ボストン最後の昼は、ずっと気になっていた ノースエンドのNeptune Oysterへ。
事前に調べると、「ボストンで一番おいしい」「30分前には並ぶべし」という口コミばかり。
旅行中のレストラン情報は半信半疑で読むことも多いのですが、ここまで皆が同じことを書くなら従ってみようと、スーツケースを引きながら開店35分前に到着しました。
結果は大正解。先頭を確保です。
その後ろには11時の開店を待つ人が次々と並び、扉が開く頃には長蛇の列。
注文したのは名物のジョニーケーキにロブスターをたっぷり載せた一皿。
クラムチャウダー。
そして4種類のオイスター。
なるほど、これは人気になるわけです。
ロブスターは甘く、牡蠣は産地ごとに塩味も香りも違う。
どちらも期待を裏切りませんでした。
それにしても、不思議です。
ステーキは巨大、コーラはバケツサイズ、コーヒーは味より量。
そんな「細かいことは気にしない」食文化に見えるアメリカで、牡蠣だけは別格なのです。
産地、潮の流れ、塩分、ミネラル、収穫時期まで語り始めると、日本のワイン好きにも負けません。
考えてみれば、ニューイングランドは寒流と暖流が交わる世界有数の牡蠣の産地。
ロブスターと牡蠣は、この土地の人たちにとってはハンバーガーではなく、むしろ郷土の誇りなのでしょう。
もちろん、僕は「亜鉛補給です」と言いながら4種類を平らげました。医学的には間違っていません。
でも、本当の目的は、ボストン最後の昼に、この街が何を誇り、何を愛しているのかを味わってみたかったからなのかもしれません。
For my final lunch in Boston, I headed to Neptune Oyster in the North End—a place I had been curious about throughout my stay.
Before going, I had done a little research. Nearly every review said the same thing: “The best seafood in Boston” and “Get there at least 30 minutes before opening.” I usually take travel recommendations with a grain of salt, but when everyone says exactly the same thing, it’s probably worth listening.
So I arrived 35 minutes before opening, suitcase in tow.
It turned out to be exactly the right decision—I was first in line.
Soon, more and more people gathered behind me, and by the time the doors opened at 11 a.m., the line stretched well down the street.
I ordered their famous Johnnycake topped generously with lobster, a bowl of clam chowder, and four different varieties of oysters.
Now I understood why this place is so beloved.
The lobster was wonderfully sweet, while each oyster had its own distinct character, reflecting its origin through subtle differences in salinity, minerality, and aroma. Neither disappointed.
What struck me, though, was something else.
America often seems to celebrate abundance: steaks are enormous, soft drinks come in bucket-sized cups, and coffee is judged more by quantity than subtle flavor.
Yet oysters are treated entirely differently.
People here speak passionately about where they were harvested, the tidal currents, salinity, mineral composition, and even the season in which they were collected. The conversations rival those of serious wine enthusiasts in Japan.
Then again, perhaps it makes perfect sense.
New England is one of the world’s great oyster-producing regions, where cold and warm ocean currents meet. For the people of this region, lobster and oysters are not simply seafood—they are part of their local identity and a source of genuine pride.
As for me, I happily worked my way through all four varieties, joking that I was merely “replenishing my zinc.”
Medically speaking, that isn’t entirely inaccurate.
But perhaps my real reason was something else.
On my final afternoon in Boston, I wanted to taste what this city is truly proud of—and what its people genuinely love.
