Friends Are The Bestest

Rainbows, lemon, miniatures, oh my!
This past weekend, I shuttled up to Boston on my favorite mode of transportation, the Bolt Bus. (A quick tangent though: On my way back to NY Monday morning, I had a bus driver on my good ol' reliable Bolt Bus service who thought it completely necessary to stop at an Arby's for twenty minutes in Connecticut. A) Why pick the worst fast-food restaurant known to man? B) Fast-food means fast, quick, speedy, pronto... Sipping on your high fructose corn syrup coma-inducing soda and savoring your crappy, unidentifiable meat sub is hardly leisure meal behavior, let alone bus service manner. C) And, if you are going to pick an Arby's, why don't you pick one that is in the vicinity of other fast-food places, not just your run-of-the-mill Holiday Inn? Ok, I'm done with my rant. Moving on...)

So yes, I went back to beantown to visit a good chunk of my friends who happen to be Tufts-centered this summer. Arriving in South Station, I bounded down to the red line of the T only to be greeted by rowdy Red Sox fans. I began to miss the NY subway on the T when we stopped, count it, six times in the tunnel. Oh, the underrated beauty of express underground transportation with minor delays.

I got off at Davis Square and journeyed up the hill to meet my friend and housemate Meg for dinner at my house in Medford. I clearly forgot two things: a) how much I sweat from minimal daily exercise and b) how damn far away my house is from Davis Square. Getting to my front porch with no muscles pulled never felt so good. Meg warmly greeted me and threw some "summer turkey" burgers onto our George Foreman grill. Two burgers, a magic hat ale, lots of gossip, and six pieces of grilled summer squash later, I was stuffed, lying on my plushy, yet filthy couch eyeing the mountain of videogame devices that had accumulated on my coffee table. Thanks, male subletters.

I would have to say that the best part of the evening is the surprise cupcakes Meg made for the occasion. The rainbow lemon cupcakes are so tiny that three could easily fit on my freakishly small palm. The cupcakes weren't frosted, but glazed with tart, yet delicious lemon gloss. Biting into my first cupcake, the whizz of lemon and the sweet crunch from the rainbow funfetti filled my palate and inevitably invoked an "oooh!" of delight. These little bad boy cupcakes pack a tangy punch that only the avid cupcake connoisseur can handle. Needless to say, I ate five. Well done, Meg. Well done.