Brent K.
Yelp
Let me take you back to the mid-90s, when Friends was must-see TV, cargo pants were inexplicably cool, and I discovered a little slice of Italy tucked away on Mill Avenue called Caffe Boa. Back then, my idea of fine dining was successfully not burning my Top Ramen, but this place? This place was fancy with a capital F.
Fast forward to today, and while my hair has gotten thinner and Mill Avenue's seen more changes than a chameleon in a crayon factory, Caffe Boa stands there like your reliable Italian uncle who still makes the best sauce in town. The surrounding bars may be playing music that makes me feel ancient, but step inside Boa, and suddenly I'm that college kid again (just with better taste in wine and the ability to actually afford it).
Working on Mill these days, I've developed what I call the "Boa Gravitational Pull." It's a scientific phenomenon where around dinner time, my feet automatically start shuffling in Boa's direction, as if drawn by the magnetic force of their garlic bread. The fact that it's walking distance from my office is both a blessing and a curse - blessing for my soul, curse for my attempts at portion control.
Let's talk about their lasagna - or as I like to call it, "The Great Wall of Pasta." This isn't just a serving of lasagna; it's a geometric miracle. It arrives at your table looking like it was designed by an Italian architect, swimming in a bolognese sauce so good it should have its own Instagram account. The cream-tinted sauce isn't just a sauce; it's a silk robe for your taste buds.
Then there's the Ravioli Zucca, which is Italian for "pillows of joy stuffed with butternut squash." Topped with hazelnuts and sage in a garlic butter sauce, it's the kind of dish that makes you want to hug the chef and ask if they're taking adoption applications. The hazelnuts add a crunch that says, "Hey, you're eating something fancy!" while the garlic butter sauce whispers, "Don't you dare leave a single drop on this plate."
The drink menu is where things get interesting. Sure, you could go for a classic cocktail or wine (their wine list is longer than my college thesis), but then there's Rakija. For the uninitiated, Rakija is a Balkan fruit brandy that puts hair on your chest (metaphorically speaking - I hope). It comes in flights, which is perfect because after the first taste, you might need your taste buds to call in reinforcements.
Caffe Boa has hosted more first dates than a dating app and more graduation dinners than I can count. It's where awkward first date conversations have blossomed into marriages, and where "I can't believe we're graduating" has turned into "I can't believe our kids are graduating."
While Mill Avenue around it has morphed from record stores to whatever-young-people-are-into-these-days, Boa remains steadfast, like that one friend who never went through an embarrassing fashion phase. It's still the perfect escape from the thumping bass of nearby clubs, offering a slice of serenity with a side of perfectly al dente pasta.
Pro tip: If you're going for dinner, make a reservation. Nothing says "I should have planned better" like watching couples inside enjoying their romantic pasta while you're outside contemplating the life choices that led to this moment.
P.S. To all my fellow Mill Avenue workers - yes, that was me you saw power-walking toward Boa at 5:01 PM. No, I will not apologize for my pasta enthusiasm.
