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Stuffing For All: Local chefs share their updated takes on Thanksgiving-inspired meals

Erica Corsano — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 10:00:00 GMT

All photos by Joel Veak

Thanksgiving is a holiday that's as American as baseball and predatory lending. Picking out the perfect bird to roast and holding gigantic potluck-style family dinners are par for the course here, but some of us will be cooking with our adopted urban families, heading out to dinner, or simply enjoying a quiet meal at home with our significant others. With that in mind, we thought we'd gather a few of Boston's most beloved chefs to offer a little inspiration for both holiday cooking and dining out. Each chef was given a category and asked to share a Thanksgiving-inspired dish with us. Nine categories, 19 chefs, and a whole lotta gravy later, we've compiled the perfect list of Turkey Day options for you and your finicky friends and family. With hearty offerings for everyone from the meat eater to the kid at heart, there really is a dish to suit any taste, mood, medical condition, or culinary preference. Check out our selection and, if you are manning the stove this year, click here for the full list, recipes, and step-by-step guides on how to recreate each dish at home. [Click here to contine ... ]

Fired Up!: Stuff and NECN's TV Diner stage a Student-Chef Showdown with hotshots from local culinary schools

Scott Kearnan — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 10:00:00 GMT

The studio lights were so hot, you could fry an egg.

Not that the six student chefs in attendance needed another reason to sweat. Clad in classic white chef coats and hats, they worked furiously, fervently, poring over plates in a small, only modestly equipped prep kitchen - not in a restaurant, not even in their culinary-school classroom, but in, of all unlikely places, a television studio. Around a short bend in the hallway, the gang from TV Diner - the delectable dining series on NECN that has helped rehydrate our salivary glands during many a Saturday-morning hangover - had assembled to capture in living color the dishes produced, run them by a panel of judges, and award one lucky student the chance to have his or her dish served by a professional chef at the TV Diner Platinum Plate Gala on November 21, the show's third annual soiree featuring nearly two dozen Diner-approved local restaurants and food providers. It could be a big break for a burgeoning chef, so the mood was tense. The air was so thick, you could filet it with a knife - the crowd so hushed, you could hear a pin drop on tablecloth. And then, a sudden outcry from a judge ...

"You are soooo the Paula!"

Come on, did you really buy the melodrama? This isn't Hell's Kitchen: it's the first STUFF/TV Diner-sponsored Student-Chef Showdown, and as amazing an opportunity as the competition is (we're not kidding about that), we were all about having some fun with it, too. STUFF editorial director Erica Corsano and creative director Mike Diskin joined chef Nathan Rich from Asana at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel to serve as on-screen judges, and as the chef contestants prepared for the first taste test, the trio was busier assigning American Idol equivalencies than waxing poetic on the culinary arts. (The outcome, for the curious: Mike was deemed a similarly generous but far less medicated version of Ms. Abdul; Erica filled Simon's shoes, albeit in high heels; and Chef Nathan had the balanced, industry-insider perspective of Randy, dog.) Diner host and KISS 108 radio personality Billy Costa presided over the affair with the boundless enthusiasm of eight Ryan Seacrests, and producer/personality Jenny Johnson alternated admirably between the roles of professional ringmaster, wrangling the three-course circus by barking behind-the-scenes directives over her headset, and mother hen-cum-cheerleader, encouraging the crew and watching out for the student chefs.

"Please don't make them cry," she pleaded to the panel of judges.

And how could they, with so much talent filling the room and, more importantly, our city? Boston is renowned for its universities, but besides the brilliant scientists, legal eagles, and powerful politicos churned out of our classrooms, we've also seen a rising number of students training in our culinary schools and going on to keep the local dining scene fresh (call it a sustainable education). Sure, the Showdown itself would only award one winner the opportunity to have his or her winning creation served by Chef Nathan at the Gala, but on a grander scale, this was a chance to celebrate all our future star chefs.

"They have a great understanding of what they want to do and where they want to be," said Johnson after the show, speaking to the dedication of local culinary students. In her work with TV Diner and the Gala - where, for the last three years, student chefs have not only assisted in the kitchen, but formed the primary workforce in every aspect, from setting tables to passing plates - she's had the opportunity to know both established restaurateurs and foodie ingénues. Unlike those of us who ricocheted between early jobs like cracked-out ping-pong balls, feeling our way through the post-college haze and trying to determine what we wanted to do based on what we quickly discovered we didn't (sorry, did I get a little personal there?), Johnson thinks culinary students show a rare kind of single-minded dedication to their craft. "They are fine-tuned to what their passions are and what they want to do for the rest of their lives," she adds. "It's a beautiful thing to watch some of them meet a chef and see the look of admiration, appreciation, and awe."

All three reactions were obvious as the Showdown competitors awaited judgments one at a time: some stood cool and collected, others visibly nervous. The latter wrung their hands as Mike carefully rolled a bite between his lips and Erica wrinkled her nose while examining the presentation of each plate. Perhaps most raptly, they watched Chef Nathan weigh every dish, each an Asian-inspired recipe that kept Asana's Eastern influence in mind, based on how well it would reflect his restaurant and whether it made logistical sense for the large Gala setting. He later shared with STUFF one of his favorite (and appropriate) pieces of advice for future cooks: "I remember working with a chef in Florida who taught me not to be intimidated by what other people can do." Wise words from this linchpin judge of student chefs who, rather ironically, forged his own experience outside the conventional classroom. He remembers cooking "as soon as I could reach the stove!" he says, making breakfast and dinner for his family while growing up in New Hampshire. At age 19, he began his formal training at an apprenticeship program in the state's Balsams Grand Resort Hotel. "Schooling is great, but a lot of people should get experience first," he advises. "A lot of times people pay a lot of money, get into the field, and realize it's not what they thought or harder than it seems."

Fair enough. But talk to the local culinary schools, and more importantly their pupils, and it seems that most of these students have enrolled precisely because they've already sloughed off unfulfilling professions and are ready to finally follow their passions. Career changers constitute, no pun intended, the bread and butter of culinary schools.

"That has become our niche," agrees Julie Burba, marketing and communications director of the Cambridge School of Culinary Arts (CSCA), one of two schools represented in the Student-Chef Showdown. CSCA, founded in 1974, offers four major programs of study: a Professional Chef's Program and Professional Pastry Program, each an intensive 37 weeks long, and a Culinary Certificate Program and Certificate Pastry Program, each a more foundational 16-week study. About 200 students are presently enrolled, and Burba says the great majority of them have done so in pursuit of a second (or third? or fourth?) career that will satisfy a rumbling appetite for change.

The current economic downturn has also played a role, says Stephen King, president of Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts in Boston, the other school represented in the Showdown. The internationally renowned institution only opened its local location (which is actually in Cambridge) in April of 2008, but King can already tell that most of his students are either looking to expand their skill sets via vocational training "for fear of being laid off" or planning to switch career paths because they are "frustrated in their present situation." Burba agrees, saying CSCA enrollments have increased during the recession as corporate layoffs provide an unusual silver lining: the freedom to finally pursue dream jobs, goals that had been sacrificed for the security of a conventional nine-to-five. "It's a life-path change, and I know after 9/11 we saw a similar surge in enrollment," says Burba. "It was that notion of ‘Life is short, so why am I not doing what truly makes me happy?' "

Funny enough, Burba is a perfect example of someone who synthesized a more traditional career with the culinary arts: not only is she the school's director of marketing and communications, but she's also a CSCA graduate turned classroom instructor, still getting out from behind the desk to stand in front of the stove. Not that the business world and the dining industry are mutually exclusive, of course: in fact, Le Cordon Bleu offers a Hospitality & Restaurant Management Program in addition to its cooking classes, while CSCA recently began offering a basic finance class so that future chefs and caterers can learn to balance the books, work smartly with suppliers, and understand the minutiae of labor costs and other overhead.

That's perfect for aspiring restaurateurs like Tony Sosa, a CSCA student and the first student-chef to stand before the TV Diner panel. Though he didn't win with his dish, an Eastern-style pork loin served with potato globes and sesame green beans, he believes culinary school is the obvious next step after spending two decades of his life working in "front of the house" positions (mainly as a general manager) with local spots like Wolfgang Puck Catering and St. Botolph Restaurant. Though years of observation taught him much about life in the kitchen, he felt as though he was "still always the guy walking back there in the suit and tie," says Sosa. "I'd watch the cook on the line and go, ‘Who the heck is that guy, and what's he doing in here?' I secretly envied them and their knowledge." Sosa, who studied math in college before almost immediately realizing he preferred the "electricity" of the dining world, hopes that besides balancing the left and right hemispheres of his brain, the creative indulgence of culinary school will balance his understanding of the front and back of the restaurant house to make him a more marketable manager should restaurateur-ship prove too risky.

At 43, the career-changing Sosa was one of the older contestants in the Showdown. On the other end of the spectrum was Grace Anna Brinton. It wasn't long ago that the 24-year-old graduated with her bachelor's degree in psychology, but she couldn't deny the love of food that was in her blood: she was raised on a farm in Maine where her father, an environmental scientist, helped run an early CSA program. Family dinners were made using fresh ingredients from their own or other local farms. After relocating to Boston and graduating with her degree, she chose to work as an after-school counselor at Ellis Memorial & Eldredge House, a South End non-profit, where she taught cooking classes to underserved kids; she also volunteers with Kids Cooking Green, a classroom-based program teaching healthy eating to middle schoolers. Now in the culinary classroom herself, she hopes her education will help her continue to find ways to integrate the practical and therapeutic benefits of cooking into work with children. "I think it's a great tool to help them learn without them really realizing it," she says. "It requires reading, thinking about measurements, and lets them feel proud and confident. A lot of kids in the after-school program had learning disabilities or behavior problems, and when they're doing this [cooking], they're not struggling. It's great to see them enjoy themselves."

The experiences of Sosa and Brinton underscore the varied reasons future chefs pursue a culinary education, but there are plenty of opportunities for those among us who simply have a fancy for food (yes, that means you, dear reader!), if not the desire for a total career swap, to indulge our epicurean interests. CSCA sees a whopping 8000 students annually roll through its Recreational Programs, one-time or short-term classes focusing on various specialties. The Boston Center for Adult Education is always a popular choice for cooking, baking, and wine courses, and the demonstration kitchen at Barbara Lynch's Stir is a favorite destination for small groups. But other restaurants offer opportunities for amateur chefs to step inside their professional kitchens as well: The Elephant Walk offers classes almost weekly between its Boston and Cambridge locations, and if you can rustle up a group of 15 to 25 foodie friends, Taranta offers a "Cooking Challenge," where teams scour the North End on a scavenger hunt for ingredients before returning to the kitchen to whip up their dinner.

But if you have more than a merely passing passion for food, you'll need real dedication to the craft of cooking to succeed in culinary school. That's what helped Victoria Shotton rise to the top as the crème de la crème of the Student-Chef Showdown. She wowed the judges with a gorgeously plated, mouth-watering Asian calamari salad, but it required her to slave over a stove with uncommon devotion. "I only found out about the competition on Friday," says Shotton, a Cordon Bleu student. With less than a week before the competition, she blew off a weekend trip to get cracking on her recipe and worked at it "24/7" until the moment she stepped into the TV studio. A 25-year vet of the hospitality industry, she's finally attaining her professional degree in the culinary arts - and, occasional weekend sacrifices aside, she couldn't be happier.

"It's been a whirlwind," she says of preparing for the competition. "But this is what I love to do. It's what I've always wanted."

And leaning what you love is the most valuable lesson of all. If that education happens to be edible, it's just the frosting on the cake.

The 2009 Beauty Awards

Heather Bouzan — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 19:00:00 GMT

There's a reason why we feel worse about cheating on a hairstylist than we do about cheating on a boyfriend. Without our regular trims, bi-monthly facials, religiously kept waxing appointments, and the occasional full-body splurge, we're not sure we could continue as functioning members of society. Okay, we're sure we could function, but it wouldn't - and we wouldn't - be pretty. So we've set out to honor the people, places, and treatments that make Boston beauty all that it is. Of course, we're not the type to follow the road most traveled; instead of the typical "best facial," "best manicure," and "best colorist" awards, we've chosen to recognize our favorites within a set of quirkier categories. Sure, we could simply profess our love for this esthetician or that pedicurist, but then we'd be ignoring the really pressing issues - like, who's willing to dish the best gossip? And where can we chill in the steam room with famous people?

Click here to find out who won this year's Beauty Awards.

Nights of the Roundtable

Erica Corsano — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 09:00:00 GMT

Shot on site at the Living Room, Boston.

It may seem counterintuitive that a city like Boston, with its rich history steeped in forward-thinking, revolutionary attitudes, has a nightlife scene largely dominated by a backwards, neo-puritanical matrix of legacy laws upheld by a deeply stubborn old-boy network. This network could prevent Boston from truly becoming the metropolitan city it has the potential to be. This frustrates me, my staff, my friends, and my various colleagues who work, live, and play here to no end. So, when one of these said colleagues and I opened up a discussion to some of the long-time players and rising stars of Boston nightlife, the response was overwhelming.

Most of you have probably been invited by one (or many) of them to an event, begged them to let you and your friends in out of the cold and into their clubs, or flirted your way to the front of their lines. If you're really into the scene, you've called or texted them to get you on a guest list or into a seat at a table with a big fat bottle of vodka.

We didn't get to talk to each and every nightlife player in Boston, but the following people represent a group of dedicated night owls who have about 100 years of experience in this business among them. We're not talking about the Facebook-obsessed hipster kids throwing dance parties at places like the Middlesex Lounge (although we fully enjoy adventures across the river to such nights). No, these people have come up through the ranks and seen Boston's nightlife scene evolve.

They have the experience to know how to operate their businesses but are still young enough to realize that Facebook and Twitter take their classic word-of-mouth marketing power to a whole new level. They represent the next generation of Boston nightlife impresarios and plan to pick up where people like Patrick Lyons and Seth Greenberg left off. That's not to say that the abovementioned nightlife czars are completely gone from the scene - they've just moved on to other projects, like culinary ventures, themed bars, and luxury hotels.

