The Freedom Trail is a wonderful walking tour of various old landmarks important in the early days of this grand country. Spanning a decent portion of Boston, the red line that marks the trail winds through such places as Samuel Adam and John Hancock's resting place, the Old South Meeting House, Paul Revere's old house, and the site of the Boston Massacre. These places remind us of the numerous freedoms that past men have fought and died to grant us. Freedoms such as expression, religion, the press, the right to bear arms, and the unalienable right to eat pastries.
It would be difficult for one not to notice the myriad pastry shops that line the Freedom Trail. Pies, cakes, cannolis, bars, and sweets of all kind have and shall always have a special place in my heart, both metaphorically and in the form of plaque. Health risks aside, few can say they don't get enjoyment out of an excellently crafted cheesecake, or a finely prepared Boston Cream Pie. That is why my friend and fellow Common Voice writer Jordan and I decided we would try and chart a different kind of Freedom Trail, a trail that marks not important sites on America's road to independence, but something equally as savory, something that holds just as dear place in the hearts of American: pastry vendors.
Jordan and I started the journey on Columbus Day at the Boston Common. We found the red line that would mark our path for the rest of the trip. Jordan commented, “It's like the yellow brick road, except red and this one leads to freedom!” And pastries, she neglected to mention. We walked along the path up to the State House, and our first stop on the Pastry Trail.
So we're a far leap away from the cornbread that most people ate during revolutionary times, (and thank god). I have no doubt, however, that had Jefferson, Washington, and gang tried one of Capitol Coffee House's muffins, they would have been proud indeed of the country they helped found. The aptly titled Capitol Coffee is directly across the street from the State House, and was stop number one on the Pastry Trail. The little joint is a fairly typical coffee purveyor, offering baked goods along with the black stuff. It started its life in 1977 and has been giving customers good food and coffee, along with a great view of the side of the State House, ever since. I purchased a blueberry muffin and took it to one of the seats facing toward the State House. Jordan and I looked at the side of the State House while we shared the muffin, both nodding as we took the first bites; it was as soft and warm as you could hope a muffin to be. After finishing the muffin, I waved goodbye to the eagle statue I could see outside, and we left Capitol Coffee House.
On our way to the next pastry shop, we passed the Park Street Church and the Granary Burying Ground. The Granary Burying grounds hold the bodies of Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Robert Treat Paine, all signers of the Declaration of Independence. I gave a silent thanks as I passed the cemetery, for it was these men that through their actions had allowed me in 2010 to sample baked goods from around the city of Boston. Such noble men.
Near King's Chapel, Jordan and I spotted Bruegger's Bagel Bakery and headed inside. It was another fine coffee shop, although this time considerably bigger than the homey Capital Coffee House. If you couldn't guess from their name, they had a large bagel selection to choose from. Jordan and I settled on a sugar cinnamon one with cream cheese. Upon picking it up, my fingers were immediately coated in sticky sugar, a coat of adhesive glue that refused to come off despite my best attempts at clean-up with a napkin. Only matching the intensity of the stickiness was the bagel's taste: fresh and oh-so sweet. If anything, I might describe this particular bagel as excessive. I don’t mean that in a completely disparaging way, but it did lack the subtleties of a more finely crafted bagel, instead opting for as much hyper-sweet sugar coating as possible. I should pause here to note that much of today’s culinary experiences, not just pastries (although especially pastries), suffer from this same defect; they go for over-the-top punch in sacrifice of nuance. This is America, after all, home of the mega-big and hyper-sized. And indeed, the sheer number of sweet shops that can be found on a trail that celebrates our freedom can be seen as an example of this over-saturation, this preference for blunt quantity over more refined quality. Despite all this, Jordan and I were ultimately pleased with our experience, and we retired from Breuggers and headed on our way.
Moving past the Old State House and the site of the Boston Massacre (now an intersection), we made our way to Faneuil Hall. There we found two wonderful stops on the Pastry Trail: Carol Ann Bake Shop and the North End Bakery. From the Carol Ann Bake Shop I nabbed a slice of cheesecake, and from the North End Bakery, a slice of Boston Cream Pie. Four forks now between us, Jordan and I took the pies (or is cheesecake considered cake?) to a stand-up eating area and went to town (The Town, that is) on the goods. Tourists swarmed around us, but we barely noticed as we relished the desserts. My first bite of the Boston Cream Pie took me to a place I hope I can one day revisit, and a similar story for the cheesecake. The former was definitely heavy on the cream part of Boston Cream Pie, and the top and bottom halves of the slice began to slide apart at the flowing white middle seam as Jordan and I stuck our forks in. This is a compliment, mind you, as the cream was considerably delicious. The cheesecake from Carol Ann was good as well, but it didn’t rise above the mark like the Boston Cream Pie did. If you're going to stop by Faneuil Hall, don't cheat yourself and stop at one of these two bakeries.
Upon exiting Faneuil Hall, Jordan and I found ourselves in the North End. The colors of the Italian flag hung around us as we stumbled upon Lula's Sweet Shoppe, formerly of Hanover Street, and the next stop on the Pastry Trail. Lulu's specializes in cupcakes, and I being a big fan of the peanut-butter / chocolate combination, bought a chocolate cupcake with peanut-butter frosting. The cupcakes at Lula's are immaculately dressed with frosting and sprinkles, so even before tasting one I was sure it was going to be a trip. I sliced the cupcake in half and handed one half to Jordan. So we didn't influence each other's opinions on the cupcake, we timed our first bites so they occurred at the same time. It turned out we didn't need such precautions, as it would have been impossible to find any fault with the chocolate pastry. I need to make a special note about the peanut-butter frosting, as I doubt I will often find frosting on equal par with the stuff that topped this cupcake. This cupcake, more than anything else I ate that day, comes with my most earnest recommendations.
