Help!!

I alluded yesterday to the fact that a lot of crime has been going on in Dot recently.  Allow me to recap via the headlines at Universal Hub over the past two days.  We have...

Something unpleasant discovered at Uphams Corner yesterday morning.

Of course Dot was represented in this 14 minute crime wave.

While no deaths occurred, someone lost a fingertip at Florian Hall.

Brawling at Ups and Downs.  Couldn't they have taken their disagreements to Quincy?

An armed holdup at the Happy Superette of all places!

A party house where the parties turn grisly.  Don't accept an invitation here.

This is the Dot news culled from just two days.  While this unpleasantness should be reported, can't someone provide some positive spin to what's going on in Boston's biggest neighborhood.  Dottie Hottie?  Social Butterfly? Help!

Sport life

Somedays you wish you were somewhere else, especially after a few days of Dorchester-strength rain.  It isn't even April yet.  These March showers have prompted some flowers to blooming, the rain and the mild weather for this time of year.

So what does today's illustration have to do with Dorchester?  Not much that I can figure except for the magazine's title and the second feature story.  Death is all around us, even in Spring.  If you keep up with  the local media you know quite a bit of crime has been committed hereabouts recently and not the usual victimless crimes either.  If any more bodies get found in basements, Dorchester's reputation may take a turn for the worse.  It was mildly horrifying/intriguing when the dog fight arena was discovered a few blocks from my house.  When dead men are found decomposing in the cellar, its not as humorous as in Arsenic and Old Lace.  

This isn't to say that Dot isn't home to its share of dotty aunts and eccentric uncles, its just that the killing going on doesn't involve poisoned tea.  Today's capital crimes are committed using bullets and knives.  C'mon criminals!  You're dealing with people not rampaging elephants! 

Thanks to Pulp o' the Day.

Wiki Dot

Wikipedia, which is always in a state of flux, has an updated Dorchester page which seems to be the best version yet.

Any information found in Wikipedia about Dorchester is about as reliable as what you'll find here, which is to say 24-carat reliable if you cotton to a certain viewpoint.  That said, I found this latest edition accurate and well balanced without too much stress on any one facet.  I liked how Dorchester was broken out like a country with it's economy, transportation, education mapped out and described.

I don't feel a need to look up Dorchester on Wikipedia very often but I found the need today.  Naturally, what I wanted to check has disappeared, but this latest version is pretty impressive.  Check it out while you can.  The next time you need to, it will totally different again.  Much like Dorchester when you're not watching.

Let the good times pour

Time got away from me this afternoon so there aren't enough minutes left for me to report today's adventures.  I've got to spruce myself for Dorchester's favorite Saturday night pastime.

That's right.  Saturday is the liveliest night of the week.  The root beer will be flowing while no roots are showing.  That's the Dorchester way.

So tomorrow, instead of reporting on today's adventures, maybe tonight's will prove more interesting...if I can remember.

Anyone coming to Dorchester tonight should remember though, Dot hates a sloppy drunk and don't drink and drive.  Take the T, that way you'll be forced to get home at a decent hour.

Cheers!

Thanks to the Funky Junk Trunk for today's swipe art.  It came from a photo album found in a closet in Upham's Corner.  The picture is dated June 2002 on the back.

I love Jujyfruits

Nothing much happened in Dorchester today, which shouldn't come as much of a surprise.  Nothing much happened that I have to report, which should come as more of a surprise since I can blather on about nothing day in and day out for at least three good, meandering paragraphs.

Fear not, regular reader, I give you todays contents of the Jujy Dreams blog that you should be reading if you don't already.  The archives aren't very deep yet but I expect that a year or so from now you'll be able to learn more about Jujyfruits than you would ever want to normally.

And so:

I admit I don't have a sweet tooth yet, for whatever reason, I have chosen Jujyfruits as an inspiration.  While I don't have a sweet tooth, I have tasted candy.  I wouldn't normally buy it but I've developed my preferences.  I live with someone who loves chocolate but I would be content if I never had another bite of chocolate again.  I prefer harder, more sugar and talc based candies: Sweet Tarts, Shock Tarts, Gobstoppers, even Good 'n' Plenty.  I'm not a big fan of gummy candy and even though Jujyfruits predate Gummi Bears by a half century, they both fall in the same class of candy.  As for the gummy sharks, the gummy worms, the yogurt based gummy candy and the gummy raspberries et. al., you can keep them.  Jujyfruits were first.  

