrapped in small crab pots. Other tokens from the sea adorn the place. Our freind Heidi was the first to notice the plaster mermaid handcuffed to the wall. Good music from the local classic rock station provided the right ambiance. Our freindly waitress Erin brought a pitcher of Harpoon Summer Lager for Donna, Heidi, and myself. Chris got a root beer. Since this was Boston, we were obliged to order clam chowder, which Erin proudly stated won a contest recently. I could see why. At ten bucks a pop, we ordered a bowl and split it. It was gone within minutes - ample clam morsels, and not overloaded with potatoes. The flavor was spectacular. I detected Sherry, or possibly Bourbon (which takes on a pleasant, unique, non-Bourban-like flavor when the alcohol cooks down). Erin listed the daily specials. I chose the Monkfish Po' boy because Erin promised me it was a local fresh catch from nearby Glouster. Heidi chose the grilled Marlin. Both were excellent. (The other two ordered non-seafood items) My Po' Boy dressing was light and creamy - a perfect compliment for the crispy and flavorful batter. Heidi's fish was tender and mild - served with a warm potato salad and fresh grilled asparagus. This is my kind of place. There is an outdoor patio for those that wish to enjoy their seafood with a river and skyline view. Most crab on their menu comes from the Pacific northwest, so take advantage of the region and order local lobster, clams, and fish. Reasonable prices. Fun and friendly atmosphere.

Eating My Way Across the Eastern Seaboard

Eating my way around the northeast. That’s my plan. Leaving Friday July 24th for Bean Town. Donna, Chris and I will head south from there - Philly, Big Apple, Yasgur’s farm (maybe find some watermelon). Can’t wait to try crab cakes, cheese steak, chopped liver, Amish whoopie pies, and abeetz pizza. I want to share everything with you!

I’ll upload photos and update this blog. Complete with twitteralerts

twitter.com/mankitchen