I go to Head of the Charles not for the race, but for all the vendors giving out free food. As I walk across the muddy turf, thanking the River Gods for such beautiful weather, the food stands hypnotize me: I find myself edge closer and closer to them. There’s just something about free food. Honestly, I could care less about spending a few dollars on the bagful of goodies I collect, but it’s that intrinsic happiness of getting something for free that makes me want to spend an hour in crowded lines instead of catching up on reading or finishing that problem set. It’s all about the cost benefit analysis. The cost is time lost studying. The benefit is happiness and free stuff. As I learned in kindergarten, two things are generally better than one. Besides, I’ll just sleep one hour less to make up for the time lost studying. Spread that lack of sleep over the course of several days, and my (waking) life is back together in no time.

As I walk, my bag gets increasingly heavy: Lara Bars, Sabra hummus, Nantucket Nectars fruit drinks, Svelte Soy Milk, Tea’s Teas, imported Kerrygold cheese…the list just goes on and on. Did you know that in an experiment where people can either buy an ordinary piece of chocolate for a penny or a high-end piece for 15 cents, most people would get the more expensive chocolate? On the other hand, if you give the ordinary one for free and sell the high-end one for 14 cents, the majority will go with the free one! Same difference, but the concept of “free” distorts everything.

Oh, and while I was there, I checked out the race. For me (and I’m sure for many others), it’s food with a race on the side.  Kind of like when you go overboard with dressing or sauce: one of my friends always orders syrup with a side of pancakes.

Celia Zhang ’13 (celiazhang@college) appreciates the finer things and tolerates regattas.

Toscanini’s

At first glance, it seemed like a scam. After carefully scrutinizing the site, however, I realized it was not: a 100% off coupon for Toscanini’s ice cream on Scoutmob that was valid for 5 days. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Toscanini’s is known as the best ice cream in the world, according to the New York Times. And when the New York Times makes a claim, it is usually a legitimate one. Even on other lists of best ice cream in the world, Toscanini’s has always been a contender. I thus knew that I would be biting into something legendary.

Walking with a friend to Central Square (we figured the 20 minute walk was enough to justify the calories), we waited in a long line before being served. Reading on Yelp that Toscanini’s is known for its Belgian chocolate ice cream, I ordered that, while my friend went with the mango sorbet. I also sampled the world-famous burnt caramel flavor, but found the taste overpoweringly sweet and decided against it.

The ice cream was smooth and rich. It is frozen to a temperature a bit lower than traditional ice-cream shops, resulting in a perfect creaminess. Plus, the ice cream is made on site, which adds to its freshness. As far as my huge scoop of Belgian ice cream went, it was literally blobs of grounded chocolate frozen inside the cream. After half a cup, I could take no more of a richness that had gone too far. The mango sorbet, while it tasted like mango, seemed to be cream-based instead of water-based, and was again too heavy. When I want something rich, I will order ice cream; when I want something lighter, I order sorbet. There is a line between the two and for me, Toscanini’s crossed that line.

The next day, using a friend’s coupon, I went back for another scoop as an early morning treat after a run. Even though the initial experience was not the best, I found myself craving that rich, fresh, cream immensely later on in the night. That was when I knew the power of Toscanini’s had taken over my soul — I guess all good things take time. This time, I went with the hazelnut, another flavor the salesperson recommended, and I was in food heaven. Slightly melted ice cream, just dripping down the cup, my tongue raced to lick it before it made a mess. Nutty and of perfect consistency, the ice cream brought me back to childhood, as I felt my mouth become enveloped in the art of delectable desserts.

Kickass Cupcakes

It seems that food trucks followed me from New York to Boston. Living in New York over the summer, I was shocked at the multitude of food trucks around the city. Back on Harvard’s campus, there has been a recent spring of food trucks across campus: Lefty’s Silver Cart, the Dining Car, and Kickass Cupcakes. They provide an alternative for busy students who want a meal on the go but are tired of dining hall food or food from the Greenhouse Café, or for those students who simply want a little treat to break up a long day. Deciding to reward myself after my five hour, very productive lock-up in the Dunster House library, I decided to indulge in a $3 Kickass Cupcake. Going exotic, I decided on the Lotus Blossom, a vanilla cupcake with a sake-soaked pear center, lychee icing, and a fresh lime zest garnish.

When I was in fourth grade, I did a skit on self-control. When it comes to food, however, I have none, and probably never will. Telling myself to only eat a few bites, enough to write about the experience, I ate the entire thing. Why? Because the cake, fully loaded with stable and solid saturated fat molecules, simply melts in your mouth. Rich, buttery, and sugary (perhaps a bit too sugary), I was in short-term dessert heaven. But a few bites later, I found the cake too rich and overpowering. It was like being tackled full force, instead of the more subtle and delicate taste you get with really good dessert.

Another thing that stood out to me was the distinct Asian combination of flavor. Taking small bites of the icing, I could discern that the lychee flavor easily, though slightly overpowered by the sugar. The sake was caramelized onto the pear, and the pear was still slightly crunchy, so I knew the cupcake was fresh.

My parting thought? Kickass Cupcakes are worth the calories every once in a while, though overindulgence runs the risk of re-creating this terrible headache I currently have from sugar overload alone.

Celia Zhang ’13 (celiazhang@college.harvard.edu) isn’t afraid to indulge when it’s worth it.