Taiwan-based chain that claims to be “one of the most recognized bubble tea brands around the world” is expanding again, this time opening another shop in Cambridge.
According to an article from boston.com, Gong Cha is opening in Harvard Square, moving into a space on Church Street. The post says that the upcoming place will offer the same options as the other locations, including bubble tea, slush, and other tea beverages, and it will join another store at CambridgeSide along with other locations locally in Boston, Burlington, Lowell, Malden, Natick, Peabody, and Quincy.
The new shop plans to open on September 9, according to the article.
The address for Gong Cha in Harvard Square is 50 Church Street, Cambridge, MA, 02138. The website for the chain is at https://www.gongchausa.com/
Milk teas, fruit-based beverages, slushes, and more will be on the menu.
A new branch of the bubble tea company Gong Cha will open in Harvard Square on Sept. 9. This shop marks the 100th store of Anchal Lamba, Gong Cha’s “youngest and most successful” master franchisee in the U.S., according to the company.
Lamba said she has been interested in the Harvard Square neighborhood for several years because college students love to drink bubble tea, but it was just a matter of finding the right space.
“It’s right by Harvard University, it’s got great retail, and it’s kind of a perfect fit for Gong Cha,” Lamba said. “I’ve had stores in the Boston area since 2017, in Chinatown, Allston, [and more]. We really are growing. Harvard Square’s always been at the top of our list for many years.”
The original El Jefe’s Taqueria location in Harvard Square suffered a slow, unglamorous death on Thursday.
The horchata was the first victim. Then, the hot sauce wall suffered its demise. Finally, the menu behind the burrito counter vanished, forcing the last customers at the old location to order their meals from memory.
But El Jefe’s was quickly reborn in the Square with its new location in The Abbot building opening just minutes after the old storefront closed.
The new location will offer new menu options for customers, according to Jon Eller, the regional manager of El Jefe’s.
Eller said he is excited to add al pastor to the menu as another meat option for customers.
“It’s something that we already offer at all locations and we just couldn’t do it at the 83 Mt. Auburn location because of space,” he said. “It’s just something new, something I feel like students will appreciate.”
SARASOTA, Fla., Aug. 17, 2022 /PRNewswire/ — Le Macaron French Pastries, the #1 destination for authentic French macarons and pastries, announced four new locations this month in Alabama, Indiana, Massachusetts, and Tennessee. The openings solidify the brand’s position as the top French Patisserie with 64 locations nationwide and at least 10 additional stores planned by the end of the year. The new locations include:
Cool Springs, Tennessee located at 1800 Galleria Blvd. The new store joins the Nashville location as the second Le Macaron in Tennessee
Cambridge, Massachusetts at 1374 Massachusetts Avenue, Suite 101 in Harvard Square. The location marks the second in Massachusetts, following the opening of the Somerville store last month
Elkhart, Indiana located at 503 S. Main Street. The Elkhart is one of three locations planned for Indiana
Valley Bend, Alabama located at 315 The Bridge Street in Huntsville
“We are delighted to welcome these new franchisees to the Le Macaron family,” said founder Rosalie Guillem. “The owners of these locations are highly motivated and looking forward to interacting with guests as well as the communities they serve.”
Le Macaron is purposefully expanding in new markets where customers clamor for delicious, authentic macarons, gourmet chocolates, French gelato, European-style coffee, and other classic French pastries. Founded in 2009 by Rosalie Guillem and her daughter, Audrey Saba, Le Macaron is committed to offering premium products and excellent service to its customers while also offering lucrative opportunities for franchisees.
“We have more than 15 franchises in various stages of development,” said Le Macaron spokesperson Greg Guillem. “Our profitable annual unit volumes are exceeding expectations and fueling more growth, so it’s a very exciting time for us.”
Le Macaron’s traditional music and European-style décor offers customers the experience of an inviting, sophisticated Parisian café. The menu features more than 20 flavors of macarons and frequently includes seasonal flavors and limited time offerings to celebrate holidays and special occasions. Macarons take center stage, but there are plenty of classic French pastries such as Napoleons, homemade chocolates, cakes, and gelato to tempt the most discerning sweet tooth. In addition to Le Macaron’s cafes, the company has a thriving catering and corporate gifting business that operates at a brisk pace year around.
Le Macaron was recently named to the FranServe 2022 Fran-Tastic 500 list, which recognizes the top franchises in the country. For more information, visit http://lemacaron-us.com.
