How to Pick Restaurants and Influence People

Boston has kidnapped my sister. 

Let's take a step back. When I was 9 and my sister was 7, my mother decided that we should both learn how to play the piano, but I didn't want to learn how to play the piano. So, for Christmas my sister got a piano and I asked for a gameboy and I got a gameboy. My sister is now attending the Boston Conservatory of Music where she is receiving a Masters in Music. Where am I? I am  here: living with my parents, ill-tempered, and non-musical. Yes. I took the road less traveled and that has made all the difference. So, this summer I followed Hayley's path which is full of music notes and New England, but in my opinion doesn't have nearly enough gameboys.


Boston is a grand old town-easy to navigate and filled with clam chowder. When you visit Boston you must (absolutely must) visit the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Located near the Fenway, this stunning jewel box of a museum sits on the park and watches the world go by. You might never know from the its exterior that within this simple brownish-gray building is an Italian villa complete with hydrangeas, Boticellis, and tapestry upon tapestry. It's a dignified riot and who doesn't like one of those?

Basically, Isabella Stewart Gardner was a grand dame of Boston society during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. She collected art, but only art that she liked. Isabella liked art. She was a Red Sox fan. She loved to travel (on her desk, to this day, remains a jar of sand collected in Egypt). She was besties with John Singer Singer Sargent. Basically, anyone who was anyone who visited Boston was going to end up at Gardner's Backbay home/villa/Renaissance Palace. When she died, she willed her home as a museum with a big endowment, but the endowment will be withdrawn if anything in the collection is ever moved or changed. Yep, she was a bad-ass.


In fact, I will make this analogy:

Isabella Stewart Gardner is to Art as Chuck Norris is to Life 

hanging out with the stone lion museum guard

In 1990, the museum became even more well-known as the site of the largest unsolved art heist in U.S. history. You can read more about that debacle here.


Where was I? Food. Another wonderful thing about Boston is the food. Boston has great grub. The culinary highlight of the trip for me was definitely The Daily Catch in the North End. It's so tiny that it is more of "pin" hole in the wall. I had this killer fettucine alfredo with squid ink pasta. We also had the squid ink pasta with oil and chopped up calamari and heavenly butter. I died and went to heaven, but had to fly back down to tell you about this meal. 

going, going, gone

I have a very particular method for choosing restaurants when I travel. It might sound crazy, but food is a major part of the trip for me. Been on any main street in any major city lately? Notice how all the stores are the same (the Gap, the Gap, the Gap...baby Gap). Yes, there are lots of chain restaurants, but there will always been those one-of-a-kind-back-alley-paper-placemat-mom-and-pop-local-homegrown restaurants in any city you visit and they're where you eat your memories. 


Here is how I cross-reference and organize my food hunts:


1. Chowhound: This is a site for foodies, so it can be a little elitist. Perfect for finding hidden spots and "best of" lists.


2. TripAdvisor: Targeted towards tourists, but sometimes you just want to be a tourist. This site ranks restaurants based on popularity and classifies them according to "type" of diner.


3. Yelp: Everyone uses yelp. Everyone. But, that gives it a home court advantage. Locals write about their favorite haunts, but beware the overly used 3 star rating. This site also offers great help with hours, location and menus.


4. Individual restaurant sites: ALWAYS check out the menu. I repeat-ALWAYS check out the menu. Nothing is worse than finding out that a place is way out of your price range or worse still...is vegan (I kid, but only slightly).


5. Word of Mouth: Friends and families are great resources, but find your food "twins." These are people who like food that you like.


6. Follow your nose, follow the line: I was once on the tube in London and got off 5 stops early because I smelled something delicious wafting down the stairs. I discovered the world's best orange and chocolate cookie. The nose wins. Likewise, be an individualist, but when it comes to restaurants, follow the crowd (especially when it comes to street vendors).


Again, this method is not for everyone. It's time intensive and a little crazy, but also a little fun. Check one site, check two, ask friends, sniff frequently. Here are some of my favorite finds from my Boston eating-extravaganza.

Tasty Burger near the Fenway. Juicy burgers and neat atmosphere. 

Oatmeal "Hard" Yogurt from J.P. Licks. The best yogurt that I have ever had. It tastes just like a scoop of oatmeal cookie dough!

Clam chowder from Atlantic Fish Company on Boylston. It has the best bread. Fluffy. Gooey. Warm. Also, it just feels like Boston. The whole place is filled with dark wood and shiny surfaces, but it also won't break the bank (especially if you stick with the bread bowl).