Both Jordan and I were feeling particularly free after stopping by Lula's, and in an attempt to keep that feeling, we went just down the street from Lula's to the 24-hour bakery Bova's. Bova's is an Emerson staple, so I'm far from unacquainted with the shop. Jordan wasn't feeling too well after the previous sweets, so I got to tackle a Reese's Conga Bar alone. Essentially a giant Reese's Peanut-Butter Cup, the bar was probably the richest things I ate on the Pastry Trail, another good example of the quantity-over-quality thing I was talking about earlier. Despite my stomach beginning to protest, I ate the entire thing, unable to stop. Bova's has a pretty large selection of different pastries, including some pretty awesome canollis, but I suggest no one passes up trying one of these Conga Bars, but only if you think you’re up eating the equivalent of nine or ten Reese’s Peanut-Butter Cups at once.
It was my turn to feel ill after Bova's. I needed some time to digest, and was given that time by way of an immense line leading out of Modern Pastry, the next location on the Pastry Trail. Modern Pastry is a medium-sized bakery deep in the North End, and taking the long line as a cue, a popular place for pastry lovers the city over. It’s been around for over seventy years, run by the same family throughout its existence. If its popularity was any indication, then Modern Pastry was a top-tier pastry pusher, and despite my stomach hurricaning around, I was looking forward to sampling its wares. Since Jordan had been left out of the last stop, she got to choose the dessert here; she got a canolli. The cool thing about Modern Pastry and their canollis is how they prepare them. One orders a canolli at the counter with all the desired ingredients and size, and they make it fresh right then and there. When we received our canolli, it was still warm and the powdered sugar on top looked like it had just settled. I let Jordan have the majority of the canolli, but the few bites I did have were splendid. While chewing on the canolli, I couldn't help but reflect on how the Founding Fathers left England to found the United States so one day, some odd 250 years later, I could be sitting here eating an Italian dessert. Ah, freedom!
Saying goodbye to Modern Pastry, Jordan and I traveled further up the Freedom Trail, following the red line up past Paul Revere's old house. What a rinky-dink place it looked like. We continued on to the Old North Church and Copp's Hill Burying Ground. While moving past the Old North Church, I accidentally got in line with some elderly folks waiting to go inside the church, thinking they were waiting to cross the road. I stood patiently before I felt Jordan pulling on my shirt, pointing to the crosswalk. It was a close call; I almost got trapped inside the historic old church. Who knows how long I would have been wandering around, hanging with the elderly, before I got out of there.
Immediately across the street was the eight stop on the Pastry. Cafe Lil Italy was it's name, and upon entering the little coffee shop, I was immediately struck by the chill-ass vibe I got form the place. Lit primarily by the sun through the windows, the cafe's interior was sleek and dark. A glass case held an assortment of different muffins, bagels, and scones. I chose one of the latter, and Jordan and I took it to a small table in the corner. Despite now being later in the day, the scone still tasted fresh. The scone had an innocuous appearance, so I was surprised to find it lemon flavored. The lemon was far from overpowering, and I was able to enjoy a treat that didn’t try and beat me over the head with flavor. My chair squeaked as I leaned back, scone in hand, looking outside at the Old North Church across the street. The atmosphere of Cafe Lil Italy provided me with this opportunity of relaxation, and I took it in as if I was a long-time patron.
Jordan finally had to suggest we take our leave of the cafe. I was content to stay and enjoy my surroundings, but dammit, we had a trail of pastries to forge! Onward we went, across the Charlestown bridge heading toward the USS Constitution and the Bunker Hill Monument. Along the way we found the final stop on the Pastry Trail, the chic and modern Sorelle Bakery and Cafe.
The Sorelle Bakery and Cafe was definitely more of a coffee shop than a bakery, but it still had a decent selection of cookies and muffins to choose from. Jordan and I decided to keep it simple and went for a large chocolate chip cookie. We took advantage of Sorelle's outdoor seating, the only outdoor seating on the Pastry Trail, to enjoy the cookie. It came wrapped in plastic, and removed it, I broke the cookie in half like a communion bread loaf, and Jordan and I ate it in relative silence. The tourists had thinned out here, so we were the only people around. The cookie was dry and bland. I can’t say much more than that, and really, I wasn’t expecting much from its initial sorry and lumpy appearance. I dutifully ate the entire thing, then turned to Jordan.
“Well, shall we?” I asked, this time the one to spur us on.
“We shall,” replied Jordan.
According to the map, the Bunker Hill Monument was the final destination on the Freedom Trail. We walked through the picturesque neighborhoods of Charlestown to get to the large obelisk. It didn't take very long before the large spire was before us, looming up in the sky as our finish line marker. “That's it, I suppose. The Pastry trail is done,” I said. And it was. Following the Freedom Trail, Jordan and I had stopped and sampled nine different pastry shops and bakeries, all the while taking in the old sites of freedom around Boston. We'd forged a brand new path, the glorious and grand Pastry Trail. We were the Lewis and Clark of desserts.
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