Meet the junior class. They've all grown up and come up in this industry as former club kids, wait staff, bartenders, doormen, etc., and now they're ready to call the shots, run the show, and take us into a new generation of Boston nightlife - provided our city will let them.

Tim Collins, 36, got his start as a dishwasher and busboy; he's now the GM of the Foundation Room at the House of Blues.

Michael Winter, 36, started out as a bouncer on Lansdowne Street; he's now the director of nightlife for Splash and Umbria Prime.

Demetri Tsolakis, 26, started as a promoter at the ripe old age of 17: he's now the GM of Cafeteria and the soon-to-be-opened club on Stuart Street.

Dimitra Tsourianis, 29, is a former coat-check gal at the Sugar Shack; she's now the GM of Alibi.

Frankie Stavrianopoulos, 29, started out with parties in his college dorm room before becoming a promoter: he's now a managing partner at District and co-owner of 6one7 Productions, SoVIP concierge service, and the soon-to-be-opened Stoddard's Fine Food and Ale.

Brig Dauber, 28, started as a security guard and is now the GM for Estate and Suite.

Dave Barry, 29, started out as a bartender and is now the GM for Gypsy Bar and Liquor Store.

Sal Boscarino, 29, started out as a club kid/flyer boy while studying at Northeastern; he's now a co-founder of SoVIP concierge service and partner at 6one7 Productions and Stoddard's Fine Food and Ale.

Ace Gershfield, 30, is a former "flyer bitch"; he's now a partner at 6one7 Productions and part owner of District and Stoddard's Fine Food and Ale.

Danielle DiGiorgio, 30, is a former bartender turned director of special events at Felt, Vinalia, McGreevy's, Lobby Bar & Kitchen, and Revolution Rock Bar.

STUFF: Why nightlife? It seems like the kind of industry that sucks you in. Most of you have worked your way up through the ranks. You work hard and keep at it. Why?

DiGiorgio: You become a family, and if you leave it, you miss it and you want to go back home.

Winter: We're nuts.

Stavrianopoulos: It's fraternal I think. It's social.

Gershfield: It's a job, but it's fun.... You're being paid to hang out with your friends to an extent.

STUFF: Doesn't it ever get exhausting?

DiGiorgio: Of course! But it's really hard to go back to an office job after you've done this. You enjoy the work, meet awesome people; it's entertaining and exciting. If you're an extrovert, it fulfills all of your needs.

STUFF: Aside from being an extrovert, what are the qualities that make a good candidate for your jobs?

DiGiorgio: Confident, outgoing, driven...

Stavrianopoulos: Not afraid of conflict - we are like nightlife politicians.

Gershfield: There's an album called The Politics of Dancing, and it sums it up really simple. Even back in the day, when we first started and you'd put a flyer on a car and another person covered yours with theirs, and the next thing you know...

Winter: Bloody knuckles hitting some kid on Lansdowne Street. (Laughter)

DiGiorgio: And you have to be competitive and creative.

Stavrianopoulos: Yeah, you're always looking for the next best thing.... You can be competitive with each other, but you have to also have respect for each other. Having a big ego will get you out of the scene real quick.

Collins: You have to have that drive to be better or be different. You want to be original; you don't want to do what everyone else is doing. You have to be creative.

DiGiorgio: It's about trust; you have to build trust.

Stavrianopoulos: It's building relationships. I think we all kind of compete with each other in certain regards, but we also have mutual respect. If they come to one of my events, they are skipping the line; they treat me with the same respect.

STUFF: So are there any major conflicts? C'mon, there's got to be juicy stuff that goes on. What's frustrating about this gig?

Stavrianopoulos: I hate Facebook! (Everyone laughs.)

DiGiorgio: I do too. I deactivated myself, I got so sick of it.

Stavrianopoulos: There was a certain art to things at one point, and now everyone thinks they are a promoter...

Winter: The kids go on and go to any of our profiles and steal our friends and throw events. The next thing you know, they think they are just like you.

Gershfield: It dilutes the product, but there are pros and cons to it. The cons are that there are so many options now. The key to it all is the personal, social aspect of it, and that's what we bring to the table, and that's why people are going to come back to us. It's the filler crowd that people are fighting over on Facebook.

STUFF: Filler crowd?

Gershfield: It's like a place that needs to have 500, and you have 300 filler crowd... 200 are going to be your social core that you know well. They depend on you for their nightlife needs... they're your VIPs, etc. The others are your fillers.

Dauber: To an extent, it comes full circle. Everyone gets 30 Facebook invites a weekend, and you ignore every single one of them. You call your friend and say, "What are you doing this weekend?" Your friend says, "Well, I heard this place is good." It's grassroots word-of-mouth marketing, just online.

Collins: Most people know the core nights of the city, the ones you want to go to. If you want to go out on a Tuesday... you have a certain person to call to get you on the list. So it's coming back to, you know, trusting word of mouth more than anything.

Winter: Another problem right now is the recession. VIPs or the so-called industry guys, not only don't want to pay the cover, they want their drinks for free. Some people are like, well, I can go somewhere else... and I don't want to mention names, but some places are doing bottles for $125, and they're running these advertisements. Some venues are advertising buy-one-get-one-free bottles.... It's insane.

Dauber: There's a lot of inter-marketing, and people are trying to cut each other off that way. It's also the larger market. And people aren't jetting off to Miami every weekend; people aren't jetting off to New York every weekend.... A certain crowd has moved out, and a more urban or localized crowd moved in. We're still busy.

STUFF: So you think the people who were jetting off to Miami or New York to party are now staying here and going out more?

Dauber: If we're talking about numbers, I think this summer was actually better than summers past.

Tsourianis: The summer was actually really great.

Stavrianopoulos: We haven't slowed down. I think one of the dynamics is that it's going back to when we started. There was no bottle service or anything back then.

STUFF: But bottle service is illegal here. You can't call it that here. What is it called in Boston?

Tsolakis: It's called "table service."

Tsourianis: Because you can't be holding a bottle - someone has to serve you.

Stavrianopoulos: You can only serve a customer two drinks at a time. So theoretically you'd be selling them 22 drinks at a time. So that's the legality of it. This city is concerned about that.

Dauber: I think a conflict, too, is trying to work within the laws. They're obviously pretty strict in Boston compared to other cities. That definitely restricts the creativity and ability to market and create themes around certain events because of certain liquor laws. There's no happy hour in Boston, as you know.

Winter: It's a puritan city.

Stavrianopoulos: They're really strict about capacity and certain things, and obviously the hours that we all can serve to, compared to other big metros.

Winter: None of us really want to speak on it, but the city is working against us. For so long, we wanted to develop a panel with a licensing board, with the fire marshals.... We try to run everything in accordance with ABCC [Alcoholic Beverages Control Commission], and we'd like to run a panel with them so we can all get on the same page.

STUFF: What would you like to see change as far as the nightlife laws go? What would be helpful to you, your business, and the city?

Winter: We've always talked about this. We, first of all, don't have transit past two o'clock in the morning. We'd love to stay open until four in the morning. And then they'd have transit; people would go out later. That's what they do in New York. That's what they do everywhere. But if we stayed opened until four and transit started then, it would eliminate drunk driving. I saw two accidents last night on the way home.

Gershfield: It should be 3 a.m. closing time.

Stavrianopoulos: Wait, I don't want to work until 4 a.m.! (Laughter)

Tsourianis: Yeah, I'll look like I'm 100 if I have to work that late every night!

Dauber: I'm fine with the time, but I do agree about transportation. And I think just having an open forum or communication with the city officials more often.... They kind of look against or in a bad way... in a negative way... at promoters or DJs or venues promoting their parties too much, and I think we do to the best of our ability make sure people have a great time in a safe environment. But there's always going to be that drunk idiot, you know; there's always going to be that one person who ruins it. Those things that occur...

Gershfield: I don't honestly understand why we can't extend closing time an hour.... On New Year's, we close at three and liquor shuts off at two. I'd be fine with that. It gives you an extra hour for people to sober up, maybe drink water, and spread it out. Instead, everyone is out at two o'clock, bam, and all of a sudden, you have 5000 people hitting the streets at once. Of course there are going to be issues!

Tsolakis: I think people drink that much so quickly because they have very little time to party, so they are pounding and pounding versus spreading it out. If it was spread out it would be better. And people are coming out later now...

Collins: We have people come in for drinks before a show around five, they see the show and then are out by 12 and then drink till two. And we do after shows every single night with the band.

DiGiorgio: It would be nice if we all started a little earlier, though. Why does everyone have to go out at 12? Why can't we start a little earlier, even 10 o'clock?

Tsolakis: I think we have one of the worst after-work crowds in this city. In New York, workers are going out after work and creating a scene. On Newbury Street, where I am now, it's dead at five or six.

STUFF: Why can't Boston have happy hour?

Stavrianopoulos: It's the blue laws; it's the puritan laws that have been carried out in this city.

Tsourianis: If you want to do a discount, the law is that you have to extend that discount for seven days. Well, why am I going to do $4 cocktails on a Saturday? Some bars are trying to get around that by offering free appetizers, but then your chef is mad about food costs.

Dauber: You make less on food, and you can't connect the promotion with liquor.

STUFF: In an ideal world, where unicorns and butterflies and princesses ruled the city, what would you like to see happen? With the laws and the nightlife?

Boscarino: I would like to see more entrepreneurs be able to open spots. There are a lot of restrictions on the amount of liquor licenses that are issued. I think a few large groups, like Lyons and Jillian's, they run most of the venues and stuff. I think they're all great organizations, but I'd like a little more leeway for the little guy. In Boston, you have to have a lot of political connections.
Barry: I'd like to see more positive interaction between us and the city and come to the same terms on things.... Rather than [them] always being worried that we are not going do something right when we do everything we can to do things the right way.... Better communication between us and the city would definitely help.

Stavrianopoulos: I think nightlife should be embraced a little bit more. Maybe it's going to take groups like us to get in front of city officials and talk to them. And start communication. But cities like New York, Miami, LA, Chicago... they embrace nightlife. It's part of their DNA. And they're making money on it.

STUFF: When you say they, you mean not only the businesses but the government?

Stavrianopoulos: Absolutely, the government and the cities. It's accepted, it's advertised, and it's promoted. You go to New York City, and there are things on the street posts about different events and festivals.

Boscarino: There are huge festivals!

Stavrianopoulos: Yeah, and we can't really do that stuff. We just tried doing this Downtown Crossing thing, and they limited us... in entertainment. We want to bring live music to outdoor venues and do things like that, and I think it's going to take some time. But I do think they city is growing and changing with all of these movies, and new projects like the W Hotel going in... it's changing.... It's just a matter of getting in front of people's faces and in their ears to make change happen.

Gershfield: I think the one thing - and this is not important to us anymore - it used to be a market that we dealt with... but I don't understand... we're fine without it... but all 18-plus nights have been eliminated. We want to be a world-class city, we want to be a college city, and they totally alienate that entire age bracket!

Dauber: Yeah, you can walk into the all-age concerts being 10 and walk within two feet of a bar and be completely exposed to the alcohol. At a Red Sox game, too, you can walk right by a bar. There are people passing you with beer everywhere. There is alcohol being served everywhere. But you walk into a nightclub and you're not 21, and you get kicked out?

Gershfield: You know, you're 18, you can [be in] the Army, you can vote, but you can't go to a club? When you're not even drinking? You know, these kids are already drinking, already getting drunk and going to dorms or house parties. At least they'd be under a controlled environment for it, that we provided. They're not coming in to get drunk; they're just coming for dancing.

Barry: I don't think there was ever a law passed.... It's pretty much the city.... The 18-plus license was abused at a certain time, or they feel it was abused. So now, without permission, you cannot hold an 18-plus night unless it's a private event.

Winter: There were so many issues. After a certain time, the ABC Commission would come in; they'd catch like 24 people underage drinking.... We'd do bracelet systems, and of course they'd cut it off and figure out how to give it to their friends. And the ABCC started saying that there were issues out on the streets after clubs shut down, and they'd always blame it on the under-aged kids... especially in the Theatre District.... I bet you if you looked at similar police reports now, you'd find the same complaints in Mission Hill or Allston. That's where the students hang out now...

Gershfield: I don't want the 18-plus. I don't need it. As a city, I feel bad... that this is a city that they alienate that age group.

STUFF: So what does work here? What are some of the positive things happening in Boston?

Stavrianopoulos: I think it's been nice that we have some new blood that's coming into the town to help with new properties. Like Rachel [Moniz] from the Liberty Hotel... she came from San Diego. She thinks outside the box, which is nice. I think that's why they're successful over that way. A lot of guys are coming in at the Ames hotel.

Boscarino: A lot of the New York guys [are] coming in. I welcome the new ideas. They'll realize there are limitations, but the more people coming in, the more that can change...

STUFF: What are you seeing...
the younger kids coming up, what do you see as their plan of attack then?

Stavrianopoulos: I don't even think we've fully come up yet. I really don't. I think we're the ones that are going to be pushing and driving this city, to be honest. And hopefully, keep pushing it and changing the views of people in the city. So we can do things that we want.

Gershfield: It really helps that we have a lot of these celebs coming in. Our celebs always just used to be the athletes. Now we have actual, you know, people, all these movie stars.

STUFF: How does that help
the business?

Barry: It helps a lot.

Gershfield: On the PR level it helps a lot.

Dauber: We'll get mentioned in the paper beyond negative news. It used to be a dirty word, to get a mention in the paper. They would write about fires, stabbings, etc.

Barry: Now, it's this celebrity was here, oh, you know, I guess it's a nice-enough place.

DiGiorgio: It actually helps even when I get calls in from LA, and they just see certain stars - "Oh, I saw Ben Affleck was there." I get a lot of referrals because of other people that have come in.