I'm smiling because I am wearing my new blue dress I bought for the trip. This was also my last piece of clothing in my overpacked suitcase. Yep, I wore everything I brought...a first! Also, I'm smiling because I'm about to go to Legal Seafood. Legal is a chain, but it has award-winning chowder. Scrumptious!

We went to the Summer Shack (my best friend KD's suggestion) for the best crab cakes of my life!

What better way to close out our East Coast party than a trip to the grocery store for some midnight Boston Cream Pie and tabloid reading. Thank you Boston! Thank you KGB, Lo, Hayley, mom, and Susie. You were the best travel companions that a girl could ask for! 

Amtrak MVP

If I had my druthers all traveling would be done by train. I love trains. They are fast. They are charming. Without the high likelihood of a fender bender, they let you focus on the world as it passes by. They feel European. They feel American. They feel good. The Lady Vanishes. Murder on the Orient Express. Music Man. People  murder each other, fall in love, sing on trains. Oh, Amtrak you smell of romance. 

On our recent East Coast escapades, we ended up taking the train from New York up to Boston and boy-howdy am I glad we did. After all the running around and sight-seeing, lounging with a good book and a sandwich felt downright decadent- you didn't seriously think I was going to miss a meal did you?

My Look = Debbie Reynolds on a train

Had to stop by Au Bon Pain for a traveling sandwich, then on to Penn Station. You have to wait by the schedule board (is that what they call it?) till 5-10 minutes before your departure time when suddenly they release your gate number. Then the race is on and everyone high tails it to the nearest caboose. TRAINS! They think they can. Is there nothing they can't do? I mean aside from flying.

Can you tell how excited I am in this pic? I'm on a train. Will I be murdered, fall in love, or sing? Oh, the thrill of travel.

Steel Crap Balloonists

the scene of the breakdown

My last day in Chicago was…hard. It's strange coming to a city that you've never been to before. 2 weeks later and it feels like a little home with favorite streets and sights and sidewalk graffiti. 

I finished my classes (Improv 2 and Writing 2) and realized that I was going to have to say goodbye to a lot of people that I would really miss. In two weeks time, we had made a comedy family. I'm a sentimental fool, but I held in my tears, at least for a wee bit and said my goodbyes.

I had three hours between the end of class and my flight to New York, so I figured I'd walk back to my hotel and pick up my luggage. As I walked, I said goodbye to some of my favorite Chicago sights. Goodbye cute sidewalk cafe (the one with the huge pancakes) that I never got to go to. Goodbye way too hip barbershop that I secretly longed to get a hair cut in. Goodbye Panera, my adopted local Panera, my home town hero. Goodbye. Goodbye. Then from the midst of my nostalgia I realized that I had a message on my phone, an automated message from American Airlines telling me that my flight was cancelled due to weather and that I had been rebooked for a flight headed to Newark at 5 am the next morning. At first I thought it was a scam, a Nigerian scam, because everything is a Nigerian scam. Then I thought maybe, maybe this is for real. Maybe I'm stuck in Chicago and I've already said goodbye to my Panera and now I'll have to do it all over again. SON OF A MOTHERLESS GOAT! I began to cry. Then I began to swear. Then I began to start pulling it together and then I thought screw it and then I started crying and swearing again. I had an emotional downpour on the streets of Chicago and people were looking. It reminded me of that scene in Steel Magnolias. You know the one: Sally Fields breaks down in the cemetery over the grave of her dead daughter. "I just want to know WHY?! WHY?!" I might have over-reacted. I definitely over-reacted. 

Flash forward a half-hour and one phone call to my sister, I called the airline and changed my 5am flight to Newark to a 10 am flight to LaGuardia. I actually went into my Panera's to buy a post-breakdown dinner and a huge-ass cookie. I went to my hotel (where I had already checked out) and checked back in. I lucked out and got a free upgrade to a junior suite, sweet. I got in my pj's. I watched Netflix. I had a bedtop picnic with my Panera and realized if the worst thing that happens to me is that a flight gets cancelled and that I have to say goodbye to nice people, well then life is pretty swell.

So, thank you Chicago. You are one hell of a town. Thank you to John and Sarah and Meg(transported Californias and wonderful hosts). Thank you to my teachers and my fellow class/soul mates. But most of all, thank you to American Airlines (even though I did call you steel crap balloonists) for helping me put things in perspective and giving me one more night in Chicago.

