Hot dogs or turducken?

Open 24 hours a day

There is no more beautiful sight than Bud's Broiler, especially in the wee, small hours of the morning.  Located up by City Park, about a half hour from my humble abode by bicycle, this is the place that robbed me of my chance to meet President Obama.  I didn't really mind.  While I'm not a hamburger fan, Bud's serves a hot dog unlike any other in the Crescent City.  Cut in quarters with barbeque sauce on a hamburger bun, it a treat.

Not having any family in New Orleans we are looking for a place to have Thanksgiving dinner.  I figure Bud's is a good choice if they are open Thanksgiving Day.  I'll have to make a trip after work; their website doesn't say.

Not that I think a hot dog meal will go down well with the lady of the house.  She's got something else in mind....

Boston pizza vs. New Orleans pizza

Still on the same block of Magazine Street.  With a few interuptions, I started this photo series weeks ago.

While I lived in Boston I worked in the Longwood Medical Area.  I was reminded of it while looking at the picture here.  In just a few blocks of each other are Brigham and Women's Hospital, Dana Farber Cancer Center, Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, Children's Hospital, Harvard Medical School, Harvard Dental School, and the Massachusetts College of Pharmacy and Health Sciences.  New England Baptist Hospital is a few blocks away at the very top of the hill.  I'm probably leaving something out.

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I enjoyed walking across the lawn of Harvard Medical School on Louis Pasteur Avenue to get to work.  Beautiful building.  No point in linking to where I said it before since I just said it again.

Boston is a bigger city, of course, but I am struck by the concentration of biomedical technology and research and healthcare delivery in the city.  New Orleans is trying to build the infrastructure to be a hub of this, but I suspect this will just attract a sliver of the pie in this direction.  There may be state aid but there won't be the economy of scale.  Of course, if the state and city didn't encourage biotech they would be accused of missing the bandwagon on this trend.

Also in the Longwood Medical Area are seven pizzerias.  New Orleans isn't a pizza town.  You can buy a pie but I don't any shops selling pie by the slice.  Nobody walks around nibbling one.  Where I come from we call it pizza pie.  I haven't eaten much pizza in New Orleans but I haven't had a bad pie yet.  I've only been to two pizzerias and both were better than your average New England pie.

I'm not going to drone on about pizza today.  If you want to learn more, you can click the "pizza" tag below.  You'll find out all about Boston pizza from whatever comes up.

My favorite so far in New Orleans?  Rocky's.  It reminds of me of when I was a kid in Connecticut.  It is not as good as the best pie in Boston which a trip to our archives will reveal.

Anchovy pizza

We had a Greek pizza from Slice the other day.  Not bad: artichoke hearts, olives, feta, onion.  Anchovies optional.  You know who opted for the anchovies.  The pizza chef's had a judicious hand.  The fish were't too few and they weren't so many as to overpower the rest of the pie.

I would be just as happy with a regular pie, double anchovy, but that's not what you get when you share.

 

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.

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.

That Dorchester aroma

When someone says something smells like Dorchester, they don't mean it smells like urine in a back alley.  They don't mean it smells like surreptitious marijuana being smoked behind a cupped hand at the Mattapan T stop either.  They don't mean it smells like overripe garbage dumped in an abandoned lot on a street few people travel.  They don't mean it smells like gunpowder.  They don't mean it smells like a paper mill and neither do they mean to say it smells like a chocolate factory.  Fish guts, rat droppings, deep fat fryer drippings, mold, industrial exhaust, dirty diapers, rotten fruit, sweat...you can smell these things in Dorchester, but other aromas linger in the air as well.

I was in a bakery in Concord this morning.  An older couple walked in as I was buying a buttered roll.  The lady said to the gentleman, "It smells just like Dorchester here."  They were from Adams Village.

I was in Flushing, Queens a month ago, in a Vietnamese neighborhood, reading the menu of a local pho restaurant.  An elderly Asian couple passed me and pushed open the door.  When the air from inside hit their faces they exchanged comments I didn't understand except for the word "Dorchester."  I impulsively said to them, "It smells like Dorchester?"  The man gave me a big grin and a thumbs-up followed by a Victory sign followed by a vigorously pumping thumbs-up again.  "Dorchester, Mass. A-Okay! Best pho number one!" he said in reply as he walked into the dining room.

