Though it’s easy to forget when you spend all your time in an ivory faux-limestone tower, it’s easy to forget, Cambridge, Massachusetts is a unique (and wonderful) point in time and space. There are nicknames to match: some idiot Republican called Harvard “The Kremlin on the Charles,” semi-observant writers who’ve been to France sometimes call this city the “Boston’s Left Bank,” and everybody who gets a parking ticket will sigh and proclaim that that’s just life in the “People’s Republic of Cambridge.”

Actually, that has kind of a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Well, I do. Read the rest of this entry »

Oh. Hmm. There seems to be a blog about liquids. And I seem to be an editor. That’s weird. Somebody should have told me.

Anyway, it looks like we’re back from an unscheduled vacation. Where did we go? Um, nowhere. It got hot, and my modus operandi shifted from, “Run around like crazy drinking random liquids at odd hours” to “sit directly in front of the fan and try not to do or think anything, ever.”

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Due to a long-ago bad experience with Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, I’ve avoided the stuff for a long time. At the least, I wouldn’t pay money for it.

Recently, I’ve been at two different events where I didn’t have to pay money for it, so I threw caution to the wind and decided to give it a fair shake.

First, I was at an event where there was a big old box (yes, box) of their hot coffee. Not that it was all that hot, but there was also a microwave — we scientists are clever. Taken black, it’s… drinkable. In fact, it would even be good if it tasted less acidic. It’s got a mild nutty flavor, pretty inoffensive, but it left a sort of bitter taste in my mouth, and the farther down the the cup I got the more I could swear I felt my teeth dissolving. Probably that was psychosomatic though. Anyway, it’s a lot better than, say, the coffee you’d get at the 7-11.

Then there was Free Iced Coffee Day. Boston being Boston, it was chilly and rainy. What else would you expect on May 15? Thankfully, the line was short. Now, apparently people in this part of the world (at least the ones who patronize Dunkin’ Donuts) take their coffee with cream and sugar, because if you don’t specify that’s what you get. I found this out the hard way, but then, this is one of my few opportunities to explore Bostonian culture (how many times have I said that?). Anyway, the iced coffee tastes like sweet milk. With ice in it. It was colored like it had some coffee in it but I sure couldn’t taste it. I’m not much of an iced coffee person (I prefer iced tea), so that’s probably not the biggest loss. Does anybody drink iced coffee when it’s not free iced coffee day? I have no idea. But I’ll be generous and assume that they don’t.

It would be easy to say that I don’t know what all the fuss is about, but then again, I’m pretty sure Dunkin’ Donuts’s stranglehold on New England predates Starbucks and all the other quasi-upscale coffee shops (yes, black coffee from Starbucks is better than Dunkin’ Donuts, and if there are options in downtown Boston other than Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts, I’ve not heard of them). And besides, Dunkin’ Donuts coffee is a slightly cheaper, I think, and if all you want is something to wake you up and keep you from freezing to death, then that’s a valid selling point.

So while I don’t think there will be much Dunkin’ Donuts coffee in my future, I’m still happy to report that at least in once specific instance it’s at least somewhat better than the swill they serve at fast food restaurants (true story: I once ordered coffee at a Burger King. I added one mini-carton of non-dairy creamer. It turned white), and that the locals aren’t all totally crazy.

I mean, except for the driving, the accent, and the baseball.

One of the best things about living in Cambridge is the Cambridge Brewing Company. It’s a nice, spacious location, with a lot more restaurant space than bar space (the food’s pretty decent though I’m not too impressed by the pizza), not too crowded on the weekends. And, of course, they make their own beer; the sides of the rooms are lined with enormous vats of beer, and you won’t be ordering a Corona here.

The biggest downside is that it’s at Kendall Square, so if it’s too full you’ve got a bit of a hike to get anywhere else. Also, they close at 1 for some reason, probably related to the fact that it caters more to adults who appreciate artistry, and less to grad students who want to get thrashed. I wear both hats, as the situation warrants.

This is an ale-only establishment; they’ve got I think four house beers that are always on tap (a golden Kölsch, an amber, a pale, and a porter), plus another five to ten seasonal beers that they rotate through as they become ready.