Gershfield: Like mentions in the "Inside Track."

Winter: (Laughs)

Gershfield: My little starfucker. (Referring to Winter)

(Laughter)

Tsolakis: I just had Katie Holmes in, and people actually ask "Where did she sit? What did she eat?" And they want to sit where she sat and eat what she ate.

Dauber: We had Paris Hilton, and we could probably ride that wave for another year. "Didn't Paris come in?" "Yes, she did!"

Winter: Wasn't that the night after... Rumor?

Dauber: That might be a fact.

(Everyone laughs.)

Dauber: But I think you have the better documentation. I have the nipple picture.

Barry: We were in Star Magazine!

Dauber: I mean, things like that, it creates buzz in a positive way. We have all these movie stars coming into Boston, doing their thing, and putting money back into the city.

STUFF: So what's next? How
has nightlife in Boston changed, and what do we have to look forward to?

Stavrianopoulos: I think big mega-clubs will continue to die down. You won't have those 5000-person venues anymore. We are turning to smaller, more upscale venues.... Boston is on the verge of two giant things. First, the W and the Ames coming to town. But also that new movie studio.... People from LA are going to want to be here.... We have seasons here! And where else can you get a better cast of characters that a group of Massholes all put together? (Laughs)

Gershfield: House music became more and more cool and hip-hop less cool, and you don't need glow sticks and a big dance floor like you used to.

Winter: But those were the best years. There were no fights! Everyone was hugging each other, glow sticks in hand, saying, "I love you, man."

Collins: Oh God, yeah.... (Laughs) And when people used to come over from Europe, on the planes, the first thing you saw right before the movie was a picture of Seth Greenberg with a giant bottle of Moet. It said something like "Seth Greenberg, M80, the world's largest seller of Moet." Those were the days.... It was not like it is now; things are strict.

Dauber: Boston nightlife is evolving so quickly and dramatically. Movies are being filmed here; world-class hotels are being raised. You'll see Red Sox players sitting next to models, sitting next to movie stars. Music, art, and fashion are all combining. There is a whole new side to the city's nightlife. And it's just getting better.

Boogie Nights

Chris Faraone — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 09:00:00 GMT

The STUFF crew sounded like a gang of valley girls in this year's first editorial meeting about the nightlife issue. "There's absolutely nowhere to dance in this city," cried one editor, ripping gulps off her imported bottled water. "Tell me about it," bemoaned a lifestyle contributor. "It's all the same places with the same electro grooves. It's like A Night at the Roxbury every night. So unfortunate."

About five minutes into the discussion - after we nearly unanimously agreed that Beantown nightlife was hopelessly monotonous - some of us realized how close-minded we were being. Like so many Bostonians, we were mentally confined to a few go-to retreats, those reliable "second homes" where we seem to unconsciously wind up jamming regularly.

In order to atone for our late-night sins (or at least for some of them), we sketched a round-up of parties ranging from such renowned Boston nightlife staples as Status at District to such eclectic, lesser-known shindigs as Fresh Produce at Good Life and the monthly Bodega Girls bash at Middlesex. Boston may seem like a mere mini-metropolis sometimes, but you should never judge a carnival until you've screamed on all the rides.

Spot: Formerly The Squealing Pig (stay tuned for the new location)

Party: Underground Control

When: Every Saturday

Longtime Boston party instigator Martin Doyle built this night on rock and roll. Underground Control is the newest of these featured fiestas. At press time, this '80s tribute dance party was between venues, but it's well worth tracking down (look out for an update on our website). On the ones and twos, Underground Control is currently fueled by DJ Dan Riti (of Local 121 fame in Providence) and DJ Slick Hair, who strictly spins cheesy and regrettable billboard toppers from the likes of Michael McDonald, Wings, Hall & Oates, and a mess of one-hit wonders. "We call it ‘yacht rock,' " says Doyle, who will soon be augmenting Underground Control by screening zombie flicks and indie-film snippets. "That's the joke - music that you imagine rich people listening to on a boat - but that's what's fun about it."

Spot: Wonder Bar (Allston)

Party: Humpday Wednesdays

When: Every Wednesday

We know what you're thinking - Wonder Bar (186 Harvard Avenue, Allston, 617.351.2665) is for college students, and anyone who defies that notion could wind up looking like the dirty old man or woman in the club. You're probably right, but here's the catch: DJ Hevan rocks the booth there every Wednesday, and Boston's undeniable mixmaster party pleaser has an arsenal of hot joints that are sure to get just about everybody high. Known for reading his dance floor more carefully than he does noise violation complaints, Hevan slices no more than 60 seconds of any track before segueing into more excitement. And while his rep as the go-to DJ for the ADD generation has earned him frequent gigs at such esteemed venues as Estate and Shrine at MGM Foxwoods, the UMass-Amherst grad holds down his Wednesday residency for the type of crowd that he started his career serenading: sweaty college dudes and high-energy co-eds.

Spot: ZuZu (Central Square, Cambridge)

Party: Soul-Le-Lu-Jah

When: Every Saturday

If there really is a "soul revival" going down in Boston - a suggestion that repeatedly pops up in the local music pages - then the weekly Soul-Le-Lu-Jah jam at ZuZu (474 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.864.3278) is largely responsible. Started in 2003 by Carrie D'Amour (who's better known as Miss Firecracker of La Gata Negra League of Masked Lady Wrestlers), the small but always-brimming soiree is the heart and, um, soul of a scene grounded in affection for rare and ancient 45s and long nights of rug cutting. Though D'Amour no longer runs the show, DJs PJ Gray and Claude Money hold it down with more wax than Madame Tussaud. While they and the night's guest DJs are all hopeless and admitted vinyl-philes, the Soul-Le-Lu-Jah clan is not about playing highbrow rarities that impress a nerdy few. You might hear some obscure gems that inspire moves you never knew you had, but Curtis, Michael, James, Stevie, and Aretha are known to make quite a few appearances.

Spot: Estate (The Alley)

Music: International House / Latin

When: Every Friday

It's not easy keeping one of Boston's biggest, best-known clubs classy on a Friday night. But C Entertainment and MKE Entertainment - both of which
were largely responsible for luring well-dressed partygoers from Lansdowne to the Theater District in the first place - have kept the space within the luxuriously padded walls at Estate (1 Boylston Place, Boston, 617.351.7000) stuffed with impeccable panache every Friday since their party kicked off this past January. In addition to the suave dudes and high-heeled women who routinely show, promoter Cameron Grob promises contemporary house hits for pop sensibilities, as well as remix action that gets asses swinging from the ornate chandeliers. "It's the best house night in Boston," says Grob, who relies on the Vinyl Disciples and DJ Matos to bring a vibrant yet accessible crossfire of domestic and international vocal house. "We like to say it's mixed - not stirred."

Spot: Phoenix Landing (Central Square, Cambridge)

Party: Makka Mondays

When: Every Monday

There's an argument to be made that Central Square's Phoenix Landing (512 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.576.6260) is the best-kept secret in Boston-Cambridge when it comes to intense late-night dancing. Then again, such a claim could be compromised by the fact that such parties as Mid-Week Techno on Wednesdays and Drum n' Bass Thursdays have been swelled to the walls for a straight decade. Assisting the Landing in its mission to keep the floor smoking every night but Tuesday (when they have Wii karaoke), DJs Voyager: 01 and Uppercut fill Makka Mondays with a raging spread of roots and dancehall. Guest-wise, expect appearances from the region's top selectors; Junior Rodigan and DJ Gold Finger are hardly strangers. In short, this is not your daddy's reggae show - if you want to sway side to side and puff spliffs to classic Bob Marley slow jams, then you might try the Western Front down the street.

Spot: Good Life (Downtown Crossing)

Party: Fresh Produce

When: Last Saturday of Every Month

The list of celebrated rap artists and producers who have manned the downstairs decks at Good Life (28 Kingston Street, Boston, 617.451.2622) could literally double as an abridged hip-hop hall of fame roster. From Jeru the Damaja and Stretch Armstrong to Peanut Butter Wolf, Dr. Claw, and DJ Benzi, host vinyl jockeys DJ Knife and DJ Tommee spare no expense to bring the planet's top urban-minded turntablists to Downtown Crossing's subterranean boom bap bunker. As for the crowd, Fresh Produce is one of the few hip-hop parties in the Northeast that attracts females who don't pack razors in their cheeks; the night draws one of the most diverse crowds in Boston, with all shades of tight asses represented. As you might have noticed, retro-fitted tunes and hipster-hop acts like M.I.A. and Kid Cudi have officially penetrated mainstream consciousness, making nights like this draw much more than just a standard head-nodding b-boy crowd (though breakers often do show up). The result: a bash that looks a lot like House Party and sounds like an electro-smacked old-school and Golden Era upgrade.

Spot: District (Leather District)

Party: Status

When: Every Saturday

District (180 Lincoln Street, Boston, 617.426.0180) is one of Boston nightlife's most visually titillating attractions - and not just because of the lounge's refined natural brick and wood styling. The Saturday crowd at this aesthetically wondrous alcove would make for one hell of a hot-body contest; the majority of women in the room are tan and tone, and the men tend to be the same. That said, club promoter Frankie Stavrianopoulos of 6one7 Productions says Status lures a "mature" crowd and serves downtown as the perfect club-bar-lounge hybrid for everything from philandering to mega birthday and bachelorette parties. DJ Matty D regularly spins dance classics from every era, and, to keep the two-and-a-half-years-running event interesting, 6one7 throws the occasional themed gala; recently they hosted a Le Cirque night and a Ducati fashion show. If the name Status sounds a tad elitist, it's because the night's promotion squad has more than earned that right. If you don't get there by 10 p.m., you're not getting in unless you're Ray and Shannon Allen.

Spot: Middlesex (Central Square, Cambridge)

Party: Bodega Girls

When: Last Wednesday of Every Month

When a band names Vincent Gallo as an influence, then its audience had better wear waterproof attire. Moderation is a foreign word to the Boston dance-rock troupe Bodega Girls, who in the last year have quickly graduated from underground phenomenon to East Coast icons of sweaty parquet mayhem. Their songs - take, for example, "She's Into Black Guys" - demonstrate the group's credo that absolutely nothing is sacred, and their monthly bangout at Middlesex (315 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.868.6739) proves just the same. At their "Lo-Fi Hedonistic Dance Party," the Bodega Girls deliver pants-down live sets with hot and heavy DJs in between. And what would such a night be without visuals? You never know what might show up on the overhead projector, but you're likely to catch the crotch-stiffening video for their remix of the Sean Bones track "Dancehall" (if you dig naughty '80s workout tapes, then YouTube it immediately). Long story short: you know those party pics you've seen where bearded perspiring animals in vintage tees are getting sandwiched by hipster chicks with no underwear and hoop earrings? Chances are more than a few of them were taken here.

Spot: Alchemist Lounge (Jamaica Plain)

Party: This Is Why They Hate Us

When: Every Fourth Saturday

In case you haven't figured it out yet, the "They" in "This Is Why They Hate Us" is code for straight people. That doesn't mean that heteros aren't invited to this post-punk indie-dance throwdown at the Alchemist Lounge (435 South Huntington Avenue, Jamaica Plain, 617.477.5741), but it does mean that right-wing Alabama senators and bigoted Miss USA contestants would likely be offended. In designing TIWTHU, promoter David Dancer jokingly claims that he asked around the Fens and other homo hangouts what gay dudes might want in a party, and the answer was a resounding "Free, loud, and fresh." He also writes that anyone who attends is sure to catch the H1 GAY1 dance virus, so watch out. On a side note - if you're asking yourself "Where is this Alchemist Lounge anyway?" it's time to lace up your candy-colored kicks and ride the Orange Line to JP for some hipster pandemonium.

Stuffed: The 2009 Dining Awards

MC Slim JB — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 14:00:00 GMT

It’s been a brutal year for dining out, with recession-cowed consumers clutching their wallets, panning for bargains, and shunning the posh places they frequented in better times. Calamity loomed everywhere: storied old venues shuttered, crops failed, and an entire city block of beloved restaurants — Thornton’s, Umi, Sorento’s, Greek Isles, Rod Dee, and El Pelón — literally went up in flames.

But the news isn’t all dire: the intrepid industry soldiered on, tapping its creativity to give credit-constrained gourmands new reasons to keep going out. And most of us — despite grim job prospects, evaporating retirement plans, and that one friend who still thinks The Cheesecake Factory rocks — continued to seek out extraordinary food and drink. In this spirit, we pause to recognize the best and the worst of a tumultuous year in Boston dining, while looking forward with Obaman optimism to better days in 2010.

Click here to check out "Stuffed: The 2009 Dining Awards."

An Unseasonably Warm Wintour

Shaula Clark — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 14:00:00 GMT

With her severe pageboy bob and eye-shielding sunglasses, Vogue’s editor in chief, Anna Wintour, has attained near-mythical status in the both the publishing and fashion industries. Dubbed “nuclear Wintour,” she’s widely thought to be the inspiration for uber-bitch boss Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. But filmmaker R.J. Cutler wants us to know there’s more to the fashion-mag mogul than pointy words and killer instinct. With documentary The September Issue — a cinéma vérité chronicle of all the blood, sweat, and tulle that goes into making Vogue’s largest, most luxury-crammed issue of the year — he shows us a Wintour who also nurtures the career of a young designer, idolizes her father, and suffers from the knowledge that her more humanitarian-minded siblings dismiss her work as “amusing.” She shares the spotlight in the film with her worthy adversary, creative director Grace Coddington, a former model (and 21-year Vogue vet) who’s responsible for a hefty chunk of the magazine’s most inspired photo shoots. The week of The September Issue’s French premiere, I chatted with Cutler via phone.