We were in Topsfield, Mass., just passing through, but we needed a restroom so we stopped at a pizzeria for a soda and the chance to rest and relieve ourselves.  While sitting in a booth, we overheard some fellow, teenaged travellers.  The girls were all giggling, saying it smelled funny in Topsfield.  The boys played along, "It smells like s**t," they guffawed.  The girls agreed but they also said parts of Topsfield smelled like nothing at all.  "It's either nothing or s**t," one girl said.  One of the boys chimed in, "This doesn't smell like Dorchester."

In Wewoka, OK, of all places, I was in front of the public library a few years ago, before I even knew Dorchester was part of Boston.  I was still living in Connecticut at the time.  I was taking photographs when a passer-by stopped me.  He asked me to take his picture while posed like he was sleeping on a park bench.   I agreed but I asked why.  "Because," he said, "This pure air in front of this fine library reminds me of Dorchester, Mass.  I don't know why because no Dot library looks like this, but the whole communal knowledge of Wewoka is stored in this building the way the best knowledge in Boston is tucked away in Dot.  Plus, the wind off the plains smells so pretty it reminds me of home."  I took his picture and a few years later I moved to Dorchester.

It smells good here.

Cavolo/Tavolo

In 1918, Guiseppe Malatesta opened a trattoria in Peabody Square.  He called it Cavolo, the Italian word for cabbage.  It seemed like a good idea at the time with all the Irish immigrants moving into the neighborhood.  There was also a sizable German population, but Mr. Malatesta could never say the German word for cabbage convincingly: kohl.

Selling meals of slaw and sauerkraut out of his storefront paid the rent but just barely.  Creditors from the Shawmut Bank that had advanced capital to Mr. Malatesta weren't happy with the cash flow and they feared they would have to foreclose on his chopping blocks and crockery.  What would they do with them?

Mr. Malatesta sprung a plan to spice up the menu a bit.  Dorchester's main trolley stable was located a little up Dot Ave, where the Field's Corner Shopping Center is now.  He contracted with the City of Boston, which had recently annexed Dorchester, to take care of streetcar steeds that had gone lame.  Thus, the menu of his restaurant added a bit of protein to its mix.  Cavolo was married to cavallo,  Cabbage plus horse is very chic if you say it French and, at the time, it was unintelligible in Italian in Dorchester.  The same can be said of the listed ingredients in Vietnamese sandwiches in 2009.   It sounds good, it tastes good, I'll come back tomorrow for another.  Both the flavor and the price are right.

Sometimes it takes a little extra to make a go of a restaurant.  Simple isn't always best.  People don't mind paying a little more if they feel they are getting their money's worth.  As old, Mr. Malatesta would have said, "Una tavola con una tovaglia fare il piatto bellisimo."  A table with a cloth does make the most beautiful dish.  Sometimes you just have to give it a little window dressing and not a-speeka-da-eengleesh.  It's true, if unpretty: Never give a sucker an even break.  We all have to eat, and no matter how it's gussied up, Dorchester delivers the vittles most people demand.

A tip of the fedora to the Dorchester Reporter for pointing out an example of history repeating itself.  A tip of the fork to the eatery at 1918 Dorchester Avenue in old Peabody Square that is working to serve its clientele well.  Rather than giving the people who pass through Ashmont Station what they supposedly need, Tavolo is giving them what they want.  Something nice to eat homeward bound at fair value for the dollars they earn at the other end of the Red Line.

Just what Mission Hill needs

No one will ever accuse Mission Hill of suffering a shortage of pizzerias but there's apparently an unfulfilled craving up by the big church and the hospitals because a new pizzeria is moving in.  There are seven pizzerias in Mission Hill.  I know.  I've eaten a slice from them all.

