God bless the Italian people
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If you are ever fortunate enough to visit Boston, be sure and stop in at Mike's Pastry on Hanover Street in the North End. On a Friday or Saturday night, the small pastry shop will be wall-to-wall people. There is no line to stand in, as the clerks there will attest.
Unfortunately, most of the people who go there don't know that. You must boldly push your way through the crowd, shout out your order to a sales clerk behind the counter, and happily ignore the dirty looks when you walk out with your white box tied up in blue string.
All the hassle will be worth it, of this you must trust me. For nowhere else will you find a better cannoli than at Mike's.
Now imagine my delight, when my favorite UPS man (I know, I really must stop referencing that awful story) rang my bell for a package delivery today, and I spied THIS on the outside of the box:
Only good things can come from that box. VERY good things.
And imagine my further delight when I opened up that box to find this:
And this:
The card inside was unsigned, but I suspect the giver of such a fine gift was none other than Christina. Am I right? Was it you?
Christina, who was my best friend growing up, moved to Boston several years ago. It was unfortunate that we had lost touch over the years because we were both living there at the same time and didn't know it. How I would have loved to share one of these with her in person, right there on the street.
Because who can wait until they get to the car to eat something from Mike's?
But today, I will proudly eat one here in my kitchen, raise my cannoli high, and toast to good friends like her.
Oh, and when the Husband comes home tonight, sees the empty box with the Mike's logo on the outside, I'll be sure and tell him it was a recycled box that somebody used to send us, um...well...oatmeal. Yeah, that's it. Oatmeal. Someone sent us oatmeal in a Mike's box. Wasn't that nice?
Definitely not cannolis. And definitely not cannolis that were all eaten by me, right?
Thanks, friend. Love you forever!
Unfortunately, most of the people who go there don't know that. You must boldly push your way through the crowd, shout out your order to a sales clerk behind the counter, and happily ignore the dirty looks when you walk out with your white box tied up in blue string.
All the hassle will be worth it, of this you must trust me. For nowhere else will you find a better cannoli than at Mike's.
Now imagine my delight, when my favorite UPS man (I know, I really must stop referencing that awful story) rang my bell for a package delivery today, and I spied THIS on the outside of the box:
Only good things can come from that box. VERY good things.
And imagine my further delight when I opened up that box to find this:
And this:
Christina, who was my best friend growing up, moved to Boston several years ago. It was unfortunate that we had lost touch over the years because we were both living there at the same time and didn't know it. How I would have loved to share one of these with her in person, right there on the street.
Because who can wait until they get to the car to eat something from Mike's?
But today, I will proudly eat one here in my kitchen, raise my cannoli high, and toast to good friends like her.
Oh, and when the Husband comes home tonight, sees the empty box with the Mike's logo on the outside, I'll be sure and tell him it was a recycled box that somebody used to send us, um...well...oatmeal. Yeah, that's it. Oatmeal. Someone sent us oatmeal in a Mike's box. Wasn't that nice?
Definitely not cannolis. And definitely not cannolis that were all eaten by me, right?
Thanks, friend. Love you forever!