About Le Macaron French Pastries
Founded in 2009 by Rosalie Guillem and her daughter Audrey, Le Macaron French Pastries is an elegant French patisserie that offers guests the finest, authentic French macarons and pastries. Headquartered in Sarasota, Florida, the brand began franchising in 2012 and has since grown to more than 64 locations across the U.S. Le Macaron French Pastries is ranked on Inc. 5,000 2016, #17 on the 2019 Top Emerging Franchise List as well as ranking on the Top 100 Food and Beverage category by Entrepreneur and holds a No. 9 ranking in the baked goods category.
A group of LGBTQ+ Harvard affiliates received violent threats via email last week in anonymously-sent messages that included a litany of homophobic slurs.
A “small number” of students, faculty, and staff received the emails, according to a note to Harvard affiliates sent Tuesday by University President Lawrence S. Bacow, who condemned the messages as “profoundly disturbing.”
The emails target LGBTQ+ recipients with anti-gay tropes of “brainwashing our children” and spreading the monkeypox virus, according to a copy of one of the messages obtained by The Crimson. It is unclear how many affiliates received the emails or if they all contained the same language.
The emails threatened physical harm against recipients, telling them to “watch your back.”
The messages, which purported to be from a group called “Harvard Straight Pride,” were sent via an encrypted email service.
“There are dozens of us here at Harvard,” the email obtained by The Crimson said. The email concluded with the statement: “Cambridge is MAGA Country.”
The Harvard University Police Department and Harvard University Information Technology are working with federal law enforcement to investigate the threats, Bacow said.
“Rest assured that if we can identify those responsible, we will pursue their prosecution to the fullest extent of the law,” Bacow wrote.
Bacow disclosed little about the contents of the emails, saying he did not want to “give greater voice” to individuals “who seek to perpetrate hatred and fear.”
“While we believe that only a small number of people actually received this message, it targeted every member of the LGBTQ+ community,” Bacow wrote. “Such a threat cannot go unchallenged, and is wholly inconsistent with the values of this community.”
What would “trust, respect, generosity, care, positivity and inspiration” look like behind the windowpanes of a corner store?
A wander down Mount Auburn Street, beyond Harvard University’s Smith Center at its intersection of Holyoke Street, sits a pint-sized space that hopes to show passersby just that – and maybe more.
The sign for “Gallery 24/7” – a red-letter, paper cutout, propped in a pane along Holyoke – could be missed easily were it not for the iridescent pink scales of a white fish design placed alongside. A few steps beyond, taped near the Mount Auburn entry, is a more informative sign. The corner location, once a Bank of American ATM, has morphed into an all-day, all night artists’ collaborative, the latest in what some hope will be a series of public art installations in and around the city. This location is sponsored by Harvard Student Agencies, which owns the space, and the Harvard Square Business Association, as well as the creatives who provide their work for free.
The temporary gallery took root soon after Denise Jillson, executive director of the business association, passed by on one of her daily strolls through the square. Jillson noticed the empty space in early June and called her HSA contact, Dan Boldt (founder of Trademark Tours and “former punk,” according to Jillson, who got to know him during his undergraduate years at Harvard). That was followed by a conversation with local ceramist Kyoko Ono about curating the site. HSA gave the thumbs up, Ono said yes and, within a few weeks, the space was transformed.
The hangout spot is being transformed into a plaza. Boston.com readers told us their reflections of the public space.
Construction on the Harvard Square pit will begin this summer. Globe Staff/David L Ryan
The Harvard Square pit, the red brick, sunken space near the Harvard Square MBTA Station, has been a hangout spot since it opened in the 1980s. Originally meant as an area for street performers to be showcased, the pit will be taken down this summer in order for construction on a new plaza, which will last about 18 months, to begin.
For many people, the public space is part of the culture of Harvard Square. It has become a place for young people, particularly those with a “revolutionary” spirit, to congregate, according to Cambridge city councilor and former mayor Marc McGovern.
“I started hanging out in the pit when I was about 15,” McGovern said. “I was in high school and was into the punk rock style in music, and the pit was a gathering place for like-minded young people, so I gravitated there. …You would make your rounds. You would start off in the pit, then you’d go to Cafe Aventura, you’d bum around Newbury Comics for a while — you kind of did the rounds, but the pit was always the anchor.”
We’ve collected memories from readers who shared what the pit has meant to them through the years. Scroll down to read 10 reflections on the Harvard Square pit.
Readers share memories of the Harvard Square pit:
“The pit is something that made that part of Harvard Square unique. I grew up going to the area at least once a month, usually two to three times a month, on weekends. No other area had something like the pit. I will miss it, knowing it is gone. I am glad it is at least becoming a plaza and not being converted into another store building.”