There is AK's by Roxbury Crossing.  There's Chacho's Pizza on the opposite side of Tremont Street on the way toward Brigham Circle.  There's Tremont Pizza, the self proclaimed Best in Boston.  There is Huntington Street Pizza just round the bend on the way to the VA.  There is Kwik-E Pizza that has been around since the 1950s and has an original, framed menu to prove it.  There is Penguin Pizza in Brigham Circle itself and there is Il Mondo Pizza on the corner of Huntington, Smith Street, and Wigglesworth.

A new batch of pizza chefs will be spinning the dough and ladling the sauce soon.  Though the storefront and interior are being renovated under cover of plywood blinds, a new sign is up announcing a new pizzeria across the street from Mission Park, halfway between Chacho's Pizza and Tremont Pizza.  Some people will now have a shorter walk to get their fix.

A temporary sign is over the obscured front door.  "Opening Soon: Cripsy Dough Pizzeria."  Their web site is still under construction but their logo doesn't promise authentic Neapolitan pie.  One of the counter guys from Tremont Pizza was getting some fresh air after the lunch rush today.  I asked him if he was worried about Crispy Dough siphoning off business.  He said, "Who?"

A drink with something in it

I'm no connoisseur. I'll drink whatever's put in front of me, in moderation of course. Today we feature a little Ogden Nash. The poem is titled the same as this article.

There is something about a Martini,
A tingle remarkably pleasant;
A yellow, a mellow Martini;
I wish I had one at present.

There is something about a Martini,
Ere the dining and dancing begin,
And to tell you the truth,
It is not the vermouth--
I think that perhaps it's the gin.

I'm not a Martini man but I was a big gin drinker at one time: gin and tonic, but the quinine would make me sleepy (perhaps it was the gin?). As I've gotten older hard liquor agrees with me less but I have taken to ordering Manhattans when I go out which is really a Martini made with whiskey. It's a sipping drink that keeps me occupied over the course of a meal. I had the worst Manhattan yet at Tavolo in Peabody Square.

No offense to the staff, who were all gracious and professional, and no offense to the young lady who made this particular Manhattan. It was just bad. It was an off night for the place anyway. The reason I wanted to go was because I wanted the white anchovy appetizer and a goat cheese pizza. I know: anchovies. An acquired taste, but the white ones are very good and not as deep, fermented, distilled low tide-tasting as the kind out of a tin (which I also relish. I know.). I'm sure they come out of a jar instead of a can, mild and mouth-filling without being overpowering. Well, a chap came by after I placed my order and informed me: no white anchovies tonight. At least they're popular enough to sell out. I said I didn't want a substitution, just a pizza would be fine. Then I got my Manhattan.

I've been ordering Manhattans for a few months and they've come in a Martini glass sans ice, crystal clear and as burnished as the eyes of a passing pretty girl on Tremont Street. Not this one. It was in some other kind of squat glass, mixed with ice and foamy. It didn't taste like any other Manhattan I've had in Boston. Maybe it was the whisky. As I say I'm no connoisseur and I didn't request a particular brand. I doubt is was the vermouth. Whatever well this came from tasted tainted. I didn't finish it even though I sat in the establishment over an hour. This was a real sipping drink, which in the end was what I wanted. I've enjoyed cough syrup with more gusto.

The pizza was okay. The kalamata olives on it tasted more like prunes that had been soaking a few hours too long, draining them of any flavor. Sauce squirted onto the bar when I folded a slice in half and took a bite. It was on off night for Tavolo, a restaurant this neighborhood needs that has gotten mixed reviews. I'll be back. I like taking the Red Line to this Dot outpost where gentrification hasn't yet taken hold but is in the air as thick as the fog off Dorchester Bay. The murals in the dining room, where I didn't sit that night will keep you entertained. Out of five stars, I'll give this visit two and a half. Other visits rated fairly close to a full fiver, and that's not including the discount I took on toothpicks then. The drinks have been better in the past too.

