Sunday was 68 degrees my dear friends. Sundresses were donned, paths were trod, espresso was sipped in a JP cafe.
Where better to spend the day than in the Arnold Arboretum? Winding paths, hills, streams alongside paths covered in rhododendron-budded branches… This is where I chose to spend my Sunday.
The arboretum is well worth a visit, if a bit hard to get to. It is at the very tail end of the Orange Line but I suggest you do as I did and get off at Heath Street on the Green Line, then walk a leisurely hour through the heart of JP, stop for coffee along the way, and arrive in plenty of time to wander over the whole expanse without having to touch the Orange Line. After a gorgeous day there, dinner called me and my companion back to Coolidge Corner. I’ve now done brunch, lunch, and dinner at the Regal Beagle and each was a slightly different experience- yet all were incredibly delicious. Yesterday, however, was truly something. We basically ordered everything that was steeped in butter. We began with gnocchi with prosciutto and scallions.
We had coctails- The Aviation for him and sangria for me.
He had a lamb ragout that was absurd in its deliciousness.
I had mac and cheese because I am wholly unoriginal and totally predictable (but there was truffle oil!).
We were way too full for dessert (first time for everything) but some after dinner cocktails sealed up the evening.
And then I bought six books. What can I say? A few cocktails and I have no moderation… drunk bookshopping is not for the faint of heart.
Alright. If you live in the Brighton/Brookline area you probably know and have raved about the Regal Beagle for many a moon now. But I JUST experienced its wonderful tastiness for the first time and I have to rave a little bit about it. Bear with me.
That right there is their brunch menu and my friend Anna and I agonized a bit over what to choose. After telling the waiter we wanted everything he joked that he might need to bring us a bigger table. Lack of space on table and in stomach is all that stopped me from sampling everything on this menu. Instead I went for the pancakes, which were sublime in a way this terrible (for some odd reason) picture cannot quite capture.My hand must have been shaking with desire or something. There are cinnamony apples and sweetly encrusted pecans sliding around in whipped cream and real maple syrup. The pancakes were fluffy and perfect in every way.
Anna went for the pancetta and sweet potato hash after a rave review from the waiter turned her in that direction. She seemed intensely happy with her decision.
I had to have my earl grey, of course. And obligatorily had to photograph its steaming loveliness.
It was the best brunch I’ve had in Boston and was really quite reasonably priced. We waited for only about ten minutes for a table and the decor is cosy and dramatic. I give it my highest recommendation. As for the rest of my Sunday, well I decided despite the snow that tipped us over into record-breaking territory that I would bring in a bit of spring. Stella seemed to agree that it was time.