In the Belly of the Feast

August in New England, and you know what means - the Feast of St. Anthony in Boston's North End, one of Andrew's Holy High Days of the calendar year, because, you know, more Italian food than even a growing 23-year-old can devour.

In case you haven't experienced the glory that is the Feast, a little background, straight from the event's website: the tradition of honoring Saint Anthony of Padua dates back to the early part of the 20th century and the large numbers of Southern Italian immigrants that reached America.  Hundreds of thousands of poor European immigrants flooded the northeastern United States, and in Boston, many settled in the North End.  They brought their customs and traditions.  Legend has it that a group of men from the small mountain town of Montefalcione, Avellino, just east of Naples in the Campagnia region of Italy founded the Feast.

And since 1919, as in done in Montefalcione on the weekend of the last Sunday of August, the people of the North End celebrate the Feast of Saint Anthony himself.

The Feast features parades, marching bands, floats, an Open Air Mass with the veneration and the individual blessing of the Relic of Saint Anthony, the patron saint of finding things or lost people.

First up for food was one of Andrew's favorites, bruschetta and toast.

We opted for a healthy start with a fabulous caprese salad

Ever since our first excursion down to the Feast in the 1980s, one of the staples of our visit has been the incredible cherrystone clams that many of the vendors put forth.  This year, it meant the first tasting ever for both Andrew and Brennan.  Mike, as he is wont to do, smothered his in the hottest sauce available (more on that later).  The rest of us opted for the standard cocktail sauce.

Seriously, you can't live in New England without having experienced one of these gems at least once in your lifetime.  You've been put on notice.

Moving on, it was time for Pizzeria Regina, some of the North End's most famous pizza

An interesting addition this time around was Wild Bill's soda carts.  Buy yourself a mug and keep refilling it all night with birch beer, sarsaparilla, root bear, creme soda or black cherry soda.  We availed ourselves of just about all the flavors.

Mike indulged himself in a bottle of hellbazing Chelsea fire hot sauce.  The guy can drink shots of the stuff.  He may have sweated a bit for his efforts.

Brennan held his own with a chicken parm sandwich

And so the sun sets on another Feast.  No pics of the cannolis, those came home with us.  Couldn't score them at Modern Pastry or Mike's, though, as the lines were out their doors and around the corners.  But we made out just fine at one of the street vendors.

The festival still runs through today, so if you've got a free Sunday in front of you, head on down!  And grab a cannoli for us, won't you?