A new pizzeria is born

If you live in Boston you are used to pizzeria flyers tucked into your front door. They all seem to use the same format from the same printer with the same layout, the same fonts and the same clip art. I found one of these today in my front door but the front fold was a little different. It wasn't enough to separate it from the pack that arrives over the course of a month, but I tend to read these from front to back closely because I have little else to do. My mail arrives in the afternoon and I've already spent an hour in the morning reading the Wall Street Journal and ten minutes in the morning reading the Boston Globe, so by day's end I'm ready to use my reading skills again and the mail is about all I have.

The logo on this flyer was a bit different. It wasn't set in white space floating above a picture of a choice pizza pie. It was cemented over a photo of a hamburger bun, some wraps full of indistinguishable filling, two disks that looked like pizzas, and assorted whole vegetables. The shop's address is at 856 Dorchester Avenue.

The shop's name is Avenue Grille & Pizza. I looked over the literature and I wondered, "Do I know this place? It's close by judging from the address." Click...click...click...the pieces fell into place: Avenue Grille... Great Ceasar's ghost!...and Pizzeria?

The Avenue Grille was a sit-down restaurant where locals gathered, that offered sandwiches as well as some dishes that required more preparation served on white china plates with a glass of wine or a cocktail. The Avenue Grille didn't have the best food but it did have a restaurant feel when you sat in its dark wood dining room. I knew it was under new management, but not that they were turning a bistro into a pizza joint. Maybe Dorchester does need more pizza joints. Maybe the hunger for pizza cannot be satisfied with pizzerias every half mile or so. 856 Dot Ave is almost equidistant between Pantry Pizza and Andrew Pizza. Maybe some people don't like to walk.

We hadn't been to the old Avenue Grille for a while. It is on the opposite side of Columbia Road from where we live. It's not a wide road, but it is a boundary where, those of us to the south like to think. separates the men from the boys. Maybe we should have crossed that boundary more often. Maybe we will now that there's a new pizzeria open for business. I'll have to give it a try.

A quiet conspiracy?

Having given up home delivery or even newsstand pick-up of the Boston Globe as my source for printed news, I rely on the Wall Street Journal to keep me informed of what is going on both in national and international affairs, admittedly with a business and politically conservative slant. The WSJ is still more informative on all fronts. I know, for instance, that H.J. Heinz's profit is up during these tough times as few other companies' are. Heinz, which produces a number of products, is known for it ketchup, or catsup as we like to spell it here at antiquarian-minded Whalehead Amalgamated Enterprises, PLC, GmbH, LLC, Esq.


We noticed at the Pizza Pantry on Dot Ave,near the JFK/UMASS station, that the management doesn't offer Heinz catsup packages as a condiment. We've noticed this at other local, prepared food outlets as well. The brand of choice seems to be Red Gold Premium Tomato Ketchup (their spelling, not ours). In fact, in my limited, circumstantial, and highly subjective recollection of catsup packets I've seen offered in Dorchester, East Boston, and Roxbury, I'd be willing to bet that Red Gold is more available than Heinz at a 3:1 ratio.


We all know that our own United States Senator, the Hon. John Kerry, is married to the heir to the Heinz catsup fortune. He ran for president, if you will recall, and was defeated in both the popular vote and the electoral college. He won Massachusetts, but still waters run deep. Has the purchasing power of Boston's entrepreneurial, fast food outlets conspired to rob this legislator of his personal income? According to the WSJ, they haven't succeeded this quarter, but one would imagine that buying Heinz products would insulate this particular peoples' representative from being tempted by corrupt money looking for favorable legislation. Right now, H.J. Heinz is rolling in profits but some Boston restaurateurs seem to want to starve the hand that is raised to pass legislation.

Red Gold, Inc., based in Elmwood, Ind., makes a good catsup. It's available in a number of grades, from 100% natural, made with real sugar, 33% fancy catsup, whatever that means, and an industrial grade that goes by the name of "Extra Standard 29%." I asked the woman behind the counter at Pantry Pizza if anyone has complained about the quality of the catsup they offer. She said, "No. We only serve the best here at Pantry Pizza." I asked why they don't serve Heinz. She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen and said, "I'm not allowed to comment on managerial decisions."