Though gummy candy isn't my favorite, it is slowly turning out that I love Jujyfruits.  I am not paid by Farley's and Sathers to say this and, in fact, I have some misgivings about how the company conducts it business and markets its candy.  If I am not a friend of the owners of the Jujyfruit brand, I am a lover of the Jujyfruit recipe.  

Jujyfruits grow on your tastes.  We have a box in our house that contains mixed candies.  Sometimes we'll want a little sweet after a meal or at tea time so we'll bring out the box and indulge our appetite.  For the past few months, the box has been stocked with jujyfruits left over from my investigations among other things which don't involve me but run the gamut of the candy spectrum.  We noticed last night that the jujyfruits are the things we pick out of the mix and when the box was given a shakeout census, jujyfruits are the least common items on the top layer of the box and the most common at the bottom...as if they settle if neglected too long.  Or, perhaps our jujy-hunger has grown the longer they've been available.

Another sociological Jujy thought experiment.  Before I begin this soul searching though, I would like to state for the record that I love Jujyfruits.  Red, Yellow, Orange, Black, and even Green.

Goings on between Dot and the 'bury

Are they shooting a movie in Dudley Square?  I drove by where the new police station is going up and the cops in hi-viz lime jackets were directing traffic or, rather, watching traffic go by.  There were a couple of trucks on the northern corner unloading sound equipment and spot lights big enough to qualify as Klieg lights, though I doubt any premiers are debuting.  The trucks blocked my view, but it looked like a film crew and maybe some caterers, hair stylists and, dare I suggest, actors were blocking out scenes between the back of the Silver Slipper Restaurant and Drain's House of Style.

The Silver Slipper and Drain's are certainly two Boston landmarks that deserve to be commemorated on film.  Too bad they couldn't have been worked into the verisimilitude of "The Friends of Eddie Coyle."

Further up Warren Avenue, I noticed that Gyro King has closed down in Grove Hall!  One of the reasons I had meandered in that direction was for a gyro.  The other reason was because today was wonderful motorcycle weather after yesterday's relentless rain.  I had taken a shortcut to Blue Hill Avenue and instead of the most beautiful Shwarm-tastic sign in all the Boston metro area, I saw a colorful sign for "Chifipi"

Stuck in traffic about a half block away, I wondered what this Chifipi could be.  I had to navigate traffic on two wheels as I passed but I can tell you this based on the logo painted on the front window: Chi stands for chicken, Fi stands for fish, and though I can't be sure I'll bet dollars to donuts that Pi stands for pizza.  This doesn't bode well, gentle reader.  It takes specialization to become King of anything, be it with gyro meat or purple prose.  I don't know any cook yet who has mastered the trifecta of chicken, fish and pizza pie.

It's worth a future investigation though.




I saw The Friends of Eddie Coyle recently at the Brattle.  Good movie.  Pretty much how the world saw Boston in 1973 and the cinematic image hasn't changed too much if you consider Mystic River, et al.  The Athens of America.

Is Gillette ripping Boston off?

Everyone says the cost of living is cheaper in the South and I thought I'd test that theory.  As everyone knows, Gillette's World Shaving Headquarters is located right at the base of South Boston.  You may not know this, but I live about a mile and a half from there in a straight line down Dot Ave.  Maybe it's two miles.  If I stop for traffic lights, it's five minutes by bicycle.

I went to the Rite Aid drug store on the corner of Savin Hill and Dorchester Avenues to price an eight-pack of Mach 3 razor blades.  As of March 13th the list price was $21.99.  Some people may think that's a bit steep, but Mach 3 employs the latest shaving technology, if you don't mind using the words 'shaving' and 'technology' in the same sentence.

I travelled 1360 miles as the airline flies to New Orleans to check up on the price of an eight-pack of Mach 3s there, among other things.  I went to a Rite Aid on Canal Street, on the corner of North Broad Street, store # 7262, on March 18th.  This is in Mid-City, a neighborhood reminiscent of Dorchester in New Orleanian terms.  The price of an eight-pack of Mach 3 blades there: $18.99.  A three dollar savings.

Does it really cost less to ship razor blades 1360 miles than it does couple of blocks?

So is Gillette ripping off Bostonians?  I don't know.  Maybe Rite Aid is ripping off Bostonians.  For all I know Massachusetts has some arcane shaving tax in effect.  I'll tell you this though, if you plan a few days ahead, you'll still get them cheaper at Amazon.  They'll only cost you $17.97 and will probably qualify for free shipping.  That's the price for Mach 3 Turbo, if you don't mind using the word 'turbo' in connection with shaving.

