I have never been enamored with canollis. Always thought they were too sweet and stale tasting. And I have never been in love with Boston. Nice enough. But it did not ensnare my emotions sufficiently enough. Until last weekend.
The earth moved when I happened upon a “harbor walk” along Boston Harbor that hugged the harbor offering such happy views of deep blue water and sail boat racing. I love to sail. I just knew how exhilarating it was out there!
This walk also drew me towards the Boston Aquarium. It looked awesome and I had heard it is dynamic and fascinating. But there was a very long line, so I decided to stay outside in the brilliant sunshine and keep walking.
The harbor walk guided me towards little shops and harbor side restaurants, and finally, I noticed that I was almost parallel with the North End, or Little Italy. Great! I’d walk up the hill and claim a table in the sun to order a cappuccino!
Up the hill, walked to the right, turned, walked to the left, and stopped. Really really long line outside of a store, so long it didn’t look right. So I asked one of the line keepers what they were in line for. Eyes went skyward. Canollis!
Asked another person what they were in line for. Eyes rolled towards heaven. Strawberry shortcake!
OK, I had to do it. I joined at the end of this very very long line and waited for over half an hour for my turn at the now intriguing pastry counter.
They had miniature canollis, and with the prodding of my line mates I ordered one and immediately put it in my mouth. Oh, can words describe?! Sooooo delicious. Not too sweet. Tasting like fresh ricotta cheese. Light. Delectable. I immediately ordered more and other pastries behind the counter. I then drove the two hours home and opened the box.
My little treasures arrived all in one piece. Now, one by one, I and my lucky Mom would consume and rate them.
On this culinary journey I was discovering that how something looks does not always give you a clue to how it tastes. This looked humble, but it tasted like the Queen of Shortcakes. The juice of the strawberry filling seeping down into the bottom layer of cake made it to die for moist and enticing.
But it was these Boston bad boys that stole my heart. Now I am driven to drive right back down to my favorite town Boston, have an invigorating walk along the harbor, stop at one of the harbor side restaurants for a chowda’ lunch, then walk back up that hill, this time to the left, and make my way back to Modern Bakery. Like a chapel filled with holy light, it is drawing me back for canollis.