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Neighborhood Eats: A Find fit for the Mayor

November 28, 2011

I’ve told this story a few times now over the course of Thanksgiving; it goes sometimes like this:

One beautiful fall Saturday, my roommate and I walk to breakfast at a place called Sorella‘s before I have to be at work. We come to the first door with an awning, which seems to indicate a sub-level storefront cafe. A stocky woman with an apron opens the door, takes in our number, and directs us to another door next door up a set of concrete steps. Apparently, Sorella’s occupies more than one former apartment space. We have no objections to this second dining area, generously lit up by the bay window looking out onto the street. Moreover, there’s only one gentleman here compared to the loud chatter we heard downstairs. Other than registering that our only company was a man with grey hair and a grey suit, we don’t think too much in the quiet of upstairs before seating ourselves at the oval table by the wide window.

We are given menus and are immediately captivated by the variety and affordability of Sorella’s menu – juices, breakfast sandwiches, a page and a half dedicated to omelets. My first, second, and third impulse is to get breakfast meat – sausage or hash or the full Irish breakfast. I overcome these impulses to examine the many omelets filled with wonderful vegetables like spinach and tomatoes and topped with alfalfa sprouts. I finally decide on one with all of the aforementioned as well as goat cheese and pesto and black beans. My roommate, meat-lover that he is, goes with andouille sausage and eggs. I am not without envy at his choice.

But then my omelet arrives, slowly exuding the green-brown mineral broth of fresh greens and tomato. The egg cover is light and fluffy. The goat cheese and pesto are generous. There is a perfect little side of home fries and slices of wheat toast slathered in butter. All of this is less than $10.

As our coos of delight and vows to make Sorella’s a weekly ritual give way to chewing and tasting, we become cognizant that the gentleman behind us has been joined by two others. Then we hear another woman asking him if she could take a photo, as her sister from Toronto is visiting for Thanksgiving. We hear a familiar voice acquiesce. During the round of thanks that follow, we curiously and not too surreptitiously turn around to take a look at who would be famous enough to warrant a photo op in this quiet and excellent breakfast spot. Turns out, our breakfast companion was Boston Mayor Thomas Menino, who is a lot harder to spot when he’s by himself.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Cookie Monster permalink
    December 1, 2011 5:22 pm

    🙂 Win.

  2. cissyhuang permalink*
    December 1, 2011 5:26 pm

    Come visit. We’ll go.

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