Charity Hospital

Charity Hospital was the New Orleans equivalent of Boston Medical Center.   It was closed after Hurricane Katrina and it isn't scheduled to be reopened.  Imagine if BMC were erased from Boston's health care network.


I took the Canal Street street car to the cemeteries this morning.  The Canal Street line splits at Carrolton Avenue, half the cars go to City Park and the art museum, the other half go to the above ground necropolises at the far side of town.  I stopped into the Charity Hospital Cemetery which was founded in 1848 as a potter's field.  There aren't any marked graves in this cemetery.

There is, however, a memorial that is the final resting place for the unidentified and unclaimed remains of those who perished during Katrina.  There are six mausoleums, unmarked with black granite facades arranged in a pattern that mirrors the shape of the storm.

The commemorative narrative inscribed on a block of granite concludes, "Let their souls join in an eternal chorus, singing with the full might of the indomitable spirit of New Orleans."

Life goes on in New Orleans.  Though many neighborhoods still bear scars from the brunt of the flood, life goes on as normal.  New Orleans is both a queen among American cities and a dowager.  She has seen better days and worse ones too.  Better days are ahead of today that will outweigh the worse ones that will inevitably accompany them.

The French Quarter is the vibrant heart of this regal city and that is what the tourists pay to see.  New Orleans is a skein of many threads though.  It is a body with many arteries and resilient plexuses.  The people who live here haven't given up hope or human kindness.  They haven't given up on charity.

The City Care Forgot

While the moniker "The City that Care Forgot" doesn't really apply to the Big Easy post-Katrina, the atmosphere is very different in New Orleans than it is in Boston, and I don't mean the humidity.  I'm in my third day here and I am naturally living a tourist's life rather than a citizen's but the congeniality is impressive.

I won't say that I find Boston oppressive, weather aside.  I mean that there is an easygoingness in New Orleans that Boston lacks.  I've been here before so I'm not entirely blinkered by the hospitality and I know it's not all pralines on the levee.  The decay on display is not just genteel, some of it is depressingly real.  Despite that, there is joy in the ruins and plenty to savor.

I'm staying in the French Quarter because I got a good hotel deal.  Last night, I walked Bourbon Street taking in the music, popping into one club after another.  No cover charge, the music spills into the streets.  There were some awful cover bands but there was some inspired, traditional jazz.  People were  gathered outside Preservation Hall for a reason.  The trumpeter melded so many triumphal marches into his solo of "When the Saints Go Marchin' In" including the Star Wars theme that people swooned long after the clarinetist took over.

I checked my watch, my internal Boston-based clock was ticking.  The MBTA shuts down at 12:30 and sure enough the clock on my wrist read midnight.  I am used to leaving according to the MBTA schedule; it's ingrained.  No worries though, on Bourbon Street, midnight is the midpoint toward when the night ends.

If I were taking public transportation, I needn't have worried much.  I was on the Canal Street line and a woman asked when the last street car would run.  "2:30 in the morning, ma'am," the driver answered.  Checking the RTA schedule, the first outbound car of the day runs at 4:22 AM.  If I were headed homeways on the St. Charles Line, the last train from downtown would be at 3:07AM with service resuming slightly an hour later.

That's a city that relishes its good times more than its beauty sleep.  

Oh, and the highlight of last night's musical adventure: listening to a nine-piece band blast out a funkadelic version of "Car Wash."  Those horns wailed.

Streetcar Sue

The St. Charles Avenue streetcar line runs from downtown to Carrolton.  The cars were built in 1926, two decades before the Mattapan High Speed cars but basically of the same design.  If you don't have a need to travel to Mattapan via the MBTA, the museum pieces on display at Boylston will give you an idea.  The cars on Boston's Green Line are updated versions.

Should you take the St. Charles to the end, you'll see they don't turn around.  Rather, the driver gets out of the car and lowers the device in back that connects the car to the overhead wires.  Then, the driver goes to the front of the car, now to be the back, and released an identical device overhead.  The front becomes the back.  There are controls at either end of the car to accommodate this change from back to front and vice versa.  In fact, the rear of the car, with its controls and driver's seat is often occupied by passengers during crowded runs.

I had the pleasure of riding the St. Charles line twice today run by the operator with the badge number 626.  This is a woman who enjoys her job.  She welcomes passengers and gives them advice and history about the neighborhoods through which her car passes.  "All aboard who's coming aboard!" she says at stops.  "Get ready for takeoff!" she warns when she's about to resume movement (the street cars rarely exceed 5mph).

