manger un morceau -- boston meals big and small

catching up in allston

the place: deep ellum, 447 cambridge st, allston
the date: thursday, 05.07.09
the plan: dinner

d and I always say we’re going to have dinner. but I’m super busy and he has a tendency to double-book, so I wasn’t sure this plan was going to happen. however, right after work I found myself heading to deep ellum and there he was, right on time, standing outside. it was a nice evening, but it looked like rain was on the way, so we grabbed a table inside and began catching up over food and drink.

drinks, of course: the bartenders at deep ellum mostly all know how to make mojitos, but every once in awhile when I’ve ordered them there, I’ve gotten a mint julep instead. and given my recent reminder that I don’t really like mint juleps, I didn’t want to risk it. so I went with the unexciting cranberry-lime rickey. it was tart and didn’t taste much of booze, but it was also refreshing and light. and, after three, I was ready for bed nice and early, which was an unexpected but perfect result.

the main event: my relationship with the food at deep ellum has been sort of up-and-down. I’ve had great meals there (a memorable brunch) and some terrible ones (an equally memorable brunch) as well as some that were just okay. I am in love with their pretzels and pub mustard, so I figured starting with that was a good bet and I was not wrong. I moved on to the big easy. a very meat-heavy sandwich that was definitely an unusual choice for me, but seemed like what I was in the mood for. it was several types of cold-cuts, provolone cheese, and olive spread of some sort. I don’t even like olives and I was completely enamoured. very tasty. I will not lie, by the time I got to the sandwich, I was a bit tipsy, but I think my enjoyment was sincere, even if I couldn’t finish the entire thing.

the conversation with a good friend I don’t see often enough was really the point of the evening, but I also quite enjoyed the food and drink. and I got an excellent loooong night of sleep thanks to the cocktails. well, and also the fact that I couldn’t convince anyone to go dancing with me after dinner, but I’m going to forget about that and just go with the drinks.

happy birthday in spanish

the place: tasca, 1612 comm ave, brighton
the date: monday, 05.04.09
the plan: birthday dinner

tapas always seems like a great idea for a birthday dinner. small, shareable, reasonably priced. but, somehow, every time I’ve been to a tapas birthday dinner, it’s been a disaster. either you leave feeling still hungry or you leave feeling like you overpaid or you leave feeling under-boozed. none of these are good. yet, I can’t avoid the things. so, I have to say that given my trepidations, I was nervous when my friend jb suggested tasca for his birthday. I like tasca, I’ve been there a lot, it being in brighton and all. and they have a great email list with cool deals if you’re into that. which is actually how the entire issue of birthday tapas was rendered moot— tasca was running a three-course prix fixe deal for parties that made reservations (for $16!). so we all ordered that instead of tapas and kept things neat and easy.

drinks, of course: sangria. I was early and started with a glass at the bar. then we had a few pitchers with dinner. red and fruity and very very summer-y despite the dreary weather outside.

to start: potato-spinach soup. which I ordered as the potato soup and desperately confused the waitress. still, after a rocky start, the soup arrived and was great. creamy and not-too-thick, perfectly seasoned, and a nice blend of the two main flavors.

the main event: for my main course, I had the fish option— a white fish, lightly fried, over a cous-cous like starch with a saffron-based sauce. the whole thing matched the summer feel of the sangria, while still feeling hearty enough for the weather. the fish was absolutely perfectly cooked, crisp and light, with a hint of olive oil.

a sweet treat: a duo of chocolate truffles. very rich, topped with a drop of whipped cream and a bit of mint. I ate a bit of the chocolate and then all the cream and it was a nice end to a nice meal.

all in all, there was nothing exceptionally special about the food, but the sangria and the ambience were warming and perfect for a celebratory, chatty evening. as is often the case at tasca, the service left a bit to be desired (it might be the one waitress— I’ve had her a few times and always been unimpressed, but I hear some of the other servers are more attentive), but not problematic enough to put any damper on the evening. perhaps this will help quell my instinctual hesitations about birthday tapas.

back again so soon?

the place: 28 degrees, 1 appleton st, south end
the date: sunday, 05.03.09
the plan: impromptu cocktails

I know. I just implied I wasn’t going to be back at 28 degrees any time soon. but, I was sitting on the couch, catching up on the dvr, kind of casually bored when m called. she and le were at 28 degrees, did I want to join? twenty-five minutes later I hopped out of a cab on appleton street and found them at the bar.

drinks, of course: on friday, I’d tried the new spring rhubarb cocktail, but had been intrigued by the elderflower aviator, so that was my plan for this trip. I was briefly distracted by the frozen belinis since it was apparently “belini sunday,” but stuck with my first instinct. of course, I had plenty of time to be distracted by other options as the bartender made approximately twenty-four drinks before noticing me in my spot four feet away from him. the drink, once I finally got it, was refreshing and sweet and practically perfect. I had another before the night was over.