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I recently had the distinct pleasure of dining at one Mr. Bartley’s in Harvard Square. Most of the things on their menu are solid, and therefore aren’t of much interest to liquephiles like you and me, but I did encounter the darndest concoction: the frappe.

A “frappe” is pronounced “frap” (we require none of that high-falutin’ French here), and it is made of milk, ice cream, some flavoring that I assume comes in syrup form (said a Southern-bred friend: “It tastes like that powered strawberry milk I drank as a kid!” and indeed it did), and a blender.

In other words, it’s a milkshake.

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If I’m inside, seated, and paying more than $3 for a beer, you had better not serve it to me in a plastic cup. You’re running a restaurant, not a frat party or a music festival. Have some self respect.

Since this is a blog about liquids (as opposed to a blog about expensive food or incredibly crappy service) I’ll call that a good enough reason for me to never go back to Tommy Doyle’s at Kendall Square ever again. Ever. And you shouldn’t either.

[Seriously, boys and girls: if you’re at Kendall Square (which you shouldn’t be without a good reason, by the way — that place is a wasteland), just go to Emma’s if you’re patient or the CBC if you’re not. Emma’s has excellent food and a good selection of beer and wine from two continents, and the CBC is a craft brewery.]

Like Harvard Square, Inman Square is a cool neighborhood. Unlike Harvard Square, Inman is actually cool in the college-town sense; it’s got a bunch of awesome little cafés, pubs, and shops. (It’s also a bit of a trek from the T, but that’s just Cambridge for you.)

I’ve been a few times to this really cool little pub at Inman called The Druid that has excellent music and some pretty solid selections. On Wednesday night some classmates concocted the brilliant idea of going thut we all needed to unwind.

But then it turned out that The Druid has trivia on Wednesday, and it was way too full. So we went down the street to Bukowski’s Tavern.

I’d never been to Bukowski’s before. The place is going for a bit of a “neighborhood” vibe — food seems to be an important part of the experience, and they serve it until 1 even on weeknights, and it’s good big windows for those of you who want to be reminded that there’s such a place as “outside” when you’re hanging out. It’s got a big open space (for better or worse).

Now, I’ll interrupt myself and give away the punch-line: the place has three stars on Yelp. I tend to hold out for more. For those of you too lazy to click the link (and I don’t blame you), I can summarize: some people don’t like the food, lots of people don’t like the waiters, it’s sometimes way too loud, and it’s always expensive.

So, okay. I was there on a Wednesday - it was neither loud nor crowded, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t when normal people are there. I didn’t have any food; some of the people I was with got some artichoke dip: one said it was good and one said it tasted like it was from Trader Joe’s (which I think means that it’s good but not worth $6.50). The waitstaff were waitstaff; I told them what I wanted and they brought it. When we first got there I ordered from the bar, which I would have preferred to keep doing (it makes the accounting a lot simpler when you’re in a group). Whatever.

While they have PBR on tap for $3, Bukowski’s does have some phenomenally expensive beer. I blew something like $25 on three excellent beers, a Dogfish Raison d’Etre, a truly wonderful Unibroue Trois Pistoles, and… hmm… I don’t remember what the third one was. At least I remember being satisfied at the time.

There are beers on the menu that are $45, which is pretty much permanently out of my range. Next time I’m there, I’ll probably shell out for the Chimay Bleue — I almost did last time, but I decided I was a little too drunk to appreciate a $15 bottle of beer.

Bukowski’s not the Sunset — it’s got less than half the beers, most of the stuff on tap is pretty standard, and for some reason I’m feeling like it’s more expensive (I’ve got a bad enough money sense even when I’m sober that I have no idea if that’s actually true). On the other hand, it is in Cambridge and its selection is, in its own right, nothing to sneeze at. I don’t know if I’ll be back on a Friday or a Saturday, but sooner or later I’ll be back. It will be expensive and glorious.

I mean that in a good way.

Here’s a secret: Harvard Square is nice. Really nice. If my Institute were next to Harvard Square, instead of a bunch of biotech labs and homeless people, I would be a happier man. We may have the CBC (I’m not giving you a link because one of these months I’ll get around to properly introducing it to you), but they have everything else.