Lonely Banana

I pass this giant banana sticker everyday on my way to class. I just want to say, "I know how you feel banana. I know how you feel. You hang in there, brave banana."

DAY THREE

DAY THREE

As I keep taking classes at Second City, I am gobsmacked by how the lesson I learn can be utilized in everyday life. It's true: life is improv and improv is life. 

LESSONS LEARNED:

IMPROV

1. Whatever you say is perfect and awesome (tell that to my mom)

2. You don't have to talk about your location → ex: Don't say something like, “Wow, Bob I'm so glad we're on our honeymoon 20 miles north of Deluth. Too bad about that bear attack that's happening right now.”

3. Pauses can make a scene more alive. In fact, say less and often the scene will go farther.

4. Build a scene one line at a time WITH your partner

5. Get physical...let's get appropriately physical

6. Yes, it is easier to say “no.” However, when you say “ok” to something you'll go places you never expected. We love conflict, but when you say “no” it's harder to get actually get somewhere and someplace.

7. Saying “YES” leads to TRANSFORMATION

8. Know your objective even if no one else does. Know what you need to get; play it; put it into all your actions.

DAY TWO

DAY TWO

So, we're going to jump back into the handy dandy time machine to two weeks ago on my first day of classes at Second City's summer immersion program. Picture it, a Monday in early July. The men and women live much more simply then. They still drive cars.

I awake with the dawn. Being a crazy person, I spend way too long deciding what to wear. Final decision: my lucky yellow sweater, striped shirt, and jeggings. Jeggings, they are better than sliced bread and twice as comfortable.

Note the progression of photos. The one problem with traveling alone (aside from the mind-numbing loneliness and time for introspection) is that you have no one to take photos of your loneliness except for your best friend, mirror. Oh, mirror you're the best and that bright white flash, simply a product of our love.

First picture: Feigned confidence

Second picture: Practicing my “Will you be my friend?” smile → Hey, it worked in kindergarten

Third picture: Freaked out desperation

I hop a bus to the training center and run up the escalator to my first class. This week is Improv 1 (mornings), and Writing I (afternoons). Going up the escalator, I spot all these pictures of Second City alums along the wall: Gilda Radner, John Candy, Catherine O'Hara. I am filled with the 30 Rock Tina Fey line, “I want to go to there.” Then, I realize I am there, here. Cue: Delightful hysteria and well-covered panic.

We're divided into classes and I find myself with about 9 other Nervous Nellies. We introduce ourselves and I can already tell that I like these peeps. Our teacher is the delightful Micah with a spring in his step and a clever yet profound saying in his mouth (that last part sounded weird). But, anyhoo we jump right into games etc. I don't have much time to take notes; but, here is what I grasp.

1. Everything everyone (including me) says is awesome!
2. Never say no, always say yes...and...
3. Every mistake is a gift
4. If every mistake is a gift, then my life is Christmas

We break for lunch and a group of us heads over to Boston Market where I proceed to eat a chicken. About half of us pile back into Second City for our afternoon writing class with Andy Miara, another wise man and I must mention another comedy genius. Here is what I grasp from this afternoon's class.

1. Comedy writing is not about just writing jokes, it's about writing relationships
2. Get up and go for it/write it/act it...who the hell cares (aside from my mother)
3. At Second City, shows are written through improvisation → which means they generate many scenes and then test them with an audience
4. A comedy writer needs to develop an ear for an audience → how and why do jokes land? How and why do scenes succeed?
5. The RELATIONSHIP is the key to coherently building an emotional and yes humorous story
6. Once you find your hook (what's working) push and heighten → I imagine this to be like funny child birth
7. You don't have to have all the answers when you start writing something → let the scene work with you
8. We want to see TRANSFORMATION: characters and situations that are dynamic and always changing emotionally

By the end of the day, my mind is filled to capacity. I end up walking back to the hotel (2 miles) just so I can decompress. I grab a Panera's salad, baguette, and huge ass chocolate chip cookie and pass out on my bed. Today was amazing, but I definitely feel like I'm in the deep end of the comedy pool and I forgot my floaties.

DAY ONE

Hello friends.  Prepare to jump into your trusty ol' time machine! Because of my freakish procrastination, the next several posts are going to take you back into the not-so-distant-past to the first few days of my Chicago, NYC, Boston extravaganza. But, first Chicago, where it all began!