I’d imagine this film will come as a surprise to people who expect Anna to be Miranda Priestly. I’ve had a lot of different opportunities to screen it, and a lot of fashion-industry professionals, people who have worked with Anna, people who know her well, people who know her personally, have said to me, “My goodness, you got her.” So many people at Vogue have said, “I can’t believe they let you see it. You saw it.” And that is deeply gratifying to me, obviously. There are two things you want to hear as a filmmaker from your subjects: one is that it’s true, and the other is, “Now that you’re gone, we miss you.” Those are the things you aspire to. And the reason you want to be missed is you want this experience to have been something that people have poured themselves fully into.

How hard was it to get Anna to participate on camera? The one-on-one moments with her seemed revelatory, but they feel sort of sparingly sprinkled throughout. Hmm. I accept that read of it, but that’s not my experience. You know, we shot 320 hours over seven and a half months. We were with Anna constantly, and what you see is what I’ve selected as part of the narrative I’m telling. The story that resonated for me is the story between Anna and Grace. Anna is in there exactly as much as I wanted and needed for the film.

There seems to be a very clear contrasting dynamic between Anna’s and Grace’s approach to things, as we see Grace’s artful, ’20s-inspired photo shoot competing against the celebrity-focused Sienna Miller photo shoot Anna commissioned. I would describe it as an apparent dichotomy. Because the truth is that Grace has enormous business savvy and Anna has enormous artistic sensibility. And the real relationship is a symbiotic relationship, even though they appear to be polar opposites. That’s part of the beauty of it — that opposites attract, even need each other. And that’s what you have here.

Do people find Anna mysterious partly because people find the fashion industry itself so mysterious? Well, yeah, it’s a specific industry. People are larger than life. There’s a great theatricality. It’s very public. The stakes are very high. It’s something that people are talking about. Anna herself has been so instrumental in the merger of fashion and power and celebrity and global industry, so she’s part of it all. And part of her influence and success derives from the fact that she is a bold-faced name, and she’s got a thick skin, and she stands up for what she believes in. There’s a mysteriousness to her, even as she has enormous influence over a lot of people who play a prominent role in the fashion industry, and who themselves are bold-faced names.

You’ve used the phrase “minister of fashion for the world” as a way to describe Anna Wintour. Could you elaborate? Well, what I’ve said about Anna is that she is the descendant of the minister of fashion in the court of Louis XIV. When the finance minister persuaded Louis of the importance of luxury being one of the great French exports to the world, it was the minister of fashion who would make the decisions as to what that year’s fashions would be — where the hemlines would be, et cetera. Anna is clearly the direct descendant of this person, in terms of the role that she plays.

Anna was one of the first fashion editors to put celebrities on her covers. Do you think she was seeing the writing on the wall, or do you think she helped pave the way for our obsession with celebrity culture? Well, the only answer to that question is “Yes.” [Laughs] There’s another question that’s similar to that, which is, does the power derive from her position as editor in chief of Vogue, this 118-year-old magazine, many of whose editors have been enormously influential throughout the fashion industry and business world? Or does it derive from who Anna is? And once again, the answer is “Yes.” Is she sphinx-like because it increases the impact of who she is, because she sits in the particular seat she sits in? Or is there a shyness there that she’s turned into an asset that enables here to have a protective position, as she sits in this position of power? Once again, I believe the answer is “Yes.” … And it works in these films to live in the contradictions and the multiple simultaneity of different truths. Whereas, in a Hollywood film, your Miranda Priestly is just going to be your Miranda Priestly. Maybe for a second, she’ll get a little vulnerable. But that’s a certain kind of storytelling. This is a different kind of storytelling, where the more complex, the richer the experience is. And the truer.

Style Stories

Scott Kearnan — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 14:00:00 GMT

When it comes to stylishness, Boston doesn’t always get a lot of credit. Talk to some fashionistas, and they’d have you believe Boston style is so staid that we’re all still marching around in tri-corner hats and pilgrim shoes. That perception, though, is as ill-fitting as last season’s denim. Maybe we don’t have Madison Avenue on our side, but we still have plenty of fashion-forward folks strutting our streets like a catwalk.

But beyond that, it’s important to recognize the distinction between “fashion” and “style.” The former describes what people wear — but the latter? That tells us something far more interesting: why they wear it. How they wear it. What inspires them to dress the way they do in the morning. Why it makes sense for their day-to-day lives. And most valuably, how their outward image functions as a blank canvas on which they express their inner identity.

We found naturally stylish people whose individuality captured our curiosity. These aren’t necessarily the power players and industry bigwigs you’re used to seeing in other ranking lists. Consider them your antidote to boldfaced names: these folks are reflections of the rest of us, in all our colors, shapes, sizes, and styles. Their looks range from understated to over-the-top, bold and brassy to sedate and sophisticated. But each has a unique story to tell about what inspires them, and we’re happy to let their style do the talking.

ZACHARIAH HICKMAN

Growing up in Lynchburg, Virginia, Zachariah Hickman never thought he’d end up dressing like the Southern gentlemen around him. But now, the 30-year-old Somerville-based musician says he has come to embrace, at least on some level, the “cowboy suits, seersucker, and general haberdashery” that formerly held negative associations. “I don’t associate them with racism and privilege, like I used to,” he says.

In fact, Hickman’s style is a reflection of his bold but quiet sense of humor. “I’m a grown man playing dress-up,” he explains, likening his fashion to a form of “costume” woven throughout his everyday life. After all, you’ll never find him without his trademark Z-shaped belt buckle, a gaudy find from a Georgia flea market that he likens to “cowboy bling.” Though his style has Southern roots, locally he finds boots at Rick Walker’s (306 Newbury Street, Boston, 617.482.7426) and vintage specs at Harvard Square Optical (65 Mount Auburn Street, Cambridge, 617.576.0140), and he praises Jack’s Tailoring & Dry Cleaning (1937 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.868.8339) for helping his cowboy suits accommodate “a big guy with awkward sizes.”

“I’m not a very cool person, but I’m a confident person,” says Hickman. “So I wear what I find entertaining.” Usually Hickman is the one entertaining as a major multi-instrumentalist (he plays bass, lap steel, pump organ, and ukulele, to name a few) and longtime musician for singer-songwriter Josh Ritter, whom he met during his freshman year at Oberlin College and Conservatory of Music. Presently touring the UK together, they just finished recording Ritter’s latest album, due in early 2010.

But if there’s any part of his ensemble more prominent than his upright bass, it’s probably his trademark Imperial handlebar mustache. He first grew it when playing the ringmaster during a college circus he produced (“I’m not entirely sure if I just had a circus to justify growing one,” he admits), and he’s been rocking the dastardly train robber look ever since, even claiming to brew his very own Dr. Zachariah’s Mustache Conditioning Wax and Gravity Suppressant. Sense of humor? Sure. The only one not laughing (at least, not all the time) is his other half.

“I can usually tell what she thinks from her face,” chuckles Hickman of girlfriend Callista Wilson, stylist for Rue La La. “She’s a good sounding board, but she does appreciate my style.”

LANA SOUSSAN

As a hair stylist at James Joseph Salon (30 Newbury Street #2, Boston, 617.266.7222), Lana Soussan is used to making other people look good. And as anyone who has ever torn a page out of US Weekly to share with a stylist can attest, that often means trying to mimic someone else’s look. But when it comes to crafting her own eye-catching style, Soussan doesn’t need to turn to outside inspiration: the big picture, she says, is about embracing her own individuality.

“I don’t spend much time wondering what other people are going to think,” says Soussan, whose bohemian-punk aesthetic speaks boldly on its own. And she hopes her clients won’t be slaves to public opinion either — one of her biggest pet peeves is “when the person looks like they got dressed in someone else’s closet.”

If her closet was compared to anyone else’s, she might share hanger space with Andy Warhol and style trailblazers of the ’80s, like personal favorite Cyndi Lauper. Colorful visual art, like the graffiti girls of French street artist Fafi, and pop-cultural curiosities, like those big-eyed Blythe dolls, also make an impression.

Then again, so does Soussan. “Boston is very conservative, but that’s just fine by me. It makes me that much more memorable,” she says. And she’s hard to miss as it is, rocking a serious sleeve tattoo and adorning her hair with Tarina Tarantino’s Swarovski crystal–covered flowers.

Did we mention that hair is already a bright turquoise? Oh yeah, um, the picture accompanying this probably showcases her bold locks.

“The turquoise hair came about almost two years ago,” she explains. “I had hot pink hair [at the time], and then one day I came into work and looked around, and there were four of us with pink hair. Not cool, so I changed mine.”

Somehow, we doubt she needed help standing out.

BORIS CHANG JR.

Most of us wouldn’t consider our grandfathers to be our style heroes (that Eau de Mothballs cologne is hard to pull off), but Boris Chang Jr. feels differently. “My grandfather really had a sharp look,” he says. “He used to rock three-piece suits and have his hair perfectly parted. I never had a chance to meet the chap, but I admire the overall look of that era.”

A 26-year-old graphic designer for PUMA, Chang may be part of another generation — but that doesn’t stop him from combining time-tested style with his own youthful designs, synthesizing gramps’s menswear elements with inspiration from modern fashion icons like Johnny Depp and even, he admits, Justin Timberlake. “I’m an old-fashioned guy,” says Chang. “I like to mix classic looks and give it new twists … I call it the modern classic.”

Think slim fits, suspenders, vests, and fedoras paired with bright hi-top sneaks that Chang finds at favorite spots like Orchard Skate Shop (1562 Tremont Street #1, Boston, 617.730.5700), Riccardi (116 Newbury Street, Boston, 617.266.3158), and Urban Outfitters (361 Newbury Street, Boston, 617.236.0088). And of course, you’re bound to find pieces from Chang’s own collection, Creep Street, a line of colorful T-shirts and accessories he co-founded with “bromance partner” Chip Marucci back in 2006. The streetwear brand features kitschy designs inspired by skateboarding, sexploitation movies, ’90s pop culture (we’re partial to the retro snap bracelets, available at madcreepy.com and through Boston-based karmaloop.com), and especially B-grade horror flicks. “I’m not a super gore freak,” says Chang. “What really gets me pumped are the old movie posters and how ridiculous [they are]. A so-bad-they’re-good kind of thing.... Besides, who doesn’t like naked chicks running around, especially when they’re getting chased by some melting monster with two heads that used to be her boyfriend? Effin’ genius.”

By mixing old and new elements to achieve the perfect blend of aesthetic anachronism, Chang is the one who proves he has smart style — the kind that never looks dated. In fact, one of his favorite accessories is a testament to timelessness: “My ‘Legendary’ necklace,” says Chang, when asked what item in his closet he could never go without.

“No, seriously. Look at it. Told you.” And you don’t have to tell us twice.

PAUL NADDAFF & URSULA AUGUST

Talk about a match made in heaven. Relationships, like fashion finds, can be as likely to clash as to complement. But engaged 27-year-old Jamaica Plain residents Paul Naddaff and Ursula August are one of those head(-to-toe)-turning couples that have found a common secret to love and style: keep it simple — and keep it real. They may both rock a basic black top and a pair of trendy jeans, but the way they choose to wear them shows off their unique identities as much as their commonalities.

“[I] keep everything basic with one ‘wow’ feature, normally with the shoes or belt,” says Naddaff, who stocks up on solid colored tees, comfortable jeans, and other “laid-back, classic” trademarks of the James Dean variety at American Apparel (138 Newbury Street, Boston, 617.536.4768) and the Levi’s Store (Natick Collection, 1245 Worcester Street, Natick, 508.647.3177). He avoids “big logos” and anything that makes him feel “like a human billboard,” which is pretty ironic given that Naddaff works as a marketing manager for PUMA. At least he has a go-to source for casual shoes that keep him kicking through favorite outdoorsy pastimes like mountain biking and dodge ball (he’s even founded his own league).

August shares similar style values: “I like to wear clean, classic cuts and juxtapose it with one very bold accessory.” But unlike her best guy, who’s more apt to aim for the coolly understated, August turns to her world travels for dashes of dazzle. Among her most beloved accessories is a handmade bone necklace from Mozambique, says August, who was born in South Africa and finds additional inspiration by “mixing South African street culture, like the designer Craig Native, with classic European styles.” As a multimedia producer, journalist, and member of the United Nations Association of Greater Boston, August adds to her accessories at street fairs, street vendors, and antique shops she finds during her globe-trotting treks. She also enjoys shopping closer to home at small Cambridge boutiques and Club Monaco (Prudential Mall, 800 Boylston Street, Boston, 617.262.2658), but no matter where she culls the contents for her closet, she shares her fiancé’s approach to finding style in what’s simple.

“My black tank top,” says August, listing some of the items she could never do without. And who could? Solid, reliable, perfect for pairing but able to stand on its own … call it love, at first sight.

MESMA S. BELSARE

Style is both a reflection of self and the transformation of it.

The colors, textures, and patterns of her attire reflect the Indian heritage of Mesma S. Belsare, who first came to Boston to earn a Masters degree in art education from Mass College of Art. Formally trained in Bharatanatyam (a South Indian form of classical dance), the choreographer, dancer, artist, and educator has been featured in performances the world over and awarded the Government of India Scholarship for advanced study of dance. She also dances often in local temples, as part of traditional offerings to Hindu deities — yet there is something many would consider untraditional about Belsare: she is transgender.

She says that many who watch her dance are unaware. Those who are often ignore it; a few, on occasion, are unhappy. Her style, though, transcends.

“I performed last year at the University of Wyoming in Laramie in March, which is women’s history month,” recalls Belsare, who also sits on the board of The History Project, a Boston-based LGBT organization. “The local Indian community was incensed at a trans woman representing the Indian arts.... After a two-hour long solo concert, an Indian family apologized to me on behalf of the community, as my dance had said what I couldn’t have in words. The next day, a university professor of gender studies was surprised that her students wanted to talk more about the dance they witnessed than gender issues. Art had once again ruled.”

On one hand, “Style is basically a mirror of your self,” says Belsare. “It’s a reflection of what we think, how we think, our wealth of experiences, life influences — the people with which we associate, the literature we read, the passions we pursue.”