— Wayne, Tewksbury
“Cell phones were not a thing when I first found the pit, and I was late to the party. It was 1990; I was 16 and excited by the energy. I had walked through many times with my parents or grandparents heading to Cardullo’s or grabbing a burger from the Tasty (no, not Tasty Burger) but never stopped. … [Leaving] the house, [going] to the pit to find out what’s up, beats a cell phone any day. Yeah, it was a bit dangerous, but it was alive! … People heard about the pit from all corners of the planet; they will be disappointed when they arrive. …Goodbye, pit, but you’ve been dead a long time, starved out.”
— L.M., Cambridge
“I was a little too shy to hang in the pit when I was in high school. The punk guys were so cute. I didn’t feel cool enough. The energy coming from the pit influenced the whole Square, making it feel edgier and fun. When I was a kid, my Mom would bring me there to see folk music and eat hermit bars. The pit was my generation’s contribution. I was thrilled to get the opportunity to throw a celebration bash for the place, thanks to the Harvard Square Business Association and councilor McGovern. We had so much fun putting it together. It was exciting to watch old Pit Rats and kids who’d never experienced the scene partying together.”
— Jen Deaderick, author and Pit-A-Palooza event organizer
“We used to hang out there with my friends when we were young and listen to punk music.”
— William L., Arlington
“The pit is the origin of my social life in Boston. Coincidentally. Not because we went there to be social. [It was an] easy meeting ground, [with] good people-watching. A dirty hole in a clean area. We smoked, we drank. The pit was where the transient population of Harvard Square went to sleep and enjoy their high. The city does not understand the culture of the pit or the pit people; they won’t recognize the memories and time spent in the vague lounge-like area outside of the T station. They simply were not there to experience the vibe. It’s a damn shame; I’m sure they’d keep it if they knew. Anyways. Pit people for life. Rest in peace, pit.”
“My husband and I spent many beautiful evenings in Harvard Square. The pit was always a destination to hear good music. We always appreciated hearing singer/songwriter Tracy Chapman, who was just starting her career. I also remember greatly enjoying the very talented Shakespeare Brothers whose performance of street magic and circus tricks was outstanding — the three of them went on to great careers. I’m happy the area will become even a better place to invite people to gather and hear great entertainment.” — Cyndi B., formerly of Belmont “In the early 80’s, this was where the punk rockers would hang out. I was in middle school and an upper-classman in my town would hang there with his pet rat sitting on his shoulder. For us who listened to music that wasn’t mainstream and wore surplus clothing, the crowd at the pit made us feel comfortable.” — Chris L., Melrose “1985-1987, ages 14-16, it was a teenage hangout while we were ‘in between.’ [We were] not old enough for clubs, but ready to be out after dark, hang out with friends, meet new people, and listen to live music. We took the bus from Lechmere to the Square. There was always a performer, playing either blues or rock. Music that was ‘old’ sounding, but at the same time new to me. We went there in all seasons, but I especially remember the nights that were cold. It was full of alternative people. Maybe some punk kids, maybe some local teens, and maybe even some Harvard kids.” — Laurie, Cambridge “Proposed to my wife there, [around] 20 years ago. It was cold, dark, and smelly. We’re still going strong.” — Andres, Dover “Years ago, a friend sent his 15-year-old daughter from Germany to stay with my wife and me to go to summer school. She went out to explore Cambridge on her own, one afternoon. When she returned, we asked her what she had done. She told us she had discovered this wonderful outdoor theatrical production with fascinating actors performing. We couldn’t figure out where she had been, until after much questioning, we realized that she had stumbled across the Harvard Square pit, with its motley collection of oddball characters that was changing by the minute. At least she had experienced an adventure to regale her friends with when she returned to Germany.” — Lyle J., Cambridge
For the last few weeks of my fall 2021 semester at Harvard, that thought kept going through my head. Because … I did. I discovered the body of a deceased unhoused gentleman across the street from my school, Harvard University. And, even though I have lived through many personal traumas, this one shook me to my core in a very different way. It took me a little while to tell this story, but it needs to be heard. Harvard needs to hear it.