Here I am right before hopping into the car for a quick jaunt to SFO airport. Note the awesome camoflage bag my dad picked out for my early b-day present. Yes, your eyes do not deceive it has a rockin' pink stripe. At first, I thought it would be too big, but it ended up being the perfect schlep-around messenger/minivan (seriously I could carry a toddler in this thing). My dad actually found it at the Sports Basement, and hid it underneath a pile of ski gear just so no one else would grab it before I could ok it. I love my pops; he is both sneaky and thoughtful!

At SFO, I got to fly out of the newest terminal, Terminal 2 via Virgin Air. The terminal is super green (aka ecologically aware). I was just bummed because I misjudged my takeoff time by over 40 minutes! Ooops! So, I got to literally run through the terminal while attempting to purchase a cinnamon-apple scone (a girl has got to eat) and it was not until I was walking the plank to the plane that I realized that I was about to fly with my fly unzipped. I now feel much closer to Terminal 2.

I hate to fly, but the flight was pretty easy. I watch a-lotto television. Where else can you watch 4 hours of Real Housewives of New York City with impunity? I'm trapped in a metal bird, a captive audience. I was supposed to land and go straight to Second City to see a show, but I had forgotten about one thing: the Gay Pride Parade. It took me almost 2 hours to reach my hotel room and I didn't even get to see the parade :(  I was staying in the Lakeview area at a hotel called the Willows. Here is a picture of my hallway, which I swear looks like a scene out of the Shining. I get chills just looking at it (REDRUM!)

Once I got in my room, I was seriously so exhausted that I didn't even know what to do with myself. So, I ate this giant ass cookie that I nicknamed Pangea (the supercontinent). It really helped and it really looked like Pangea.

 Before bed, I brushed my teeth and combed my hair and placed this ironing board under my door as a means of preventing would be intruders. You know, just the typical things.

Goodnight moon. Goodnight pangea. Hello Chicago!

Let's Take This Show on the Road

Have I mentioned that I'm a terrible traveler? I mean terr-i-ble. When I told KD, my best friend from college, that I was going to Chicago for two weeks by myself, she literally said to me, "How's that going to work? You're a terrible traveler." 

See, I didn't walk till I was 2. I didn't learn how to ride a bike until I was 10. I didn't get my license till I was 23. On my way back from studying abroad in London I almost ended up in Trinidad. True story. I make silly-stupid mistakes when I travel. I forget my native tongue. I drop things, heavy things. I lose scarves (hello Heathrow airport circa 2004). I leave my fly unzipped and then walk down the aisles of planes smiling. I really don't know how to get a move on.

So, when it came time for me to pack for this trip, I had to mean business. 

3 weeks + 3 cities = 1 carry on bag and freakishly large "purse/personal item"

The big picture (minus 3 button up shirts that were in the wash)...holla!

A tapestry of over-packing...and pineapple floristry...

My bling with an elephant theme.

I decided to bring some comfort flicks for the trip. I have netflix, but sometimes a gal needs some portable coping mechanisms. What did I pick?

1. Funny Face: A gawky young lady travels abroad

2. Almost Famous: A gawky young man travels abroad with rock stars

3. The Trouble with Angels: Two gawky young women get in trouble in a nunnery

4. Sabrina: A gawky young lady travels abroad and becomes Audrey Frickin' Hepburn

5. The Sound of Music: A gawky young nun travels abroad,finds love, avoids Nazi, meets some orphans -> Good times all around

6. The Music Man: A dapper traveling salesman travels and takes a small town by storm

7. Now, Voyager: Betty Davis has a nervous break down, travels abroad, and comes back Betty Frickin' Davis

8. African Queen: An awkward minister's sister and an awkward drunk travel down an African River...and fall in lurve

9. Tangled: An awkward long haired lady breaks out of her tower and has a good time doing it

9. Elaine Stritch: The most amazingly talented bad ass ever performs...travels across a stage...remains a badass while doing so

MMMMM do we se a trend? What are your favorite motivational flicks?

How I Got Here

Currently, I'm spending two weeks in Chicago in a Second City Summer Immersion. Yes, I am immersed. Like many people who find themselves immersed, I have little time for blogging, my fingers are pruny, and I find it hard to breathe. So here is the first in a series of lessons that I have learned over the past few weeks.

        Photo I took on my way to the wrong terminal...

The Journey to Chicago

Things I learned today:

1. Never ever forget to triple check your departure time

2. Always make sure you've got the right terminal

3. There is nothing that a scone can't fix

4. Turbulence is when airplanes bust a move. Watching Real Housewives for three hours will make you lose your faith in humanity

6. Kind cab drivers will restore it. Thanks Jim :)