Word: cafã
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Maybe it was the social death sentence implicit in the blurbs that billed him as a “Freshman Phenom,” but only six people (counting me, the girl who was working at the Pent House caf??, and the person who promoted this Acoustic Tuesday over house lists) trickled in to the top floor of the SOCH to listen to Pete Davies' solo guitar...
...Stressbusters, a division of UHS’s Center for Wellness, gave out massages in Lamont caf?? today from 2-4. The group handed out shirts (Got Sleep?, it read), passed out information, and had a short survey about wellness and strategies to cope with stress. Irked students looked jealously upon the blissful faces of those who stepped...
...House of Blues, a former Harvard Square institution, broke in its new digs in Boston last night to the tune of a reunited J. Geils Band. Dan Aykroyd and Isaac Tigrett—who also founded the Hard Rock Caf?? chain together—opened up the first House of Blues in Harvard Square on 96 Winthrop St. in 1992. It closed in 2003 after outgrowing its original space, which held only 180 people. After the House of Blues closed, Brother Jimmy’s, a southern-themed bar and restaurant, moved in for about two years. Tommy Doyle?...
...fight my way to a counter space between that homeless-looking guy in the bomber jacket and the two TFs who like to grade papers in total, ominous silence over their cappuccinos. To those of you who spend your Saturdays in the airy, mostly sweet-smelling spaces of Lamont Caf?? or the Widener Stacks, never needing to elbow anyone more threatening than a group of Weld freshmen in order to secure yourself a spot: Don’t smirk and fold your arms complacently. This could be you sooner than you think...
...what I imagine one might have endured at the Baths of Caracalla in Ancient Rome.STEAMBATH FOR THREETwo unassuming, unnamed, but thankfully adventurous eaters accompanied me to the wasteland of a building that houses Staples along with much of Harvard Square’s own Little Asia. Between Wagamama, Bombay Caf??, Shilla, 9 Tastes and Om, this stretch of JFK Street is a hot pot of its own. We ascended a single dismal flight of stairs, passed the noticeably empty noodle joint, Wagamama (perhaps, thanks to this reviewer), and an eyebrow-raising view into the seedy kitchen of the Bombay...