So I go to Harvard whenever I have a thin excuse. Yesterday there was a topical guest speaker, so off I went with most of my lab. We quickly discovered that the stupid train wasn’t running, so we weren’t in any hurry to get back afterwards (I used to say that the MBTA would be a better system if the buses ran, the trains went farther out, and it were possible to get home from the bar at night - now I can add “when the T isn’t broken” to that list). One of the postdocs suggested: “Hey, do you wanna try the most intense hot chocolate in the world?”

Well duh.

L.A. Burdick offers up exactly that, at least as far as I know. It’s mostly an all-purpose upscale chocolatier, and secondly Harvard’s 30,000th coffeeshop. The hot chocolate comes in three sizes: demi, small, and large. “Once I got the small, but I couldn’t finish it and had to throw it out,” she said. “They have white, dark, and milk chocolate flavors.”

“There’s only one kind of chocolate.” I said.

“Exactly.”

So we each ponied up $2 and got a demi-sized dark hot chocolate in a tiny, tiny cup. The stuff goes a long way, though. My interpretation of the forumla is equal parts Swiss chocolate bar and milk, but I imagine if I tried to do that myself it wouldn’t work out so well. It’s not too sweet, but it’s about the richest beverage I can imagine.

This is one of those rare occasions where words fail me, but trust me, it’s the least stupid I’ve ever felt spending $2 for four ounces of non-alcoholic liquid. I’m not by any stretch a chocolate connoisseur, but I would at least consider going back if I found myself in the neighborhood with someone who was into it.

I’m scared of what happens to people who drink a large, though.

Spoiler Alert: I’m not going to say one word about coffee.

I don’t normally eat breakfast — in fact, I try not to be awake at that time of the day — but I was starving on my commute (a 15 minute walk) this morning. Lunch was three hours in the future, so I dropped into my friendly neighborhood donut shop. It seemed like a better choice than the gas station.

Standing in line, anxious to purchase blueberry muffin with large granules of sugar baked into the browned, delectable crust, I saw a sign of the upcoming apocalypse: a cardboard display for what they called a “Milky Way Hot Chocolate“.

This is the point where Dave Barry would swear that he were not making this up, but this is the digital age and I’m hipper than he is, so I’ll just provide a hyperlink.

Would that I could have been a fly on the wall at that board meeting!

Generic Executive (henceforth “Atilla”): *standing in front of a whiteboard* I hate everything.

Chairman (henceforth “Ghengis”): You’re right, Atilla, the world should drown in its own filth. Faster than it is, I mean. *murmurs of agreement from board members, most of whom have goatees*

Atilla: But I don’t want to get my slightly-expensive suit dirty. *more agreement* There just has to be some way for a dedicated group of rich pudgy caucasian men to erode all that is humane and wholesome. Other than letting minority groups who aren’t hurting anybody do what they want. I mean, this is Massachusetts and we are a for-profit enterprise.

Ghengis: I have to admit, that was what I was thinking. I hear good things about superplagues though. And bombs.

Atilla: Bombs are just a fad. Viruses are trendy for a reason, I have to say, but we all kinda suck at biology, don’t we? *nervous whispers. Ghengis is visibly displeased* Never fear though, because I have something that should knock ‘em dead. *Writes on board: “Candy Bar + Hot Beverage = Civilization“* The Milky Way Hot Chocolate. *audible gasps from the board*

Ghengis: …Is that what I think it is?

Atilla: You’re damn right. People will die of diabetes, heart disease, and gingivitis faster than they can say “Diseases of excess”!

Ghengis: My sleeping god, you’re right!

Atilla: Oh, I know… MUAHAHAHAHA

Ghengis: MUAHAHAHAHA

All: MUAHAHAHAHA

Okay, maybe that’s not how it actually transpired. But if it is you heard it here first.

In response to the inevitable question, did I man up and try it for science? No I didn’t. I thought about it, but then I remembered what happened to me when I tried the Cherry Lime Sobe Coolatta one hot day last summer. I focused on my mission, and left with just a pastry.

I wish I were making that last bit up.

Generally speaking, I like my coffee like I like my women: strong, full, rich, and apocalyptically dark. Wait. What? That can’t possibly be true.

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