Her style also reflects her creative discipline, as she often wears self-made garments that accommodate and emphasize her art. “The way it [my clothing] is stitched, folded, and ironed is strategically planned to accentuate the movement, the form, the figure, the lines,” says Belsare.

Among her most treasured pieces is her collection of saris. “The sari has a very significant value for me. Not only is it very sexy, but it’s also a beautiful poetry worn on the body, the way it drapes and falls … sexy, but also dignified.”

“Ever since coming here [to Boston], I haven’t established the same kind of relationship with a garment. Except maybe with my winter coats,” she laughs. “Those are friends I need to have.”

LINDSEY BERRY

No matter what her size, Lindsey Berry has always had style on her side.

Take a look now at the 26-year-old general manager of Mizu, the salon at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel (776 Boylston Street, Boston, 617.585.6498), and you’d never know that she struggled with weight issues since childhood. In 2001, she had laparoscopic surgery to reduce the size of her stomach, a procedure that set her on course to a lifestyle of diet and exercise that has helped her lose — and keep off — 150 pounds. “It gave me a new lease on fashion and life,” she says.

What’s really refreshing about Berry’s perspective is that, even at her heaviest, she still worked with the sizes and fashions available to assert her style. “Back in the day, I actually got a job at Lane Bryant, and it taught me how to dress for my size and feel good about my size,” says Berry. “It was invaluable to know that no matter what size you are, there are options.”

But even her positive outlook couldn’t eradicate other people’s perceptions. “I was always stylish!” she chuckles of her heavier days. “But people wouldn’t necessarily look

at me that way. If I had made some fashion decisions, they might have felt embarrassing, or people wouldn’t have looked at it as cool.”

There’s no doubt that Berry comes off as cool now, working a trademark boyish, stark, blonde punk ’do (“I wouldn’t stand out as much if I didn’t take a risk with my hair,” she says) and crafting a low-maintenance rocker-girl style using fashions she may not have been able to wear before. For inspiration, she says she keeps her eyes glued to locally based style blogs like New Brahmin, Punky Style, and Bostonista, and she considers Boston fashion designers like Sam Mendoza, Nirva, and Daniela Corte among her personal favorites. She’s been able to diversify her wardrobe with edgy looks, most recently starting to collect vintage menswear-inspired blazers for her ensembles.

And why not? Even guys want to rip a page from this chick’s street-chic stylebook. “My most prized possession is my Theory leather jacket from Intermix,” says Berry. “I actually left it at a bar one night to return hours later to find different patrons trying it on.” She laughs, “Thanks for taking care of her, boys!”

JESSICA SHAUGHNESSY

Ask Jessica Shaughnessy to describe her style, and “urban hippie” is the phrase she’ll choose. And while there’s certainly a lot to like about the 27-year-old South Boston artist’s hodgepodge of funky fashion, not to mention her open and outgoing spirit, what really gives us the warm and fuzzy feeling reminiscent of a summer of love is how Shaughnessy acquires some of her eye-catching accessories. Many of them are handmade by participants in a local program called Common Art (ecclesia-ministries.org/common_art.html), organized by the Ecclesia Ministries and held weekly on Wednesdays at Emmanuel Church, that provides a creative outlet for Boston’s homeless and low-income residents. That’s how Shaughnessy finds some of her most treasured pieces, and she says that heart, soul, and helpfulness mean a lot more than any brand name. “[The money from] each piece that is bought goes 100 percent to the person that made it,” she explains. “So you take home something beautiful and original while helping someone else out.”

Of course, Shaughnessy finds style inspiration elsewhere, too — everywhere from “parking lots at concerts to old photographs of family members.”

And you’ll find her sorting through the racks at LF (353 Newbury Street, Boston, 617.236.1213), The Garment District (200 Broadway, Cambridge, 617.876.5230), and, when she’s not helping others fire up their fashion as an employee there, LIT (223 Newbury Street, Boston, 617.421.8637 and 236 Hanover Street, Boston, 617.391.0086). She also gives a little retail support to local Goodwill and Salvation Army locations to fill her closet with good karma. “Always a fun treasure hunt!” she says.

The tattoo across Shaughnessy’s chest reads “My mouth blooms like a cut,” the poetry lover’s favorite line from Anne Sexton’s “The Kiss.” Maybe we’re just star-struck by Shaughnessy’s Age of Aquarius attitude, but we think her style deserves a big smooch, for sure.

JOE CHEHADE

Joe Chehade is a shoplifter.

Well, not exactly. Chehade co-owns Motley (623 Tremont Street, Boston, 617.247.6969), the South End boutique that he and his brother Jason took over earlier this year after the two longtime customers found out their favorite shop was itself up for sale. And while Chehade would never condone the five-finger discount there, he admits to one theft-related vice: he tends to steal his brother’s clothes. “I’d say a solid 20 percent of my clothes are his castoffs,” he confesses.

Hand-me-downs are good enough for Chehade, who says the key to style is in maximizing your look by minimizing your effort. “I’ve always appreciated that guy who can look completely unique and interested without trying,” says Chehade. Of course, to many people, he is that guy, someone who can wear a comfy T-shirt and jeans with the cool confidence of haute couture. Ironically for someone who eschews obvious effort, he fronts a band called Action Verbs, but his laidback look certainly fits their indie-rock vibe.

“There’s something to be said about a person who can walk into a room and exude casual coolness,” he elaborates. “I think it translates to the indie-music scene today in the sense of standing on the fringe, looking like you don’t want to come in, while ringing the doorbell and banging on the door.”

But what has his fashion sense meant for his new role running Motley? Now that the stylish South Ender is the one stocking the shelves at his favorite store, has he changed the look to match his own? “Motley was very much in line with how I was already dressing,” he says. “Needless to say, we didn’t want to drastically change something that wasn’t broken.” After all, nothing’s worse than wasted effort.

JENNA RIVERS

There’s no secret to Jenna Rivers’s sense of style. It’s just part of her DNA.

The 24-year-old Somerville designer is one-third of the Future Craft Studio (futurecraftstudio.com), alongside her mother Josephine Rivers, 53, and her grandmother Maria D’Amore, 86, a weaver from Argentina. The three generations of women create hand-woven textiles — scarves, hats, and hoodies of cashmere, bamboo, silk, organic cotton, and alpaca. Founded two years ago and inspired by the colors, textures, and patterns of American crafts, the FutureCraft label is now available through their online store. The youngest Rivers is happy to spread appreciation for garments created with one-of-a-kind TLC, fondly recalling wearing her grandmother’s original creations as a little girl: “I would wear them to school, and I felt special because I had my own dresses that no one else would have.”

The prospect of bringing a personal touch back to the style world is also why Rivers traded New York City for Boston. After attending NYC’s Fashion Institute of Technology, she landed a plum internship with Anna Sui, but the experience was anything but a familial affair. Rivers describes that time as “horrible” and “insane,” filled with fashionista tantrums and diva demands. “I didn’t even come back for the free clothes,” she laughs. She found herself more inspired

by visiting weaving classes and textile shows in
Western Massachusetts, and she “bonded with all these amazing women in the middle of nowhere, making these beautiful crafts and doing it just for the love of it.” Thus was born Future Craft and Rivers’s recently opened design studio Fringe Movement, a 4400-square-foot space housing artists from a wide array of mediums — like architecture, graphic design, videography, and bike framing — and, of course, serving as home to the Future Craft Studio.

She may have thumbed her nose at haute couture, but Rivers knows that style crafted with care is what really stands the test of time. “My grandmother made me a Trolls dress when I was little, and it was amazing. I really want to bring them back!” she chuckles, referring to the frocks worn by those plastic, wild-haired dolls of the early ’90s. “It was high-waisted with spaghetti straps, rainbow colored and poofed out like a baby doll. Now, I could walk that down the runway and sell it for $800 to all the fashionistas.”

AUSTYN ELLESE MAYFIELD

Everyone uses their style to tell a story — and who more so than a writer?

“The same way four modifiers may be too much for a sentence is the same way two necklaces and a pair of chandelier earrings may be too much for a certain neckline. So then you have to edit,” explains fashion blogger Austyn Ellese Mayfield (of blog.theknowledgeofstyle.com and luckytoes.com). When it comes to expressing herself, she can draw some poetic parallels between her approach to fashion and to the written word. “I’m constantly looking for a sense of aesthetic tension and balance.”

As a young college professor teaching mass-media courses at Bay State College and ESL classes at UMass Boston, the 27-year-old Dorchester resident also uses her style to set a tone in the classroom. “I’m usually the youngest instructor,” she says. “So those I can’t win over with my wit and charm, I get props from for teaching in a fierce pair of boots and a fedora. And it’s not the clothes they respect; they respect that I can still handle business without sacrificing my identity.”

And Mayfield says her unique identity is in the details: she considers herself accessories-driven, turning to shoes, handbags, earrings, and assorted baubles

from Luna Boston (205 Newbury Street, Boston, 617.262.3900), Mint Julep (1302 Beacon Street, Brookline, 617.232.3600 and 6 Church Street, Cambridge, 617.576.6468), and Stil (The Mall at Chestnut Hill, 199 Boylston Street, Chestnut Hill, 617.527.7845), where you can catch her working part-time and snagging accents that add interest to her look like vivid adjectives add color to a sentence.

But one of her most treasured finds is a pair of René Caovilla heels from a Neiman Marcus trunk show. “I had just filmed an interview with the company’s U.S. rep, and she asked me, ‘Which ones do you love the most?’ ” recalls Mayfield, who also does freelance video production. “I showed her the pair I’d been coveting, and she insisted I try them on … so I strutted around in them for a moment. I guess I must have really looked happy in them, because when I took them off, she shook her head and said, “No, no, no, you belong in those shoes. Take them home with you, sweetheart — they’re yours.’ ”

See? Even for a writer, sometimes a feeling of style is all you need to say what’s on your mind. Says Mayfield, “I love the way that our style allows us to communicate without ever depending on words.” ’Nuff said.

Almost Famous

Stuff Boston — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 14:00:00 GMT

The 101.7 WFNX/Boston Phoenix Best Music Poll provides the perfect backdrop for a sneak peek at rocker-chic fall fashion. [Click here to continue ... ]

Photographed and Directed by Michael Diskin
Produced by Erica Corsano
Styled by Liana Peterson
Models: Jade of Maggie, Inc. and Sam Endicott of The Bravery
Makeup: Dani Wagener of Shu Uemura
Hair: Maria Nieves of Bradley & Diegel Salon
Special Thanks to the Purple Shamrock

Fallen: Fall Fashion 2009

Michael Diskin — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 14:00:00 GMT

Get inspired by fall’s wearable metallics, striking silhouettes, and sexy, slouchy dresses. This season, drama is easy to wear. [Click here to contine ... ]

Photographed and directed by Michael Diskin
Produced by Erica Corsano
Styled by Liana Peterson
Models: Katelyn Loren and Kacy Emmett, of Maggie, Inc.
Makeup: Tavi de la Rosa of Shu Uemura and Rose Fortuna
Hair: Derek Yuen of James Joseph Salon

Culinary Cliffs Notes

Ruth Tobias — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 14:00:00 GMT

A Faraway Foodie Schools Us on What She Misses Most About the Bean's Cuisine

You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone, as everyone from Joni Mitchell to Cinderella has sung — and as a former Bostonian, I can add a blue note or two to their chorus. In 2007, after 10 years as a food writer in Beantown, I moved to Denver for love. But you can’t eat love. And so it is that sometimes, as I’m barreling through yet another bowl of addictive pork green chile, I find myself shedding a tear right into it at the sudden thought of clam chowder; even while I’m wolfing down a fat, sizzling buffalo brat, the image of a lobster roll looms large and luminous.

You bet I return when I can. Take last summer, when I weathered a whirlwind binge on all that was shiny and brand-spanking-new in Boston’s dining scene for a STUFF piece I called “Crash Courses.” But this year, I’m marooned in the Mile-High City with nothing to do but keep a running tally of all the oldies-but-goodies I miss so dearly and daily. May it serve as both a memo of what you townies must never take for granted and a cheat sheet of key terms for you newbies as you learn the local specialties — the culinary Cliffs Notes, let’s call it, in keeping with last year’s theme. Study it well.

Karentika at Baraka Café

Strewn with the bright hues and baubles of the North African seacoast, the enduring surprise off Central Square known as Baraka Café (80½ Pearl Street, Cambridge, 617.868.3951) sets a sleepy, breezy, sunny mood — one punctuated by the showers of sparks the remarkable food sends forth. But it’s the cumin-infused chickpea custard ($3.50), by turns shocked with harissa and soothed by its own airy texture, that I pine for most profoundly. Along with the juicy merguez. And the special-occasion bastilla (squab pie). And, oh, that lemonade swirling with rose petals...

Sliced spicy dry fried salted boneless eel at Peach Farm

I learned more about food from hanging out with a bunch of the Boston Chowhounds than I ever learned in cooking school. Or at least the lessons made for fonder memories. Take the time I’d barely sat down with the gang at Peach Farm (4 Tyler Street, Boston, 617.482.3332) before our waiter appeared with a bucket wherein an eel wriggled for dear life — which wasn’t, apparently, hard enough. Next we saw him, he was on a plate, sliced, deep-fried, and revelatory: salty, peppery, with that funky tang you get desperately hooked on in what must be some small form of poetic justice for the eel.

Peking duck at New King Fung Garden

Served in the most ramshackle of surroundings at New King Fung Garden (74 Kneeland Street, Boston, 617.357.5262), the most royal dish that is this Mandarin masterpiece ($37.95) has to be ordered a day in advance, then savored forever afterward, both as an unforgettable edible and an exemplar of incongruity. Arriving in three courses — a soulful stir fry, a refreshing soup, and a frenzied free-for-all of fried rind accompanied by pancakes and hoisin — it’s a glistening gem in the Chinatown rough of cheap wood panel and vinyl. (Since a change in KFG’s ownership, however, it may be worth comparing to Peach Farm’s version. Let me know who wins the taste test!)