Reuben pizza

Pantry Pizza has been open a few months now. They've settled in, won a clientele, and gotten the kinks out of their routine. They are at 931 Dot Ave. It's a busy place and an appreciated addition to the neighborhood. As with many other things, I am a traditionalist when it comes to pizza. I like red sauce, mozzarella, and one topping, two at most. The pizza chefs at Pantry have other ideas.

They make a good, thin crust pie and the options are exhaustive with mostly top shelf ingredients. I have yet to eat just an medium onion pizza or even my favorite, anchovy, at Pantry. I always get cajoled into splitting one of the large specials. Here is where the chefs' creativity comes into play. An extensive menu is posted on the right hand wall that lists a number of combinations. They all sound tempting in theory, but my hackles get raised when I read the ingredients until I am eventually outvoted.

Be warned. I do not like to eat chicken to begin with and I think chicken on a pizza is unnatural. I also think that, in most cases, a pizza should be red, not white. The pie called "Stuck in New York," though it doesn't contain chicken, is an experiment that maybe needs to be perfected. This is a white pie featuring the shop's proprietary "three cheese blend" in lieu of plain mozzarella. It contains pastrami, caramelized onions, Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing. Where I come from, if the mayonnaise and ketchup don't have relish mixed in, it is French dressing, but I don't think either belongs on a pizza.

The "Stuck in New York" was not a group favorite. After the first slice I opined that maybe it would have been better to go with genuine sauerkraut rather than the caramelized onion. There were too many cross currents at play. We had the leftovers for dinner and I added slices of tomato prior to reheating it. It was better, but still nothing anyone voted to order again.

This is no sleight to Pantry Pizza. They are obviously proud of their work. The chef comes out and lifts the lid of the box for customer inspection at point of purchase and discusses the nuances of what he is attempting. This much craft and experimentation cannot be a waste and will enventually produce an Olympian pie. The lady who takes the orders is a gem. I suspect if I ordered something pedestrian, I would be happier than happy spelled out in capital letters. They deliver, so if you want to taste the cutting edge of pizza research, please call 617-282-0033. You may be more adventurous than I am.

If you are more adventurous than I am, please order the "Stuck in Idaho" which consists of a pizza topped with baked sweet potatoes, grilled chicken, caramelized onions and the ubiquitous three-cheese blend. I'm curious to know what you think of it.

Planning ahead

I went to an after hours meet-up at the Gardner Museum tonight. I do venture outside Dorchester, you know. I work outside the neighborhood and I often enjoy the cultural events this great, big city of Boston has to offer. The Dot does hit the spot but it is a part of a larger parcel of which I am also a part. Ah, Boston, let me count the ways I love thee... There is no time for that however.

Before going to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum to meet some chums for cocktails and a tour, I thought I should replenish my internal combustion engine with some fuel. I stopped in for a plain slice of pizza on Tremont Street. It was a good decision. The neon sign outside the Tremont House of Pizza claims this pizza is the best in Boston. I wouldn't go that far, but I got more than my $1.50 worth for a plain slice. Nice guys run this shop and they make a decent pizza pie. My meal stuck to my ribs and to the walls of my arteries to get me through the night. It was a good thing too. The museum was selling a toast plate for $12.00. I had already filled up so I wasn't tempted to place an order.

As usual, after the festivities the Green Line sped me to Park Street where I transferred to the Red. Lickety-split, before I knew it I was back in Dorchester. I laid my head on pillow knowing that I live in Boston's best neighborhood and sweet dreams followed.

Over 2,000,000 pizzas sold

Those aren't golden arches across from St. Mark's Church at 1740 Dot Ave. That's the storefront that pizza has kept open for over 18 years. The whole time McDonald's has served billions and billions of hamburgers over the decades, Charlie's Pizza has served up its share of slices. They boast of 2 million pizzas sold and they have the receipt books to prove it. Charlie's Pizza has been a Dorchester institution for almost two decades and it is still going strong.

