4.17.2012

a weekend in the Charles Street Jail

After our first swanky dinner at CLINK., we knew we'd love to spend a night at the Liberty Hotel. Designed by one of Boston's premiere architects of the time, the Charles Street Jail was a stunning building; and thanks to an award winning restoration, it now welcomes guests of the voluntary sort.

When we decided to celebrate Valentine's Day with a stay-cation like we did last year, we knew the Liberty was at the top of our list. It's also pricey. So when Ian found a great deal for a weekend in March, we were happy to adjust our plans to match.

We arrived mid-afternoon on St. Patrick's Day, still mourning the tournament loss of our beloved 'Cats. But the complimentary bubbly while they prepared our room for arrival helped to alleviate the pain. And the lobby, open to the roof and showcasing the stunning three-story windows, isn't a bad place to wait.

What a lovely welcome to The Liberty Hotel

We watched people in green mill around the lobby until the front desk clerk handed us our key cards. We walked into the elevators that are reserved for guests only, and shot up to the 10th floor.

view from the room

We spent some time relaxing in the room (which also involved some reruns of The Voice) and admiring our view, then headed back downstairs to find a dinner spot in Beacon Hill. We ended up at Artu per a recommendation from Kelly, and it was amazing. The service was a bit slow and the space lacked sparkle, but the food and cozy atmosphere more than made up for it. I could eat that tortellini in a sage butter sauce all day. The pasta itself was perfectly made and cooked, and who knew sage was so good on things besides turkey? Ian's gnocchi with veal also was a winner.

After dinner, we headed back to the hotel, doing our best to avoid the green-clad, and at this point loud and belligerent, revelers clustered around bar entrances. The hotel lobby was full of partiers as well, but with a quick flash of our guest card, we were given the VIP treatment, and quickly ushered past the bouncers. We used our key card to get to the upper balconies for a birds eye view of festivities, then headed back to our room. Because the giant soaking tub in our room was calling my name. In my book, the bathroom alone made our stay worth the money.

french toast at clink.

The next morning, we slept in extra late thanks to a late check out, then headed downstairs to CLINK. to check out Sunday brunch. My french toast and Ian's grass-fed burger topped with fried egg were solid but lacking that j'en sais quoi to make the dishes really noteworthy. Given the choice, I'd pick their dinner menu (but maybe still order that pomegranate mimosa...).

We left our bags with the concierge and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around Beacon Hill and Newbury Street—something we don't do often enough, before calling it a day and heading home.

All in all, it was a wonderful belated Valentine's weekend, with the perfect valentine (love you, Ian!).
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