The Friday before fall break, I was shooting the final project for my Fundamentals of Photography class. The theme I chose was a glimpse into the daily lives of two subjects on either side of the Harvard gates: a freshman friend of mine who experiences certain privileges on the inside of the gates and a newly engaged and newly sober unhoused couple on the outside of the gates who are seemingly on the opposite end of the privilege spectrum. (The photo project was selected to be featured in a 2022 publication of The Harvard Political Review Spring Covers Issue: “How Are You?”) That particular Friday, I was invited to follow a day in the life of the unhoused couple, a pair I became close with through my volunteer shifts at the Harvard Square Homeless Shelter. At 8:15 a.m., I documented as they began to move their “home,” a mountain of blankets, pillows, and trash bags full of clothes, for the second time in less than three hours. Once packed, a security guard from the bank next to the Harvard Coop came to wake up the other unhoused neighbors who had yet to vacate the area. One gentleman, a pillar of Harvard Square who never takes help when offered, woke and began to pack up, but the other, a gentleman to whom I had just given a warm meal at the shelter a few nights prior, didn’t even flinch when his boot was kicked by the guard.
Disturbed that the guard was kicking this sleeping man, I walked towards the scene and commented that it was not “okay” to kick someone. “He’s not moving,” the guard said. My friend, Jonathan, one half of the couple, ran over and tried to feel for a pulse. He let out a visceral sound of fright and walked away quickly. “There’s no pulse … there’s no pulse,” he mumbled as he paced. I got closer and heard the guard on his phone with 911. “I’m not touching that guy,” he said. I felt a momentary sadness wash over me … how dare he say that? The HPR reached out to Allied Universal, the security company used by the bank, for comment, but did not receive a response.
Having just been CPR trained three weeks before for my new role as a volunteer Overnight Supervisor at HSHS, I knew I had to do something: “Give me your phone. I’ll help him.”
“Do you know how to do chest compressions?” the dispatch asked.
“Yes.”
“Is he on his back?”
“No.”
“Okay, turn him.”
And when I turned him so his back was flat on the ground, I saw his face.
I’ll never forget his face. It was blue — it was frozen in time — he was gone.
I consoled those around me, and they consoled me, too. The woman in the couple I was photographing, Jillian, told me that his body was the 36th dead body she had seen in her eight years on the street. And, it made me think how easily that could have been me, because six years ago, I was homeless and an alcoholic/addict lost in my own world of pain. It could have been me on the street, laying there for hours, with no one even noticing that I wasn’t breathing.
And what made this terrible situation and loss of life even more heartbreaking is that no one knew who he was. He had no ID. No one in the unhoused community could give me more than a name they thought he had told them: Michael. He was technically a John Doe, though. How could I mourn the loss of a man I didn’t really know? But how could I live with myself if I didn’t try to honor his life in some way?
I had to figure out who he was so we could give him a proper send-off. He was our neighbor after all. I wish I had a proper photo of him to show the world so that someone somewhere who is missing their family member or their friend would know what happened to him. Days, weeks, and then months went by and no one has been able to identify his body. But, the Harvard Square Business Association offered support and resources, and together we were able to put up a tribute to his memory in front of the bank — across the street from my school — where I found him. A wreath, some candles, and a poem I wrote.
That poem, which hangs from the tree in front of Bank of America in the square, reads:
There you slept — many times before.
So peaceful you lay by the unopened door.
The day you were found — we could not wake you from that sleep.
In a dream forever now, is where you shall keep.
Your soul, your light — not forgotten by us here.
Forever in our hearts your memory shall stay dear.
Michael, our neighbor and our new friend.
We pray you found peace and light at the end.
Rest In Peace.
I truly didn’t think I was going to be able to finish that photo essay. I kept seeing his face every time I closed my eyes. Those ten words kept repeating in my head: “I found a man dead in front of my school.” And I just felt so sorry for him. And, honestly, at times, I didn’t think I was going to be able to finish the fall semester at all after that shock. But with the kind words of great friends, extremely caring professors, and the continued clarity brought on by my steadfast commitment to sobriety, I was able to continue on. I turned my pain into purpose, and that purpose was to stay focused, continue to help others, and honor this man’s life by continuing to live mine to the fullest.
It enrages me that literally across the street from the richest college in the world, people are dying on the street. There are a lot of good people in this town, though, trying their hardest to make a difference and to help others. But those in power, the community leaders, and the school could be doing so much more.
This is why we keep doing what we do at shelters (such as HSHS and Y2Y), local food banks, and various service organizations affiliated with the Phillips Brooks House Association across the city: to try to avoid this unnecessary and incredibly sad loss of life.