despite the questionnable service and the guys who felt the need to stand in my personal space for over an hour, I had a reasonably good time. there was a drag show going on and it’s not every day you can say you accidentally ended up a drag show, so at least there’s that. I’m still not impressed with the place, but clearly I am no longer quite so resistant to it.

is that the ghost of michael douglas?

the place: eastern standard, 528 commonwealth ave, kenmore sq.
the date: sunday, 05.03.09
the plan: pre-romcom brunch

the first time cspan ever came to visit me from indiana, it was july and she could not reconcile the idea of new england summer heat + new england lack of central air. I tried to explain that it’s not that hot that long and that all the buildings are very old, but she just stared at me and demanded we go to see a movie. the only things playing were a disney thing and reign of fire. if you’ve never seen reign of fire and you like bad cgi, bad accents, unintentional gay subtext, or weird cults, you’re missing out. that’s not the point here, though. the point is that matthew mcconaughey has a rather central place in our friendship. it’s weird, but it’s a fact. years after that fateful visit, we spent a lot of time walking around our shared apartment whispering “failure to launch,” and we were probably one of twenty-five people who saw fool’s gold opening weekend. so, obvs, we were planning to see ghosts of girlfriends past. especially because we also love bad romcoms (clearly), jennifer garner, and scrooge pastiches. we’ve also learned from experience that the best thing to pair with a movie confection like this is a fancy brunch. this time, cspan picked eastern standard and I was not complaining.

drinks, of course: romcoms require booze, even at 10:30 am. cspan had a harvey wallbanger, I had a pom-75. mmmm…booze in the morning. and coffee. always coffee.

the main event: we were each torn between the quiche and the blueberry corn pancakes, so we just got both and split them. the quiche had peppers and onions, and was deliciously light and just salty enough. the eggs were moist— almost too wet, actually, but just on the right side of the line. it came with a side of lightly dressed greens, which added just the right touch of bitterness. the pancakes, though, I think carried the day. they weren’t really that noticably corn-like, but there was a bit of a different texture. I don’t actually like cooked blueberries, so I tried to avoid them as much as possible, but when I did have them, I enjoyed the sensation of the warm fruit popping in my mouth. the pancakes weren’t overly sweet and while they maybe didn’t melt in my mouth like the best pancakes ever, but it was close.

the only complaint was that the service was not awesome. after the food came, the waitress never came back to offer more coffee or inquire whether we might want another cocktail. I always find that to be the cardinal sin of waiting tables because not only does it annoy me, but if asked, I will almost always have another drink and run up that tab. but to deny me a re-fill on my coffee is a large strike against any brunch spot. coffee is key, here, people. I’ve never had amazing service at es, but I’ve never really noticed it as bad enough to comment on, so I was definitely a bit disappointed. she tried to make up for it when cspan commented pointedly about my empty coffee cup, but it was probably a bit too little, too late. still, that’s certainly not enough to take away from the delicious food and the fantastic atmosphere— I always like the space and decor there, but there’s something about brunch in that space that’s just better than average.

win, place, or show, but definitely drink

the place: drink, 348 congress st, fort point
the date: saturday, 05.02.09
the plan: derby party

it is harder than you might think to find a good way to celebrate the kentucky derby in boston. ryan is from kentucky, and I have another good friend from louisville, so I’ve gotten used to celebrating the occasion with bourbon, hats (or talk of hats), arbitrary betting, and when possible, pie that is not called “derby pie” because that’s copyrighted. but this year, no one was throwing a party, so we had to find a bar. and the first place that we came across on the internets was drink. I’d been wanting to try the new bar with the “no menu/tell us how you feel” gimick anyway and this seemed like as good a reason as any. plus, they definitely seemed the kind of place that would know it’s bourbon. so, for $40, we got 3 drinks, apps, a souvenir glass, and the chance to look at ladies in funny hats.

in case you were unaware, there’s a very large sign outside the sportello/drink complex announcing that you are entering the rareified air of barbara lynch. I mean, I like her stuff, I do. and she just deservedly won a fancy award and I like the move into fort point. but really? the celebrity chef thing taken to the point of advertising yourself outside your restaurants seems somewhat off-putting to me. so, that complaint aside, let’s move on. there’s no sign for drink, just a small placard at the entrance to sportello, which seemed a bit irritating at the time, but which I’ve subsequently decided is actually enjoyably speak-easyish. the bar is in the basement and they don’t try to hide it. the bars are wide and wooden, the entire thing reminiscent of a high school chem lab that someone turned into an awesome bar. it’s a cool theme that doesn’t seem overly theme-y, if that makes any sense?

we were greeted at the door by a manager (who I swear I know from somewhere, but never followed up to find out) wearing a fantastic seabiscut-esque derby outfit who explained the party set-up. there were three drink stations— old fashioneds, mint juleps, and horse’s necks. we each recieved a gorgeous drink ticket for one of each and a souvenir julep glass commemorating a previous derby. those glasses can be hard to track down, so it was clear from the get-go that they had put in some effort. because we had come directly from an afternoon showing of wolverine (yes, we wore our derby finery to watch hugh jackman tear things up with his claws. let me tell you that the outfite that can go from a matinee of a summer blockbuster to a classy derby party and fit in at both does not exist) we were early and grabbed a seat at the old-fashioned station next to an older gentleman who chatted with ryan about bourbon.