Calamari meatballs at The Daily Catch

You’d practically have to be a cephalopod to really feel comfy at The Daily Catch (323 Hanover Street, Boston, 617.523.8567), so tight is the squeeze for us bonebags. Of course, then you’d also have to be your own dinner. It’s on squid, after all, that this tiny North Ender has made its household name — and though it’s particularly famous fried, it was in the garlic-and-herb-flecked form of polpetti di calamari ($6) that I’d eat so much of the stuff I’d nearly turn the place upside-down trying to maneuver my belly out the door.

Ejotes al mojo de ajo at the Forest Café

Of all the things I never thought I’d miss upon moving from Boston to Denver, Mexican food’s got to be numero uno. The Forest Café (1682 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.661.7810), however, avoids the gaffes to which most yanqui stabs at cocina mexicana amount to pull off pleasures like these veritable green-bean French fries ($6), charred and punchy with garlic and lime. (Still, I won’t actually be packing my return bags until the day a Bostonian pulls off a batch of green chile.)

Haw moak at Khao Sarn

The very name smacks of faraway adventure, evoking a sun-soaked, thatch-fringed Chiang Mai alley crisscrossed by the steaming carts of hawkers. And since the dish lives up to it, don’t let the iffy English description — steamed salmon or chicken custard ($14.95) — on the menu at Khao Sarn (250 Harvard Street, Brookline, 617.566.7200)

give you pause. It’s essentially a subtle, lightly set curry, more redolent of kaffir lime, basil, and the banana leaf it’s wrapped in than it is especially spicy. (Throw in an order of the dried-shrimp-and-spinach roll-ups called miang kum to further prove you’ve long since passed Pad Thai 101.)

Kaddo at the Helmand

Of all the no-brainers on my list, this may be duh number one. The ever-popular pièce de résistance ($7.50) at the Helmand (143 1st Street, Cambridge, 617.492.4646) turns a baby pumpkin into a near-pudding of caramelization, topped with dollops of tomato-tinged beef and garlicky yogurt sauces. Rich and hearty to the chunky core, this Afghani specialty serves above all as proof that, geopolitics schmeopolitics, we should all just get along for good eating’s sake.

The cheese cart at Troquet

In the post–Formaggio Kitchen era (ca. 1996 F.K., when the legendary store’s aging caves were built), cheese plates are a given. But the great ones remain few and far between. Troquet (140 Boylston Street, Boston, 617.695.9463) was one of the first places in town to do it right. Owner Chris Campbell and his well-versed crew present an ever-changing array of more than a dozen varieties (three cheeses for $13 or six for $24) with panache, so you can discover and rediscover such goodies as gooey, two-milk Piedmontese Rosso di Lago and sprightly goat’s-milk Selles sur Cher, accompanied by sugared nuts, fruit, brioche, raisin bread, and a satisfying sense of your own superior, Troquet-shaped taste in cheese.

Brasserie Jo in the rain

To enter Brasserie Jo (120 Huntington Avenue, Boston, 617.425.3240) on a rainy afternoon is not simply to enter Brasserie Jo on a rainy afternoon — it’s to walk out of the mists of 1930s Paris into the glow emanating from the backlit Art Deco bar, as a smooth operator in vest and tie fetches you a spot of Sancerre, perhaps, and a proper croque monsieur. It’s to be transported to the jazz age in all its mellow elegance. You’ll heave a sigh when the sun comes out.

Cake from Bova’s between 2 and 6 a.m.

Cake’s the very pith of celebration. But no cake quite like that served at Bova’s (134 Salem Street, Boston, 617.523.5601) befits the most special occasion of all: solitary, predawn drunken stupors. Therein would I stumble from my fourth-floor North End apartment down to the 24/7 bakery whence the dreamy aroma wafted through my windows — only to return with a half-a-foot cube of chocolate or white cake ($2.75), two solid inches of which were icing, and gorge until I conked out, face smeared with crumbs and a smile.

Mint coffee at Algiers Coffee House

Tallest of ivory towers? Harvard’s a pit of philistinism compared to the café at its center, Algiers Coffee House (40 Brattle Street, Cambridge, 617.492.1557). In the quiet amid the Moorish flourishes of this two-story sanctuary, a cup of mint coffee topped with whipped cream ($3.25) goes down like some divine elixir. (And unlike most drinks consumed in a collegiate setting, it stays down, too.)

Filet de thon saisi aux deux coulis pimentés at The Elephant Walk

Show me a place that’s been around for 20 years, and I’ll show you a place with at least one cherished signature dish (quickly, before I eat it). In the case of French-Cambodian fixture The Elephant Walk (900 Beacon Street, Boston, 617.247.1500), the candidates are myriad, but my nominee defies categorization and even common culinary sense: pan-seared, breadcrumb-dusted, sliced tuna loin over crispy pear-scallion ravioli with a duo of red and green chili cream sauces ($19.95). Sounds fussy, tastes simply heady.

An after-dinner round (or two) at Stanza dei Sigari

As a Prohibition-era speakeasy marked by a stogie-shaped sign, this subterranean cigar bar in the North End could easily have surrendered to expectations for Sopranos-inflected kitsch. Instead, Stanza dei Sigari (292 Hanover Street, Boston, 617.227.0295) is la cosa vera — part humidor, part eye-opening showcase of smoking-related memorabilia, and part connoisseur’s leather-trimmed perch, what with a smart selection of single malts and cordials alike (as well as everything in between). So cool it with the Paulie Walnuts impressions when you’re here, capisce?

Steamers at Durgin-Park

To an eight-year-old visiting from Oklahoma, Durgin-Park (340 Faneuil Hall Marketplace, Boston, 617.227.2038) seemed a veritable Disneyland of New England quaintness. Those creaky stairs! Those long, red-checkered cafeteria tables! Those quacking accents! And above all — those heaping bowls of seashells only the adults got to play with! Durgin-Park became my own private beacon, and when I finally reached it again 20 years later, those steamers (market price) were everything I imagined: a sea spray of melted butter, lemon squeezes, and clam juice that tasted of the city I knew I belonged in.

The Cubano at City Bar

Chez Henri’s take on the Cuban-style ham and cheese may be much —and justly — ballyhooed, but its counterpart ($11) at City Bar (61 Exeter Street, Boston, 617.933.4800) occupies the top spot in my heart precisely for the greater secrecy that surrounds it. Strictly from the standpoint of sandwich construction, it’s every bit as classically good — but take the trappings into account, and you’ve got yourself a winner, from the luxe dim-lit setting to signature infused cocktails like the tropically tinged tequila julep.

The bar at Sel de la Terre Long Wharf

If you find yourself at the Sel de La Terre flagship on Long Wharf (255 State Street, Boston, 617.720.1300), why not try turning left instead of right at the entrance? To the latter lies the perfectly lovely dining room — but to the former is one of the waterfront’s coziest hideouts. There are fat leather armchairs and a loveseat in the alcove. There are cocktails touched with such aromatic stuff as lavender and orgeat, and cognac served over an open flame. There is, in short, a simultaneous sense of urbanity and intimacy the Back Bay branch just can’t quite muster.

St. Anthony’s pizza at Pizzeria Regina

A confession from a red-blooded American chauvinist slob in a female Italophile’s body: I can eat a whole large pizza by myself in one sitting. The only qualification is that the sitting has to occur in my erstwhile North End apartment over a pie ($18.99) from the 80-year-old oven of Pizzeria Regina (11½ Thacher Street, Boston, 617.227.0765) down the block, a pie covered with both mozz and parm, two kinds of sausage, roasted onions and peppers, and the legendary garlic oil that lingers on in both mind and mouth for just about ever. Note to newbies: arm yourself with Altoids.

The Palmyra at No. 9 Park

Everyone — at least everyone with a yen for the hooch — knows that No. 9 Park (9 Park Street, Boston, 617.742.9991) was one of the epicenters of Boston’s craft-cocktail scenequake. But not everyone knows just how long and hard the bar’s been shaking. You can pinpoint it down to a single drink: the Palmyra ($13). Created by opening bar manager Tom Mastricola, it combines Rain vodka, lime juice, and mint simple syrup to make for a streamlined mojito that still keeps the Brahmin barflies abuzz.

Honor roll

Scott Kearnan — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 14:00:00 GMT

Notable Boston Alumni Who've Gone to the Head of the Class

With the annual influx of college students returning for the fall semester, we can’t help but wonder what brilliant, beautiful minds will next emerge from Boston’s famed universities. However, we’re not simply some intellectual filling station where students come to gas up their IQ before going out to cure cancer, solve the energy crisis, and buy the world a Coke. Our schools make us a city where interesting, ambitious people discover their passions, hone their talents, and develop their personalities (and learn how to handle their liquor along the way). We’ve culled through our class rosters for alumni who spent their school days here in the Bean, each representing a familiar student archetype you’ll recognize from any yearbook. Chatting about their favorite classes and treasured watering holes helped us relive the student experience that’s such a vital part of Boston’s big picture … without resorting to keg stands.

Best Dressed

Clinton Kelly — co-host of What Not to Wear

It’s a perfect fit that Clinton Kelly chose his college based on fashion sense. “I’m moderately embarrassed by it,” he admits, acknowledging his initial attraction to Boston College was based on its inclusion in the satirical tome The Official Preppy Handbook. “I grew up in middle-class Long Island suburbia, and I wanted to get the hell out,” laughs Kelly. Once he did, he used extra cash from a summer waiter job, plus a great fake ID, to trade campus keg parties for downtown nightclubs, the dining hall for favorite spots like the Cactus Club. But he didn’t just study the art of fabulous while at BC. A Communications major in the class of ’91, he learned the skills needed to become a multimedia fashion maven. Now the former president of the university chorale is even working on a musical he likens to The Music Man. “Except this is more, like, the makeover man,” he says. But surely even Kelly couldn’t avoid every indignity of college life? “I ran out of Mary Ann’s bombed and hopped on the T in the middle of winter,” he remembers of one fuzzy night at the ultimate BC dive bar. “I had to jump out and vomit in the street. Then I passed out on the side of Comm Ave. Some good Samaritan called me a cab, but the driver threw me out. I was a mess!” A hot mess, of course.

Highest Marks

Erik Weihenmayer — the only blind person to climb Mt. Everest

The best students are those who learn to teach by example. Erik Weihenmayer attended three Boston area schools, spending his teenage years at Carroll Center for the Blind in Newton, studying as an undergrad at BC (’91), and earning a Master’s in Middle School Education from Lesley University (’93). But the active outdoorsman made his biggest mark outside the classroom: in 2001, he became the only blind person to reach the top of Mt. Everest. Not impressive enough? In 2002, he joined fewer than 100 climbers in history to stand atop all “Seven Summits,” the highest peaks on each continent. Weihenmayer doesn’t consider these daredevil feats, but accomplishments achieved through logic (his hands “scan” ledges to chart his climb) and solid communication with his climbing team. “I always worried the adventure of my life was over,” says Weihenmayer, who was blind by 13. “You’re sitting in the [school] cafeteria, listening to the jokes, wondering, ‘Am I going to be listening to life go by, stuck on the sidelines my whole life?’ ” Not even close. Weihenmayer also scuba dives and skydives, and he’s sought after as an author (his book Touch the Top of the World has been published in 10 countries and six languages) and motivational speaker, travelling everywhere from Tibet, to teach with Braille Without Borders, to here in the Hub, where he’s worked with Lesley and the Boston Public Schools to share his inspirational message with students. “Life should be a great adventure,” he says. “That doesn’t mean you’re necessarily climbing scary mountains or rocketing to Mars, but that you’re motivated from within.”

Big Bird on Campus

Caroll Spinney — “Big Bird” and “Oscar the Grouch”

Attention, flirting freshmen: here’s a pick-up line you just can’t beat — “My dad is Big Bird.” Caroll Spinney says his son threw around the weight of dad’s big, yellow feathers to pick up chicks at Lesley University (hey, it sure beats “You on Facebook?”). But Spinney is a father figure to anyone who spent their pre-school years with Sesame Street, having played Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch since the show’s debut 40 years ago. He first studied illustration and commercial art at the Art Institute of Boston in the 1950s but took some time off to join the Air Force (Big Bird flew around dropping bombs in the Korean War). Commuting from Acton on a scholarship, he didn’t have much time for college debauchery, but Big Bird got his start entertaining kids with $8 birthday puppet shows for rugrats in Wellesley and Chestnut Hill. Moving on to local TV shows, he eventually was discovered by Muppets creator Jim Henson and asked to join his new show, Sesame Street. Now in his 70s, Spinney is an active older bird, living in Connecticut, taping in New York, and leaving the nest frequently for guest lectures and commencement addresses. But though being the man behind the bird has helped him wow crowds of college grads and get his son some dates, not everyone has been impressed. “One boy told him [Spinney’s son], ‘Your father’s not Big Bird. Big Bird’s played by a woman!’ ” He chuckles about his son’s college stories. “Being named Caroll wasn’t always an asset.”

The Nerd

Seth Grahame-Smith — author of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

“Apparently my parents didn’t love me enough or something, because I went in with a lot to prove,” says Seth Grahame-Smith, self-described overachieving “big film/TV dork” at Emerson College (’98). Considering that this film student’s first three books were titled The Big Book of Porn, The Spider-Man Handbook, and How to Survive a Horror Movie, we’re not exactly inclined to disagree with the nerd assessment. But when Grahame-Smith’s latest, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, became a bestseller earlier this year, he didn’t just create a cult favorite: he pioneered an entirely new book genre, the literary mash-up. PPZ retains about 85 percent of original text from Jane Austen’s English class staple, interweaving Grahame-Smith’s irreverent, fan-boy addition of brain-munching legions of the undead roaming the English countryside. Its sleeper success earned him a two-book deal (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter debuts in April), put PPZ in movie development, and led him to a role as co-creator and exec producer of Hard Times, an upcoming MTV comedy series about a class brain who finds popularity when his significant — ahem, endowments — are revealed. Based in L.A., the writer remembers The Pour House and Charlie Flynn’s (now Intermission Tavern) as two favorite spots for studying his draughts, but there’s one part of Boston he doesn’t miss: “I wasn’t much of a Lansdowne Street guy.” A dork on Lansdowne? That mash-up makes petticoat-clad zombies sound quaint.

