I apologize for the last post. And then I apologize again for leaving it up a little too long.
Moving right along, I've gotten a new job since arriving in Mass. I'm still going to be nannying but for a young family with only one infant! I'm really excited about it and will start that job on the 14th! Until then, I'm working with the family I wrote about before with three kiddos.
Last night Bryan and I went to the ICA (contemporary art museum) on the harbor. They had a really good photography exhibit that I enjoyed, but the building totally out shown the art for the most part.After our museum time, we walked over to the North End for dinner on Hanover Street. Jon, our insurance agent, highly recommended Hanover Street for really awesome authentic Italian food. The picture I took of my gnocchi didn't do it justice so I couldn't even bring myself to post it. You'll just have to take my word for it... so. good.We wandered for a while before we found our amazing tiny little Italian food restaurant. We even wandered into the restaurant in this picture, with the menu out front. On the menu it said, "Mussels, Sliders, Risotto..." Sounded good to us, and the prices weren't terrible so we went in. We sat down at a table and quickly scanned the brochure on the table about how the restaurant got its name and what the restaurant's philosophy on cooking was (which made sounded a little ridiculous and over the top to be quite honest).
And then the waitress came.
She gave us a five minute schpeal about the night's specials which included but was not limited to: "The 'pepperonis' on the 'pizza' are very nice marinated radish, along with the 'cheese' which is a non-dairy tofu based such and such, and the 'dough' which is really a baked hulled wheat and olive paste something or other... Tonight we also have yada yada yada..." Everything she said sounded terrible. How in the heck did we stumble upon the only Vegan restaurant in the entirety of Little Italy? Come on. (Which I feel they totally misrepresented on their outdoor placard, but whatever.)
So, as soon as the waitress left our table, all of the manners that our mothers worked so hard to instill in us went right out the front door with us as we ran away from that terrible terrible place.
What we did eat was way better, I'm sure... and Bryan got some meatballs (gasp!) with his spaghetti!
We're off to see Willy Wonka in Smell-O-Vision! Have a good night!