She is used to tourists.  Natives take the streetcar, but the St. Charles Line goes through some of the most beautiful neighborhoods in New Orleans, across the top of the Garden District, past Loyola and Tulane universities, and Audobon Park, as well as into Carrolton.  "Go spend a lot of money and leave a big tip.  If you do, tell 'em Streetcar Sue sent you!" Operator 626 admonishes.  "If you don't, don't tell 'em I sent you," she adds with a laugh.

Some MBTA drivers have a personality. I've encountered a few on the E Line.  Once in a blue moon a Red Line driver will wish passengers a nice day.  Mostly though, MBTA employees on the trains seem to be a sullen lot.  Not all the drivers on the St. Charles Line are mass transit ambassadors either, but they have more direct interaction with the public.  There aren't many passes in use.  The fare is $1.25 and the drivers are forever finessing dog-eared dollar bills into the fare machines.  I have yet to meet a truly disgruntled RTA employee.  They can be harried, but they remain human.

A tip of the fedora to Streetcar Sue, an inspiration to mass transit workers everywhere who see their jobs as professions rather than chores.  A ride on the St. Charles Streetcar is a joy and it more so when Operator 626 is at the helm.

1000 miles away

So I'm sitting in Bruno's Tavern, 7538 Maple Street in New Orleans' Carrolton neighborhood.  "An Uptown drinking place since 1934."  The sky is partly cloudy.  The Times-Picayune says the high temperature today is 65 but it feels like its in the 70s when the sun shines down, especially after the abrupt transition from Boston this morning to New Orleans this afternoon.

Carrolton is a beautiful neighborhood on the end of the St. Charles streetcar line.  No building is taller than two stories.  Unlike Dorchester, the homes are not repetitions of the same style repeated ad infinitum.  Each small lot has its own personality.  There aren't any leaves on many of the trees yet, the broad, ancient oaks that shade the streets.  There are leaves on the palm trees and banana trees.

The sidewalks are rough in patches.  Some of the homes are in picturesque disrepair.  It is beautiful and alive here, with people moving at a pace very dissimilar to what I'm accustomed to in Boston.  Everyone says hello.  Everyone.

The St. Charles Avenue streetcars most resemble Mattapan High Speed trolleys but people open the windows and catch the breeze.  After I unpacked I bought a five day pass for $20 and walked down St. Charles Ave to Lafayette Square.  After so many days of Boston March rain and so many weeks of Boston winter chill, I couldn't resist a half mile stroll in nothing more than a sports coat over a tee shirt.  The first street car was full and I was standing with a gaggle of people dressed for St. Patrick's day also wanting to jump on.  No problem: three more cars were visible behind.  Everyone eventually got on within five minutes wait.

There is something different about New Orleans time.  There is never a need to rush.  Good things happen no matter where you are.  The party starts when you arrive.  Something pleasant is always unfolding, little or large, on the streets, in the parks, in the bars, in the clubs, on the streetcar.

From a thousand miles away, in a very different city, I tip my fedora and bid my fellow Dorchesterites Hello.  I hope you are enjoying your day as much as I am enjoying mine.
 

Dorchester's best pizzeria

Now that Theo's Pizza is closed it's a tough call what Dorchester's best pizzeria may be.  Heaven knows there are plenty of them.  It's hard to say many of them have any defining characteristics beyond address though.

If you've travelled New England any length of distance and stopped for a pizza, you know the standard New England pie.  The crust is neither thick nor thin but somewhere in the middle, just enough to absorb all the oil that leaks out of the shredded, wholesale, industrial mozzarella.  The sauce is ladled out of a gallon can.  The seasoning is oregano.  I haven't been to every pizzeria in Dorchester, I haven't the time, but from what I've sampled Dorchester pizza chefs don't stray to far from the New England paradigm.  They shouldn't really.  I'm a Nutmeg Yankee and I'll order a Dot slice over a New York or Chicago style pie any day.

As with many things, if you are moving to Dorchester, don't get your hopes up too high for high-faluting pizza.  As with everything, you will find that what is in Dot will hit the spot.  If you take the Red Line to Field's Corner, I'll meet you at Hi-Fi.

The mill's not grindin'

The mills in Dorchester aren't grinding.  They've been turned into apartments and some studio-residences reserved for artists.  The collapse of the local manufacturing economy wasn't a shipwreck for Dorchester, though it certainly hasn't always been smooth sailing.