Miss Congeniality

Elisabeth Hasselbeck — co-host of
The View

Elisabeth Hasselbeck inspires strong opinion. If you lean right, you may love the conservative voice Hasselbeck brings to The View and appreciate her mascot status as a PYT in the GOP; if you lean left, you probably can’t stomach her politicking without squirting morning coffee through your nose. But either way, you’re likely a little intrigued by how her outward appearance — clasped hands, eager smile, demure ensembles — belies one of the most argumentative personalities in the talk-show biz. She was just as opinionated in the Boston College classroom. “I think if you went back you’d see parts of that quality in me,” says Hasselbeck, who is originally from Cranston, Rhode Island. “The willingness to hold your breath and feel that rumbling in your stomach until you finally say what’s on your mind.” Naturally, Hasselbeck used her brain’s right side as a class of ’99-er, a Fine Arts major who created an Independent Study in Industrial Design and designed shoes for PUMA after college. (Her shameful leftie-brain love? Calculus.) BC’s also where she met footballer husband Tim, enjoyed those famous Notre Dame game days, partied in “The Mods” (but never in “Scary-Ann’s!”), and valued self-discipline as captain of the girl’s softball team. “To this day, if I see the number 4:44 [practice time] on a clock, I freak out. It reminds me of push-ups ’til you’re puking!” But she most loved the campus’s camaraderie, a dress rehearsal for her TV career to come: “We were encouraged to disagree in a civil way. [And] have conversations … on a platform of respect, regardless of perspective.” And hey, if such lessons get momentarily forgotten, at least those mid-morning catfights are good for ratings.

Class Jock

Chris Nowinski — WWE wrestler turned activist

The stereotype of the “dumb jock” is as deeply entrenched as the first wedgie we ever received from one. Yet not only does Chris Nowinski have a Harvard-educated brain, he’s turned his history of head injuries into a personal crusade to protect yours. Nowinski was a typical football player, hanging with buds at Crimson Sports Grille (now Redline) and once dragging lawn chairs to the steps of the school library to watch the film shoot of Good Will Hunting. But after graduating cum laude (’00), he shirked the rat race and followed up his sociology degree from Harvard with studies at Killer Kowalski’s Pro Wrestling School in Malden. (“Looking back, it seems a little odd — but at the time, not so crazy!” he laughs.) Next came a spot on wrestling reality show Tough Enough and life as a WWE performer, laying the smackdown on opponents with a signature finishing move, “The Honor Roll.” But he hung up his spandex after a year and a half of “toughing it out” through an estimated six concussions, which led to memory loss, migraines, sleepwalking, and depression. Adopting the mantle of advocacy, he’s since authored books, impacted policy, and co-founded local think tank the Sports Legacy Institute (visit www.sportslegacy.org for info on an October 21 fundraiser at the Langham Hotel). Now, he co-directs a center for head trauma study at the BU School of Medicine. There, the Harvard grad continues to literally expand the mind: he’s convinced more than 100 athletes and former members of the military to donate their gray matter to the center’s brain bank. Smart move.

Drama Queens

The Casilio Triplets — performance artists

You remember what those artistic types were like at school: always raging against the machine, sticking it to The Man, and buying 100 percent recycled-material notebook paper from small, minority-owned boutiques (even the coffee stains were Fair Trade) while the rest of us thoughtfully debated the merit of “beer before liquor...” Older and wiser, we’re now more grateful for those who push boundaries and buttons, and that’s why we love sisters Alicia, Kelly, and Sara Casilio, identical triplets from Franklin and all MassArt grads (’01). They share DNA and artistic vision, conceiving and executing performance-art pieces that have taken them from Iraq War protests on the steps of the U.S. Capitol — dressed as a representative World Trade Center victim, American soldier, and Iraqi civilian, with lengths of red ribbon reflecting their respective death tolls — to guerilla exhibitions at the ICA, where they constructed makeshift platforms and encouraged patrons to pose and be viewed as art themselves. In 2006, they teamed with National Geographic photographer Cary Wolinsky to form triiibe, an artist collective dedicated to art delivering social commentary. They’ve received accolades and angry criticism, dropped jaws in confusion and awe, received spontaneous street donations (and a 2009 Massachusetts Cultural Council grant), and been hassled by police. But it’s all worth it, if these young artists represent a new movement in local performance art. “The thing we like about doing it in Boston is that people don’t expect it here,” says Kelly. Expected or not, we’re glad that our city is suddenly seeing triple visionaries.

Buzzed in the Berkshires

Sara Faith Alterman — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 15:53:00 GMT

Western Massachusetts has long been a considered a pinnacle of idyllic New England, a perfect spot to retreat from the mania of urban bustle and the snore-worthy monotony of the suburbs. Native Americans touted the healing properties of the crystalline mountain spring water that flowed from the Berkshires, and in the nineteenth century, luxury spas popped up all over the mountains to make good use of the gorgeous scenery and the “medicinal” waters. The fashionably weary from across the region would swarm such spas in search of a quick and restorative getaway, hoping that the celebrated springs would clear their minds and cure their medical woes.

Fast forward into the twenty-first century, and that same pristine Berkshire water is being distilled into premium booze.

Now we’re talking.

The Berkshire Mountain Distillers popped up in the southwest corner of the state a few years ago, when owner Chris Weld and his wife came to the area looking for a change of scenery and lifestyle after spending more than a decade on the West Coast. The couple serendipitously found a derelict apple farm that was up for sale, and they soon decided to buy it and try their hand at cultivating an orchard. “I wish I had some glamorous story behind the distillery, like a long family history of bootlegging, but I don’t,” says Weld, a former physician’s assistant with a Masters degree in emergency medicine who’d studied biochemistry in college. “In the process of bringing the farm back, we realized we had 500 apple trees and didn’t know what to do with the fruit, so we decided to make some brandies with it. Then we learned that when you get a distillery permit, you can make what you want.”

The seemingly abrupt career change has suited Weld quite well. “It’s great,” he says, “because it’s a blend of the things I like to do. I’ve always enjoyed the outdoors — agriculture, farming. My father had a green thumb. And there’s biochemistry in the distillation, plus the bonus of working with local materials, like using our own apples.”

This combination of luck, a background in chemistry, and Weld’s lifelong love of agriculture resulted in a line of premium, hand-crafted, small-batch spirits — including Greylock Gin, Ice Glen Vodka, Ragged Mountain Rum, and Ethereal Gin — that many local industry players are raving over. And premium they are: the vodka is liquid crystal, the rum rich and complex enough to sip on its own. And two gins equal two times the fun, with the Greylock playing the role of a smooth operator and the Ethereal living up to its name, brimming with delicate botanicals and perfumed sunshine.

It helps that Weld’s farmland is rich with history, which makes its products all the more special. In the 1800s, the 73-acre property was home to Henry Peck’s Berkshire Soda Springs Hotel, a luxury spa retreat for the chic Victorian elite, who flocked from New York City to the countryside for the fresh air and what they thought was the perfect rejuvenating tonic — the mountain spring water. The hotel burned down at the end of the century, making way for the subsequent landowners to plant an orchard. Weld and his wife found the property somewhat by accident, and voila! A business was born. “We’d been living on the West Coast for about 15 years when we felt the tug of our New England roots,” says East Coast native Weld, who at the time was working in an emergency room. “Every summer we’d have a pilgrimage back east to be with our families. And during those trips we’d drive around New England, just really focusing on Western Mass. Some friends from here would send us what they’d call ‘house porn’ — real estate magazines that we’d pore through. One random week we were home, a realtor ended up getting a listing for this farm, so we looked at it. It was serendipitous.”

Serendipity begat industry, and Berkshire Mountain Distillers became the first legal distillery in the Berkshires since the dark and sober days of Prohibition.

The spring water aside, the distillery uses other locally sourced ingredients to produce the spirits — obviously, locally grown fruits are a given, since the property is also an orchard. Right now, Weld ages the Ragged Mountain Rum in bourbon barrels purchased from Woodford, but once Weld’s own bourbon has finished aging (legally, bourbon must be aged in a “virgin” barrel), he’ll repurpose the barrels for his rum. It’s this dedication to local ingredients and materials that makes the spirits extra attractive to socially conscious consumers and business owners who are loco for local.

“Local, small-batch liquors are becoming popular, which lines up with the local food trend,” says area cocktail maven/Berkshire Mountain Distillers brand ambassador Adam Lantheaume. The master mixologist uses the spirits in his how-to cocktail classes, held regularly at The Boston Shaker, a store-within-a-store at Grand (374 Somerville Ave, Somerville, 617.623.2429). “Spending locally helps the local economy, creates more jobs, helps keep money in the community. Supporting local businesses is near and dear to me … I’m now a local business, so that concept hits home with me more than when I was working in corporate America. [Before founding The Boston Shaker] I tried to be local, but now it’s got a whole new meaning.”

At a Boston Shaker cocktail basics class, Lantheaume produces two bottles of Greylock Gin, which his students will use (once they’re done struggling with jiggers and strainers and the complexities of producing a slinky lemon twist) to create a French 75, a concoction made from gin, simple syrup, fresh lemon juice, and champagne. A few people wrinkle their nose discreetly at first — an understandable response. Gin elicits that reaction from a lot of people. My friend Rachel refers to “the gin incident of 1998” with the sort of self-deprecating wisdom that only a retch-filled night of lessons learned can produce. I, too, had only experienced medicinally heady G&Ts before discovering that gin can be delicate and flowery and lovely — not, as suggested by my prior experiences, something that could only taste like the liquid potpourri that simmers over a tea light on the tank of your grandmother’s toilet.

Even if you’ve proclaimed yourself “not a gin person,” give Greylock or Ethereal gins a shot (no pun intended) anyway. That night at Grand, while sipping the bubbly cocktail, the fruits of much fumbling labor, people gushed over the clean taste of the drink, over the gin’s pleasantly underwhelming presence. It’s true — a lot of gins will dominate your drink like it’s been a naughty, naughty senator in need of a spanking. And that’s no fun for anyone.

To try your hand at whipping up a local artisanal cocktail using the Berkshire Mountain Distillery spirits, head to The Wild Duck (96 Salem Street, Boston, 617.248.8893), Downtown Wine & Spirits (225 Elm Street, Somerville, 617.625.7777), Liquor World (13 White Street, Cambridge, 617.547.3110), or Seiyo Sushi Wine Shop (1721C Washington Street, Boston, 617.447.2183), which all keep various Berkshire products on the shelf and, if necessary, can order anything that’s not in stock.

For those more inclined toward a night on the town — and for the unapologetically lazy — there are Berkshire-friendly options too. Toro (1704 Washington Street, Boston, 617.536.4300) proudly offers Ragged Mountain Rum as a sipper, and the bar staff at Hungry Mother (233 Cardinal Medeiros Avenue, Cambridge, 617.499.0090) are all too eager to mix up a “bartender’s choice” ($10) with Greylock Gin. Hell, even the self-proclaimed cocktail-wary staff at Atwood’s Tavern (877 Cambridge Street, Cambridge, 617.864.2792) keep Berkshire spirits on their menu for premium mixing, as do Lineage (242 Harvard Street, Brookline, 617.232.0065) and The Independent (75 Union Square, Somerville, 617.440.6022).

At the notoriously and lovably zany Upstairs on the Square (91 Winthrop Street, Cambridge, 617.864.1933), they keep the cocktail list pretty in pink with the Molly Ringwald ($10), which features Greylock Gin, St. Germaine, freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, and elderflower syrup. Obviously, I love the Journalist ($12) at Rialto (1 Bennett Street, Cambridge, 617.661.5050) because, unlike my industry, this drink is strong, thanks to its Greylock Gin, triple sec, and sweet and dry vermouth, which are finished with lemon juice and bitters. We can’t vouch for whether that sparkling spring water will have the same restorative properties in, say, gin form as it would during a steam facial on a long weekend’s mountain retreat. But it sure tastes good, and it’s local — we all can raise a glass to that.

Belly Up

Scott Kearnan — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 15:29:00 GMT

Everyone has a favorite dive bar. Even the snootiest among us like to go slummin’ for happy hour every so often. And in Boston, there are dive bars aplenty. Take a crawl through the Bean’s (un)finest dives, and you’ll soon realize why so many of the clientele often look like they just escaped from prison. We’re talking small, dank, windowless spaces where the bathrooms haven’t been scrubbed in years and the air is thick with the acrid odor of cheap hooch and questionable decisions. Stick around along enough, and you’ll inevitably find yourself unwillingly paired up with a total stranger who feels compelled to share his life story — and the fascinating history behind his snake, anchor, and MOM tattoos. Does he want to beat you up, or make you his new best friend? Either way, go along for the ride (it’s easier that way).

In a city constantly trending toward the upscale while most of us are seeing our paychecks shrink (if we’re still getting them at all), dive bars are more than a setting for inebriated economic stimulus — they’re also freaking fun. Sure, you might sometimes find yourself one of the few folks bellying up to the bar — more often than not, it was just us and the plastic shot glasses during our run-through of local favorites — but if that means you and your posse can commandeer the jukebox all night or take your pick from the lonely barflies hankering for a kind word (assuming they can peel their foreheads off the bar to talk), then it’s a win-win. Or maybe you’ll land inside one of these joints on a thirsty Thursday, when loyal locals, impoverished students, and curious bystanders swarm in to get their drink on, eat greasy gobs of goodness, and maybe even play a game of daaahhts. For your reading (and drinking) pleasure, we’ve compiled a list of deserving dive bars that best capture the spirit of their respective neighborhoods. You want mah-tinis? We ain’t got no mah-tinis here, kid. Just dollar drafts, colorful characters, and good times. Dive on in.