You might be asking, “What can I do?” There are many ways that everyone reading this can help. If you are a current Harvard student, stop by PBHA and sign up to volunteer at the shelter or with the nightly street outreach team. If you are a Harvard alumnus or a friend of the university, donate to boots-on-the-ground Harvard organizations making a difference in the lives of our unhoused neighbors. And, if you are a Harvard administrator or someone holding the checkbook of that big Harvard endowment, think about investing some of that money into affordable housing or transitional housing. Ask the students who run HSHS or Y2Y how they would spend a tiny fraction of that endowment to help their clients, and then give them the money to do so.
We’ve gotta do better, Harvard.
To everyone out there, on the streets, in a dorm room, or at home, reading this: Please take care of yourself and your community. We are all in this together.
A vision emerges unbidden, seemingly delivered not from inside the mind, but from outside, as though from the gods, or the God, arriving through some superhuman or supernatural force, an offering to the inner eye. In 12th century Germany, Hildegard of Bingen, mystic, writer, composer, philosopher, began having visions when she was three years old. In “And Again I Heard the Stars” (Spuyten Devil), a pulsing and sensual debut poetry collection, Somerville-based poet Christie Towers intertwines with Hildegard, bringing language from Hildegard’s visions into the poems, conjuring something alive and new. These are poems of, above all, wanting, of desire and yearning, and the flames that define the feeling, sometimes smoldering warm and low, sometimes burning bright and hot: “provoked swollen or intensified red / luminosity a strong feeling a quickening / arousal a source of illumination.” Towers’s lines are grounded in “a body entire,” and she treads the thread between the flesh, its heated presence, and the ecstatic, the joining — or the desire to join — with something or someone outside yourself. “I speak as one / in doubt taught inwardly great / secrets,” Towers writes. There is an abiding not-knowing, a sense of question, and “the restraint of flesh / this burning perversity.” Towers wonders what arises from the heat of not having, not knowing, and her answers are powerfully erotic, charged with the touch of feathers and stars. Towers will read from her work, with poet Aly Pierce, this Wednesday, July 27 at 7 pm at Porter Square Books in Cambridge.
The book business in Boston is booming. Harvard Book Store, the mighty independent bookstore in Cambridge, now joins the ranks of area bookstores opening second locations in Boston. In the spring of 2023, the bookstore will open an outpost in the Prudential Center, taking over what was once a Barnes & Noble. It’ll occupy nearly 30,000 square feet, a massive space, especially compared to the 5500 square foot Cambridge location. “In the simplest terms,” says Chief Creative Officer Alex Meriwether, “we’ll have more space to do things we’re excited about.” That includes an expanded events program, a much bigger children’s book section, and a number of community spaces. The expansion is due in part to the bookstore’s recent partnership with John and Linda Henry, owners of Liverpool FC, the Red Sox, and this newspaper. Meriwether is excited about giving the space its own character. “It’s going to have our philosophy on what kinds of books we display,” he says. The difference is “it’s not going to be an academic bookstore in an academic community,” and he, and the rest of the bookstore team, are looking forward to “learning who this community is and working to make this a special store for them” while retaining “a sense of who Harvard Book Store is as well.”
Construction is expected to begin this summer at the Harvard Square “pit,” the round gathering space near the Harvard Square MBTA station that’s been a hangout since its opening in the 1980s. Originally intended as a place for street artists to perform, the pit is being demolished and turned into a plaza. Permits are still being reviewed and construction — once it begins — will last for about 18 months, according to a spokesperson for the City of Cambridge.
“The vision for the re-designed Harvard Square plaza and kiosk is one that furthers its spirit of social and civic interaction and inclusivity by making it accessible to all visitors,” Assistant City Manager Iram Farooq said in a statement. “This crossroads is one of the busiest in Cambridge, and serves as a social, civic, and democratic hub, not just for Cambridge, but for the nation. The redesign and reconstruction will bring the space up to ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) standards, making it welcoming to all visitors, including persons with disabilities who use wheelchairs or use other mobility devices.”
The Harvard Square kiosk and plaza will be “flexible, dynamic, and welcoming community assets,” acting as platforms for “community gatherings, including civic, artistic, and social activities,” according to a report from the city of Cambridge. There will be informal public seating for gatherings, and the kiosk will feature a visitor information center.
On June 25, the city of Cambridge and others held an event called Pit-A-Palooza, celebrating the life of the public space and what it meant to the people who used to congregate there.
We would like to know whether you have any special memories of the pit. What does it mean to you? How do you feel about its conversion into a plaza? What performances did you see there? Share your thoughts with us in the form below, or send us an e-mail at community@boston.com. Your response may be used in an upcoming Boston.com article and/or its social media channels.