It's a cut throat pizza market in Boston as any pizza chef will tell you. Shops open and close with the regularity of traffic lights going from green to red. Pizza fashions change like the hemlines on ladies' skirts and the width of gentlemen's neckties. What was popular last year is out of favor come the following January. Charlie knows, he's seen them come and he's seen them go.

Charlie offers everyday specials: You can get a small cheese pizza with ten wings for $9.99 any time during normal business hours, for example. Charlie offers lunch time specials: There is a $2.00 discount on any large pizza or calzone ordered between 11:00 AM and 3:00 PM weekdays, for instance. Charlie also offers a unique pizza pie you can get nowhere else, its a little concoction called 'The Turkish Farm.' It is one of the shop's more popular pies even though St. Mark's Parish isn't known for being home to large Turkish population.

The menu states quite bluntly and categorically that the Turkish Farm Pizza has "No pizza sauce." Then it goes on to list the ingredients that are used. Prices range between $8.99 to $17.99 depending on the size.

Jungle love

With a blanket of snow over Dorchester, we were surprised to hear the soothing sounds of exotic tiki music wafting out of an open, third story window on Sagamore Street. The ukulele strains were so hypnotic, a gaggle of Dorchesterites had stopped in the middle of the middle of the street with ears cocked upward. Nobody was doing a lot of driving today but the streets were thick with pedestrians heading though the snow flakes for milk, malt liquor, bagged snack food and pizza made to order.

A young man sporting a frizzled beard was one of the people stopped on Sagamore Street listening to the music that issued out of this apartment. He said, "I feel like I'm in Hawaii." He said it spontaneously to no one in particular and he was quickly hit with a snowball by a companion who said, "I couldn't do this in Hawaii, buster." The whole group guffawed and scooped snowballs from around their feet and started pelting the guy who exaggerated the situation too much.

It didn't feel like Hawaii in Dorchester or any other part of Boston today. It felt like New England in winter, the worst time to live here. Despite that, it did feel care-free. There is something about a snow storm that makes everyone congenial. We are all in this together. The inconvenience of not being able to travel as far as you choose forges a bond with other people in the street, in the stores, in the pizza parlors...we just want to get out a bit and see that the world is getting on. It's nice to be alive in a winter wonderland. Boston, Dorchester, Roxbury, Eastie, Charlestown, Chelsea, Southie, the Back Bay, the South End, West Roxbury, they are all pretty places but they become even prettier under a blanket of snow.

One of the women who stopped on Sagamore Street, she was 60 years old if she was a day, said, "This music puts me in mind for the beach." She looked at her squire and said, "Why don't we take the Blue Line to Revere and walk the beach?" He said he would load his ipod with tiki music as soon as they got home and then they would be off like a shot for Kelly's Roast Beef and a stroll along the picturesque shores of exotic Massachusetts Bay.

Dorchester breeds daydreams along its shortest streets.

Pitching Woo

One of the Peppermint Squad's more recent members is Susan Batchelder (not her real name). She is aged 32, 5'4" tall, 175 lbs, and has shoulder length, blonde hair. She generally wears Dickies brand clothing in keeping with her occupation, which is a forklift driver at one of the flower warehouses along Albany Avenue (name withheld by request). If you want to know Ms. Batchelder's real name, she will respond to 'Flora' which is her nom-de-pax since she joined the Peppermint Squad.

Flora is the Squad's self-appointed Emissary of Woo. Her position has been written into the club's constitution since she was recruited into the fold. If you see a stocky woman scooting around town with a satchel stuffed full of variously colored carnations over her shoulder, you will know that Dorchester's Peppermint Squad is involved in community outreach, trying to build a more romantic Boston, one couple at a time.

As Flora explains it: "I've had a lot of dud boyfreinds in my time. A lot. What woman hasn't? Since I work in the flower business I decided to do something about it. I get to the flower market before most of the city is awake. The flowers arrive on trucks from Logan and some come up from New York. We unload the trucks and give all the florists in Boston thier quota and there is always a palette or so left over. These keep til the next day but like milk, who wants flowers about to expire? My boss used to throw them away but now I take the carnations and I go about my mission."