There are still a number of small machine shops in business but no small factories that I can see.  The chocolate industry dominated Lower Mills for two centuries.  People may be making whoopie in Lower Mills but there aren't any confectioners.  All that's left are the beautiful Victorian factory buildings, which are a picturesque legacy.

Jobs around the corner from one's home would be nice but in the new economy, Carney Hospital provides the local jobs that are in demand at this point in the 21st century.  Medical Billers be warned:  If you want to live in Lower Mills because you think billing and coding jobs are available via Carney, they aren't.  All the billing is centralized with another hospital in the Caritas Christi system.  Carney operations get coded at St. Elizabeth's, far away and off the MBTA rail grid.    

This may be a good reason for medical administration folk to live in Brighton.  I haven't been to that part of Boston too often but it seems to be a good enough reason.  Of course, the location of jobs doesn't guarantee that practitioners will live within walking distance.  I don't think many doctors or surgeons live in Lower Mills.  I do think a reasonable number of barbers call Lower Mills home.

Dorchester tea

On a rainy day like today, you may notice the puddles have a certain multi-colored sheen to them.  It's not because there's been an oil spill in Dorchester.  It's not the result of some industrial accident.  It's just Dorchester's natural hope and exuberance leeching out of the ground.

Even when the weather is drear, Dorchester is home to rainbows.  Where do you think they come from when the sun comes out?  Yep, they sprout out of the Dorchester ground.  God stores his rainbows in Dorchester.

You might think this link is a bit incongruous but it's not.  The last song on this album is called "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows."  Alice would fit right in Dot.  It's a lovely song.

Dot block rebellion

Like many things, it's not entirely clear to me what's going on at Four Corners this Saturday (March 13) at 5PM.  Though the Four Corners Action Coalition has organized something they call a rebellion, it seems to be a more usual protest, albeit one that includes a walking tour and a multimedia performance art piece.

And that is what makes Dorchester one of Boston's more surprising places.  Better known for criminal transgressions, Dorchester is a place of remarkable creativity.  The neighborhood has been remaking itself continually since it agreed to be annexed into the greater metropolis. No one will be taking a duck tour to Four Corners anytime soon and not just because it's not near the water.  That doesn't mean it's not a vibrant community in which people tangle the weft of their lives into the woof of the surrounding infrastructure.

21 Bullard Street is located on the slopes of picturesque Mount Bowdoin.  While the neighborhood may have seen more spendthrift days, the community is alive and well and rallying.  If you are interested, and you should be, the tour starts at this address at 5:00 and ends at the same place.  Food, music, video and insight will follow.

Thanks to Boston Indymedia for the tip off.

Dot manners

Dorchester gentlemen are known all over Boston for their savoir faire.  Sometimes though, some mealy mouthed schlub from another neighborhood shows up and does his best to spoil Dot's well earned reputation.  Good women know Dorchester men are the pillars upon which Boston is held high.  They make attractive mates not just for their good looks but for their virtuous dispositions.

So I was at the Harp and Bard this evening when some pie-eyed rake who had a few too many Bud Lights under his belt leered at one of his fellow patrons and commented, as a kind of introduction, "You have nice breasts."  His Hyde Park accent was unmistakable.  If you closed your eyes, you would picture a young man who may grow up to be mayor of this city once he learns his manners.

The TVs didn't suddenly switch to static, but the conversation around the bar did come to a standstill.   In the sudden hush, one of the old timers at the corner by the lottery ticket machine spoke up.  "Stop right there, chum," he commanded.  "There are ladies present, as you obviously know.  We expect you to behave accordingly."  The rake glared and the other older gents at the corner stood up and shifted on the balls of their feet.  "Apologize," the old timer commanded, "Apologize and make your way home.  We don't cotton to tomfoolery or tom catting around Savin Hill."

The malefactor mumbled his apology and stumbled out onto Dot Ave, presumably to hail a cab.  A delegation from the corner made their way to the young woman's bar stool.  Tom doffed his cap and said, "On behalf of all of us, ma'am and the reputation of good men in Dorchester and Hyde Park, heck the reputation of all the good men in Boston, I offer my most sincere apologies and I promise such a rude compliment will never again be heard here in this room. It is plain to all who can see that your beauty comes from your eyes."

Thoroughly embarrassed by all the attention, the young woman thanked the dignitaries and asked them to return to their seats.

A tip of the fedora to Percy Trout for today's illustration.

Outside Dot is different

When you live in Dorchester long enough, you forget there are other parts of Boston.  It's a rude awakening when you venture out past Dorchester's borders into the rest of Beantown and you realize that life may not be as rosy as you experience it on your usual route.

