Moules Frites- Central Kitchen



I love a good moules frites.  And I love eating at Central Kitchen.  Smack dab in the middle of Central Square, I had the occasion to go to CK on Saturday night after a whole year of not eating there.  You know how you always say you are going to do x, y, and z and then a whole year rolls around before you do it?  Well, that’s what happened to me with Central Kitchen.  I had such an amazing time eating there last November- great food, great company, great atmosphere (backdropped by the first Boston snowstorm of the winter ’12-’13!)- that I promised myself I would return soon.  “Soon” turned into a year but it was just as good as ever.



“Here in this place new light is streaming/Now is the darkness vanished away.”

In the past two years that I have been living in New England I have become semi-obsessed with the autumn light (Just ask my friend and colleague Matt. He gets daily updates.).  After the heat of the summer, I love how crisp and clear the light looks in the air and on the leaves of the ancient trees.  This weekend I had the opportunity to go to a fantastic retreat with the Sisters of Life in Stamford, Connecticut.  On the drive back home, I witnessed a truly amazing display of light.  We were driving West to East so the sun was setting behind us as we drove towards Boston.  Ahead of us were grey, cloudy skies only made beautiful by the brightest reds, greens, and yellows of the changing leaves.  Suddenly, we saw a bright orange light illuminating the tops of the trees.  It was the sun creating a perfect spotlight for the leaves on the trees’ tippy tops.  If the pigment of a carrot could become light waves, this would have been them.  It was truly incredible.

This phenomenon coupled with the reflections and stories from the retreat got me thinking more about light.  We always know the sun will rise and set.  Sometimes the days are longer and sometimes, in some places, they are shorter.  But we can always anticipate that light from the sun will appear and that we will be able to see more clearly than we did in the dark.  However, in life, we don’t know when the light will come.  We don’t always know when things will become clear to us.  We don’t know when we will stop being confused, or hurt, or sad.  We don’t know why someone has been taken away from us in death, or what lesson not being able to find a job for over a year is supposed to teach us.  But then, there it is.  Clear and beautiful, begging to be regarded.

Sometimes I don’t know  what propels me to make the decisions I do.  But sometimes I see the light and all I can do is delight in it.