
For some reason, I think of Cambridge as being in a different country, even though geographically it's practically on my front step. It probably has to do with the fact that it requires a transfer on the T, or a bus ride for the most direct route. I try not to take the bus if I can avoid it. In fact, we took the bus back from Cambridge after our glorious dinner at Chez Henri and witnessed a fight that nearly sparked a race riot while the bus was in motion, but that's another story for another time... In any case, I digress.
I had never been to Chez Henri before. It's hard to believe, I know. Friends have been telling me about this place since I moved to Boston, and with my penchant for French food, you'd think I'd be a regular there by now. I figured it was high time that Dan and I make it over there for dinner, and with
my jaunt to see the Harvard Museum of Natural History on Monday, we settled on meeting up there after he finished teaching. We were glad we did. It was a wonderful way to spend a cold night together across the river.
I arrived early, and having had time to kill I sidled up at the bar for a cocktail and to peruse the menu. I had a periodista cocktail. It's a rum drink with apricot brandy and triple sec. It was tasty and helped chase the cold away after my walk from Harvard. I enjoyed looking over their wine list and menu while waiting for Dan as well as eavesdropping on the folks at the bar. There were two men who had lots to catch up on after not seeing one another for twenty years talking about astrophysics, and a trio of octogenarians who were sipping Manhattans and sharing two Cuban sandwiches three ways. They had stopped in before heading out to snowbird in Florida the next day. Needless to say, there were plenty of interesting subjects for people-watching.