And then take a shower. Quickly.

South Boston

Murphy’s Law (837 Summer Street, South Boston, 617.269.6667)

Finding a dive bar in Southie is like shooting fish in a barrel — and the barrel is filled with green beer. (And the fish look like they wear brass knuckles.) But while forbidding, steel-doored closets with a keg are a dime a dozen, Murphy’s Law is a classic South Boston dive that won’t get your knees knocking with the fear of ending up like a day player in The Departed. On the other hand, you may feel like you’re in a scene out of Gone Baby Gone, the directorial debut of Boston’s own Ben Affleck, which filmed scenes here (DVD copies are available behind the bar). Despite Southie’s surly reputation, there’s a sense of good humor at Murphy’s, from the row of superhero action figures (Superman, Catwoman, and Aquaman, oh my!) arranged in frozen combat on an overhead bar rail to the genial attitude of the staff. Any bartender who asks, “Ready for your next round?” when you’ve drank less than a third of your beer is our kind of dive dude. Need a drinking game? Play “Spot the Shamrock” by spying for as many clovers as you can, or marvel at the genealogical wonder of all the Irish last names scattered about, from the political bumper stickers plastered on the wall to the photos and news clippings on display by the tap.

Barfly Buzz: Look closer, jokers. Discreetly tucked away in the men’s bathroom is a fuse box. You didn’t hear that from us.* (*Note: STUFF is not responsible for any broken jaws sustained in the commission of drunken pranks.)

Mission Hill

Punter’s Pub (450 Huntington Avenue, Boston. 617.472.2330)

Never before has the phrase “hole in the wall” been such an apropos description of a Boston dive bar. At Punter’s Pub, a relatively dark and dank spot near Mission Hill, the metaphoric becomes the literal: if you want food, you’ll need to shout your order through a small window in the wall to neighboring takeout joint, University House of Pizza (UHOP, if you’re from the neighborhood). If receiving your slice of pepperoni with the covert thrill of a drug deal doesn’t provide enough exuberant, sketchy pleasure, just bask in the no-frills glory of Punter’s. There are few bells and whistles here, merely a wide assortment of hodgepodge wood paneling, from the warped and occasionally uneven flooring that (literally) keeps you on your toes to the hard booth seating that creates the sore butts of a church pew and makes slouching an impossibility — an etiquette gift from the Drunken Manners Finishing School, perhaps. Combine that aesthetic with the classy addition of a Big Buck Hunter arcade game, and you have an inadvertently “rustic” aura … if you squint enough through the beer goggles. But don’t bother bringing your plastic to this woodsy watering hole — it’s cash only.

Barfly Buzz: If you’re going to party at Punter’s, do it with pitchers: the “Big Bertha,” a positively trough-sized portion of beer that’s approximately the size of four pitchers (and that requires a four-person minimum to order), will help make the Northeastern and Wentworth clientele look good faster.

Brighton

Mary Ann’s (1937 Beacon Street, Brighton, 617.566.3253)

Everyone has hooked up with Mary Ann. No, really. Nestled like a windowless armpit in the crook of Cleveland Circle (and blessed with as appealing an aroma), Mary Ann’s is a dive bar that has been a living, breathing institution for local BC kids since the ’70s. It’s been far less popular with local authorities in that time, subject to numerous run-ins over its, shall we say, occasionally “generous” admission policy. Today, that means out-of-state license holders will even be required to “sign in” with their name, license number, date of birth, SAT score, list of extracurricular activities, and 1000-word essay on “a significant character-building moment” (okay, maybe just the first three will do) at the entrance. Even as recently as November 2008, Mary Ann’s was threatened with closure due to its failure to install a sprinkler system, which could usefully serve double-duty as a floor scrubber for this sticky, beer-soaked corral of co-eds (don’t worry — a system was eventually installed). Of course, skirting regulation seems to be another tradition here: a vending machine in the bar’s corner, one that looks like it hasn’t been restocked since the average customer’s date of conception, gets around Boston’s “must serve food” law for bars. Despite the complete lack of comfort, style, or drinks served in anything but plastic cups, there’s nowhere else in Boston where you will find a weekend line this long to enter a bar so unpleasant. Mary Ann’s might not be pretty, but she gives up a good time every weekend.

Barfly Buzz: Definitely use the bathroom before you arrive — the men’s room has three urinals crammed into a space that should probably accommodate one, resulting in an interesting level of intimacy when you and your buddy’s backsides high-five during busy times.

Bay Village

Jacques Cabaret (79 Broadway, Boston, 617.426.8902)

Here at STUFF, we’re all about opening hearts and minds, and stomping stereotypes under our pointy, fashionable heels. So to those who make the unfair presumption that all gay bars are chic, upscale repositories of lemongrass martinis and urbane sophistication (how dare you judge so!), please allow us to offer Jacques. Hidden away in the tiny residential neighborhood of Bay Village, Jacques is a relic from the Great Gay Life, P.W.G. — that’s “Pre-Will-&-Grace,” when queer subculture operated under a veil of dark mystery and sideways glances. Nightly drag shows from its cast of glamorous “gals,” including stalwart local legends like Mizery, Destiny, and Kris Knievil, combine riotous performance art with the boldest, baddest wigs and weaves (and, occasionally, unitards) this side of Vegas. But for a truly authentic experience, come on weekdays. Friday and Saturday nights are regularly co-opted by “bachelerotte and Bud Light hell,” as one queen described a recent influx of suburban interlopers, so it’s worth scoping the gender-bending regulars who stop by on, say, an ordinary Tuesday. They’re usually holding court — sometimes in plain clothes, sometimes in pleather — by the lone pool table or checking out the local bands that play in the small live-music room downstairs.

Barfly Buzz: Ladies (and “ladies”), always remember to wear underwear for a trip to Jacques. You might think going commando is cute, but more than once we’ve seen audience participation go awry when girls dragged onstage had their skirt hems flipped by a drag queen unawares.

Allston

Model Café (7 North Beacon Street, Allston, 617.254.9365)

Where have all the cowboys gone? They gave their slim-fitting, dark-washed jeans to the emo dude crying in the corner, that’s what happened. At the Model (pronounced “Moe-DELLE” by those looking to evoke tongue-in-cheek pretension), you’ll find the punk lifeblood of Allston saddled up to the bar and hooked into an IV of PBR. In terms of its minimal décor, think Urban Outfitters on a severe budget: plastic stools wrapped in leopard print, a crystal chandelier suspended from one ceiling (for the ironic-classiness factor), and wall art depicting an oversized grenade, to evoke that rock-and-roll aesthetic. Seating is scarce, and you’re more likely to find yourself milling between the two sparse, cavernous rooms, tapping your foot to a soundtrack of indie bands, than lounging in comfort with the hipster of your dreams — though you may find said skinny-jean-wearing honey once the night wears on, as the 2 a.m. closing time (not as common in the Allston ’hood as it is in downtown areas) attracts a late crowd. If you’re a people watcher, though, this is absolutely the place to be. Few other spots can paint as panoramic a snapshot of Boston’s underground music scene. They’re all here — those who play music, those who watch them, those who sleep with them, and those who simply drink with them.

Barfly Buzz: Despite its name, the Model Café doesn’t serve food. But next door you’ll find Grasshopper (1 North Beacon Street, Allston, 617.254.8883), a vegan restaurant beloved by the scenester set. When in Rome …

Cambridge

The Cantab Lounge (738 Mass Ave, Cambridge, 617.354.2685)

Are you the kind of lounge lizard who finds yourself bemoaning that there “just aren’t enough good bluegrass joints around these Yankee woods?” Do you gurgle with excitement at the notion of a resident funk band named The Chicken Slacks? Do crusty regulars, dusty decor, and barrooms so narrow and crowded that you’re bound to butt-dial at least half your phonebook leave you breathless with anticipation? Are you still reading? Then the answer is yes, and the destination is the Cantab Lounge. The Cantab is a pretense-free counterpoint to the average Cambridge watering hole, where academics converse while warming the stools with their WGBH tote bags. Instead, live music on a nightly basis makes it a place to dance and listen, not see and be seen, though the rotating genres are certainly a reflection of Cambridge’s eclecticism. There’s open mic on Mondays, bluegrass on Tuesdays, and live soul, jazz, R&B, and funk throughout the rest of the week. And downstairs, Club Bohemia plays host to poetry slams, underground comedy, and assorted local bands. It’s one of the few dive bars you’ll find where the variety of music rivals the variety of cheap beer.

Barfly Buzz: You want character? Candido (“Candy”) Delgado has been Cantab’s house guitarist for more than 30 damn years. He performs with The Fatback Band on Fridays and Saturday, and he hosts Candy’s Jam on Wednesdays and Sundays, when guests can tote in their own instruments and sign up to play alongside the acts.

The Fenway

TC’s Lounge (1 Haviland Street, Boston, 617.247.8109)

If dive bars had theme songs, then the act of entering TC’s Lounge would be accompanied by the porn-funk mantra “bow-chicka-bow-wow.” Tucked away on a side street by Berklee College of Music, TC’s looks like Applebee’s on Viagra and cheap liquor, and it’s overflowing with tchotchkes, bric-a-brac, and a whole lot of junk that screams “pure sex, man.” An arcade claw game is stocked with porn DVDs as prizes, souvenir panties are for sale behind the bar, the ceilings are lined with yellowed movie posters of frat favorites new (Mall Cop) and old (soft-core pinups of girls with perms, leg warmers, and, not infrequently, boxing gloves), and the entire place is wallpapered with dated Polaroid pictures of the debauchery of yore. If there was a mattress with a Penthouse underneath anywhere nearby, this would essentially be the college dorm room of your sketchy older brother who woos chicks with the aromatic freshness of his aerosol deodorant. A tired-looking condom dispenser in the men’s room encourages guests to play it safe, assuming these prophylactics don’t crumble to dust when exposed to light, and a surly sign mounted atop a corner keyboard gives a different anatomical admonition: “Please don’t put your beer — or rear — on the piano!”

Barfly Buzz: There are some offerings for G-rated entertainment, like the handful of video games and the Lord of the Rings-themed pinball machine. But if Gandalf gets you hot, you’re cut off.

North Station

Penalty Box (65 Causeway, Boston)

It’s small, it’s shaped like a square, and there’s a general sense that a fight is about to break out at any given moment — ah yes, the Penalty Box is aptly named. If the family-friendly redevelopments at Fenway 2.0 have led you to believe that sports fans aren’t still a bunch of swilling hooligans either a) drowning their sorrow in too much beer, or b) celebrating their triumphs with too much beer, then the Penalty Box is the sticky-floored antidote to Fenway’s increasingly squeaky-clean rep. If the player photos scattered about don’t make it clear enough, this slightly scary little spot over by TD Banknorth Garden is where Bruins fans gather to watch the game, pound back (more than) a few, and grow increasingly volatile with each bad play — and those are just the hockey moms. Celtics fans, you’ll find teammates in drinking too. But by and large, this no-frills, no-nonsense watering hole is best regarded as a place to drink on the cheap before, after, or during a Garden event — the beer here is less than half the price you’ll find inside there, and if the added cost is a dirty pair of sneakers, so be it.

Barfly Buzz: Bring plenty of cash, not just because cards aren’t accepted, but because the Penalty Box’s ’hood becomes hobo row after sundown — you may need to evade a few vampires shaking Dunkin’ cups to gain entrance.

Boston street food: A moveable feast, with paper napkins

MC Slim JB — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 14:00:00 GMT

Whenever a friend returns from a trip overseas, I always ask, “Did you eat the street food?” I do: it’s fast, it’s cheap, and it offers a revealing glimpse into a culture, showing what ordinary working locals eat. Gobbling bánh mì and pho from roadside stands in Vietnam gave me a culinary tour of the country in miniature: all the essential flavors, ingredients, and historical culinary influences were there to be tasted in a sandwich and a bowl of noodle soup.

Despite the fact that Boston isn’t very friendly to street vendors, a handful of chefs on wheels manage to reflect out multicultural diversity with cheap, delicious food to go. In addition to American classics like frankfurters and barbecue, Bostonians can enjoy cart cuisine from Thailand, Vietnam, China, Mexico, El Salvador, Armenia, Uzbekistan, Lebanon, and Israel. Of course, our worst dining habits are on display too: next to that purveyor of healthy kebabs, there’s usually a caramel-glazed nut stand.

Fortunately, for the most part, Bostonians are not irrational germophobes. The lines at most carts demonstrate that we’ve assessed the risk of food-borne illness from street vendors as acceptably low. My take? If you’ve survived what goes on in some of our most popular fine-dining kitchens, a little dirty hot dog water isn’t going to kill you. So herewith, in all its easily relocated, occasionally hard-to-find glory, is the best of Boston’s street food smorgasbord.

With terrific options like these, it seems a shame that our fair city remains so inhospitable to mobile restaurateurs. Opening a cart in Boston requires braving a ferocious tangle of red tape: inspections, certifications, strictures on locations and operating hours, on and on. It’s nearly a miracle when a purveyor manages to open, like the brand-new Jack and the Bean Bowl, which sells vegetarian bowls (with beans, rice, avocado, cheese, salsa, sour cream, and cilantro) in Copley Square. So support your local pushcart; keep the good ones in business. And the next time your neighborhood association objects to a new food stand on the block, remind them of the thousand great, super-cheap taco trucks in Los Angeles and of how they contribute to the vibrancy of city life there. A town of Boston’s culinary caliber deserves divine street food as much as it does five-star restaurant fare.

CONTINUE READING: Boston street food: A moveable feast, with paper napkins