New Year's Eve in Boston

We have lived in Boston for several years now, but this year was the first time we welcomed the New Year in our hometown. We considered going "out on the town", but decided to keep our outing short, especially when the temperatures got down into single digits (Fahrenheit). In fact 40 mph wind gusts forced the authorities to cancel the traditional midnight fireworks!

We started celebrating New Years on the Boston Common looking at several ice sculptures. I really wanted to see the parade, so we secured a great spot along Charles Street between the Boston Common and the Public Gardens. In fact our spot was so great that there were very few people standing next to us. As it turned out our "great" spot was just a few hundred feet past the point where the parade ended.

The snow sparkled as it fell turning us into snowmen while we walked down the middle of the Commonwealth Avenue on our way to Copley Square. There were more ice sculptures in Copley Square, including my favorite ice sculpture ever--The Dance by Eric Fonteccio and Alfred Georges from Brookline Coal and Ice Company. For me this sculpture really stood because of its design and craftsmanship.

By this time, my toes were sufficiently frozen to end our celebratory walk. So we jumped in the T and headed to Ginza, one of our favorite sushi restaurants, where the house green tea and excellent food revived us. We topped the evening off with a movie and champagne at midnight.

The 44th President of the United States of America

Did you know that Barak Obama is actually only the 43rd president of the United States? That is because President Grover Cleveland served two nonconsecutive terms and gets counted twice. How do I know that when yesterday I could not even tell you who Grover Cleveland was? Boston Metro published a special inauguration edition today (which I seem to be unable to find online), and it was full of fun facts about U.S. Presidents.

I leave you with a photo published today in that same Boston Metro special inauguration edition. Photographer Pete Souza took this photo in Moscow in 2005.

Adventures of a Letter

Yesterday, I received a rather interesting little letter in the mail. Before I continue, I have to admit, that for almost two years I used the wrong address when sending postcards and letters to my friend Alice in London. Pure luck led Alice to discover my mistake a few months ago, and she can no longer escape my correspondence.

Now back to the letter... The letter I received was one of the letters I have sent to Alice using the wrong address. The interesting part was that the letter was postmarked October 2007, which means that it took the letter over a year to make the round trip from the US to the UK and back. And its voyage is not over--the letter is going back to the UK.

Thanksgiving Recap--Napoleon

Napoleon is one of my favorite desserts that my grandmother used to make when she was younger. Napoleon, the dessert, refers to layers of puff pastry frosted with pastry cream. When done well, a Napoleon is light, moist and melts in your mouth, and my grandmother’s Napoleons did just that. When I learned that my grandparents were coming to Boston for Thanksgiving, I decided that it was my one-in-a-million chance to learn how to make Napoleon from the master herself.

When my grandparents came over to my apartment, my grandma and I set out to prepare the puff pastry dough. Under Grandma’s close watch I mixed water, eggs and flour, and rolled the butter into the dough folding it into envelopes. In the course of the day I repeated the rolling and folding process one more time. Grandma said that she sometimes rolled and folded the dough two more times, but she thought that the extra effort was unnecessary.

In the evening, after my grandparents left, I made a double portion of the pastry cream from the Boston Cream Pie recipe. Unfortunately, I accidentally overheated the mixture, and the cream cooled into a jingly solid. So the next evening I made another batch of the pastry cream, now using Grandma’s recipe.

Unfortunately I had to bake the puff pastry without Grandma’s supervision, and I might have kept it in the oven for too long. It was well after midnight, when I frosted the baked puff pastry sheets with the newly made pastry cream.

After spending the night out on the counter my Napoleon acquired the proper sweetness and flavor thanks to the pastry cream. Still the pastry was far from melt-in-your-mouth. In fact it was so hard, that breaking a piece off with just a fork was impossible. I tore into my piece with my teeth, while Nick, civilized as he is, used a knife.