Flora says: "I take my scooter out after 5:00 in the afternoon and I stuff my messenger bag with as many carnations it will hold. Carnations can take a lot of abuse and the streets really jostle the parcel around. Whenever I see a couple hand in hand, I stop and give the swain a carnation and tell him to offer it to his or her date. I suggest a little poetry or I talk to the recipient and ask what he or she would like to hear. In this way, I encourage expressing emotion and building emotional connections through the use of flowers. I'm the FTD boy but I'm a woman and I don't have winged shoes; I just have this no-name Chinese scooter to make my deliveries."

Flora continues: "I'm like cupid. I see love blooming and I try to make it ripe. I see a connection and I try to make the contact spark. I'm not a florist. I don't make arrangements and I don't sell anything. I stop where I seem to be needed to turn the romance up a notch from simmer to, maybe, parboil. I can't work miracles but I can brighten some couple's day and let them know there is more to dating than spending time together. Romance is about gesture and quality, not just face time."

Flora is currently single and that is why she requested her real name not be used.

Smith Street, Mission Hill

Smith Street is a little smidge of a road off Huntington Avenue just before Brigham Circle. It meets in a Vee with Wigglesworth Street, where Il Mondo Pizza is located. Il Mondo serves one of the better slices of pie in Boston.

Organize-It Software recently renamed itself Roxbury Apple Service. They have a spiffy, new, handpainted sign with the name and a handpainted Apple logo. Its not as splashy as the Apple Store on Boylston Street, but it is comfortable and accessible. They have been authorized Apple distributors and technicians for quite some time, so if you feel uncomfortable with glitz and want your Mac serviced, this might be a good option for you.

Smith Street, though very short, has one other address of note. It is an Irish pub called the Squealing Pig. Both the food and the staff there are very good and satisfying. I had a tasty Dutch brew there called Delerium Tremens. It had a pink elephant on the label. I know someone who had thier first taste of cream soda there. Nothing she has tasted since has matched that wonderful elixir.

A new, tall building is going up on the north side of Smith Street so it will be hard to see these establishments when passing by on the E train. They are worth seeking out though. It's a short street, but a nice one.

A Flurry of Fliers

Pizza season is heating up as the Earth swings closer to the sun. Fliers are innundating Dorchester's mailboxes. Yesterday was Windy City Pizza on Gallivan Blvd. Today is Cee Cee's Pizza at 301 Adams Street. What will tomorrow bring?

Cee Cee's will deliver any order that totals more than $8.00 and add a $1.50 delivery charge. There is no caveat on the front of their brochure that they only serve a limited area so this may be worth the price of gas if you live in Allston or East Boston. We assume that if you live in New London, Conn. the delivery charge may be more than advertised.

The term "Monday Madness" means different things to different people, but at Cee Cee's Pizza it means a patron can purchase 20 chicken wings in the flavor of their choice for $8.99 plus tax. What are the flavors? Buffalo, Honey Hot, Barbeque, Honey Barbeque, Spicy Barbeque, Teriyaki, Honey Mustard, Sweet & Sour, and Ranch. One's tastebuds spin at the choices between spicy and sweet. What will yours be next Monday? Call in your order at (617) 436-2500. If that line is busy, and it may be, try (617) 436-2501.

Windy City

Windy City Pizza has the most colorful brochure of all Boston's pizzerias. Chicago is known for a first class pie and the Windy City Pizza logo sports an image of the Sears Tower. The menu boasts that they serve zero trans fat but a look at the photos should make an artery-conscious reader question that claim.

Windy City Pizza is well known for the specials advertised in thier front window that faces Gallivan Boulevard, at #516, just at the entrance to Adams Village on the right if approaching from JFK/UMASS. They deliver to a limited area between 11:00 and 11:00 and a fifty cent gas charge will be added to the bill. With the prices gas is selling for these days, you might save some money on delivery rather than picking up your order yourself. Check them out at windypizza.com.

If you are going to go, order the M8 special. You will save $10.60 and have enough leftovers to last the rest of the week. Not a bad bargain in gourmet fast food.