Would you believe that someone bumped into me on Washington Street and didn't excuse themselves?  You wouldn't believe it if this happened in Codman Square, but it happened to me today in the South End. I didn't know what to do so I apologized even though I had already gone out of my way to avoid an elbow in my ribs.

Do you know people talk on their cell phones while they are driving automobiles and they don't pay attention to pedestrians?  Of course this doesn't happen in Dorchester, so you are excused if you are flabbergasted by this revelation.  I witnessed this on Commonwealth Avenue and do you know what else? There are some streets in Boston where pedestrians don't take advantage of the painted crosswalks!     Traveling outside our Dot comfort zone is like entering a parallel reality.

Before Dorchesterites read this next paragraph, they should fetch their smelling salts.

There are parts of Boston where you will not receive exact change back.  I bought two coffees this morning in preparation for a bracing walk along the Esplanade.  While I was waiting for a latte to be crafted, the clerk at the register handed me my change sans the pennies that made the difference between  $3.64 cents and $3.60.  I suspect that four Lincolns don't go very far at the foot of Beacon Hill, but in my part of Boston, Dorchester, four cents is quintuple what most people's opinions are worth (you do the math) and they'll also buy an individually wrapped Life Saver off a convenience store counter. For an extra penny more you can get a jawbreaker or a Dum-Dum lollipop.

Money and manners may be hoarded commodities around downtown Boston.  In Dorchester, these are valued for what they are worth.  It is easy to find life savers, jawbreakers and dum-dums for free in Dorchester though they aren't the edible kind.  Candy is dandy and you have to pay a pittance for that.  As for good manners, Dorchester is awash with them, like raindrops and litter.   Inside Dot, the motto is, "Good manners set one free."

Amen.

Long stations for short trolleys

I wonder why the Green Line stations along Huntington Avenue are so long?  Was there really a time when three- and four-car trolleys plied between Lechmere and Forest Hills?  The underground stations have as much length so this systemic design must be for a reason.

The Red and Orange Line platforms are a perfect fit for their trains.  I haven't been on the Blue for awhile, but I assume they are likewise.  If I recall, Aquarium is very long, but they just bought some new Blue Line trains so the new models may fit now.

A two-car train is slow going down Huntington and South Huntington Streets as it is.  I can only imagine the effects on traffic of a four-car model going through Jamaica Plain.  Not that it wouldn't be good.  I'd visit JP more often.

Thanks to Dr. Hermes for today's illustration.

There's a new cab in town

Hacks looking for a new garage take note.  Dorchester Independent Taxi Cab of Boston is a start up that should soon be looking for drivers as well as fares.  The company has just got its web site up and running.  They may be looking for some copy writers too.  The site looks professional enough: dorchestertaxi.com and a picture of a cab on a black background.  No information yet except for the phone number: 617 ('natch) 825-1111.  It mustn't be too much of a shoestring operation if they sprung for a final four digits any drunk can remember.

I don't take cabs in Boston on principle.  It irks me to no end that public transportation shuts down before the bars.  If a venue isn't convenient by foot or bicycle back to my home, I leave before midnight.  It's little wonder that winter gives me cabin fever, but a man has to be true to what he believes in.

With my interest in all things Dot, I want to point out we have a local company in our midst we may want to support over all other rivals.  As someone who doesn't begrudge cabbies' wee hour of the morning monopoly, I wouldn't mind getting a hack license myself if I didn't have to work during the day.  My beef is with the MBTA, not the people who fill the void the T leaves after hours.

I haven't called 617-825-1111 to find out for myself what going on at Dorchester Cab.  I leave that up to you.  If you need a cab, give them a call.  Let me know what you find out.

Vegetarian Chinese food

My copy of the Sizzling Empire Lucky Jade Wok Garden menu fell between the sofa cushions and I had forgotten about it.  Luckily I needed some cash before payday and I found the menu again while I was fishing for spare change.  I continue to be amazed.

Chef’s Selection Number 5.  GIFT OF NANLING WIND.  Snow pea, fava bean, onion, leek, cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower and sliced wood ear mushrooms cooked tender quickly to preserve natural vitality.  Served with flavorful brown yeast and garlic sauce on whole wheat rice.  A memorable meal.  $10.50.

With all the meat they serve in the other dishes so far, it’s nice to see a vegetarian option.  

Click the 'chinese menu' label below to read the rest of the menu I've reviewed thus far.