drinks, of course: the bartender was as jauntily decked-out as the manager was pleasantly cheerful. he was chipping his ice off a large block which apparently is brought in from a pond in the ‘burbs somewhere. it was an interesting story at the time, I swear, but I’ve forgotten the details now. I am not usually a drinker of bourbon and whiskey, especially not as close-to-straight as it comes in an old-fashioned, but I will not lie, I was very very taken with that drink. I was surprised that it was my favorite of the evening. the ice waters it down just barely over the course of the sipping, the sugar and the bitters add a touch of flavor and the whiskey was incredibly smooth. next we got the horse’s neck and I’ve never turned my nose up at whiskey and ginger, so this combo of bourbon, gingerale, and lemon was well-recieved. my secret derby shame, of course, is that I don’t like mint juleps. I want to like them, I do. they look like a grown-up boozy snow cone. they have mint and sugar. but. I just can’t enjoy them. I forced my way through half of it, then added in some water and really pressed the mint in and managed to actually find the last half of the drink pleasant. still, I was happy to let ryan drink most of mine.

to start: hors d’oeurves were part of the price of admission and everything I ate was great. I’m not sure that drink actually has food service normally, but wherever the food came from, I was happy to sample it all. fried pickles and peanuts boiled with hamhock started off the southern treats. the pickles were sliced a bit too thin and so tasted greasy and bready— ryan swore they weren’t a good example of the fried pickle. the boiled peanuts tasted like ham. I was happy. that’s really all it takes, people. next were mini-ham sandwiches on herbed corn bread. I will not publically admit how many of these I ate, but they were phenom. I want to eat these every day. seriously. what I believe to be shrimp dip (not because of the taste, but the color and the southern-ness) with celery was tasty enough and the last food item delivered to our spot at the bar were pork ribs, which ryan and the others we met over the course of the evening all seemed to enjoy.

overall, I was thoroughly impressed with the bar itself and the event. so many funny hats! though, I really don’t understand why you would go to an event like this and not dress up at least a little. I definitely did not enjoy seeing the jeans-and-t-shirt people lurking among the spring dresses and seersucker jackets. also, while I like the bar-without-a-tv idea for general evening visitation, for a horse race, I would have preferred to see the event, especiall because the sound on the audio feed was less-than-awesome. I would definitely be curious to go back on a regular night and try out the gimmick and also see how the space works for an evening crowd— I couldn’t quite picture what it would look like. I think I can recommend the bar based on the even, but I can definitely recommend any event they put on— they definitely think it out and do it right. two tips for you, though, whether you go on a regular night or for an event— if you’re there for a while, you might want to stand rather than sit on the stools; they were not that comfy. and two, if you’re walking up to the bar, don’t stop on the sidewalk to adjust your outfit in any way because everyone in the bar is looking right at you through the street-level windows. follow that advice and think carefully about how you’re feeling before you head in and you should have a good time at this barbara lynch booze-fest.

is the shuffleboard in the back?

the place: 28 degrees, 1 appleton st, south end
the date: friday, 05.01.09
the plan: pre-show cocktails and apps

it’s not every day that you go to a restaurant (or anywhere, really) that is exactly what you expected it to be in almost every way. 28 degrees is a place I’d never been, but always felt I understood completely. it would be hip. it would be aggressively, almost excessively hip. I’d looked at the website a lot while my ex was designing a website for a now-closed restaurant being opened by a friend of ours that strived to be a similar kind of hip, so of this I was sure. it would have a single-color theme (based on that same website, blue). it would be populated (both customers and employees) by that girl, her boyfriend, her too-drunk on cosmos girlfriends, and all their very gay friends. it would probably be good, but it would definitely not be comfortable. I hadn’t actually been actively avoiding the place, but it had probably been somewhere I’d chosen not to go more than once. but, when m suggested it for drinks and apps before our friend dane’s cabaret showcase, I couldn’t think of a real reason not to go there, so off we went. and, it was everything I had expected. the only difference from what I had imagined, was that I didn’t actually hate it.

drinks, of course: the new spring special drink had just been added to the menu that evening (so new the website hasn’t yet been updated to include it) and honestly, even if I really had disliked the place as much as I expected, I might have been won over by this cocktail. it was mint and soda and lime and vodka and rhubarb simple syrup. if you’ve taken anything from this blog, it’s that I like any variation on anything mojito-like. I also passionately love rhubarb (rhubarb is the only fruit pie I like). so, I was pretty excited. I had two. they were amazing.

to start: since I hadn’t eaten lunch and we had an entire evening of cabaret to get through, apps were definitely key. we split the curried crab cakes with pineapple-scallion salsa type topping and a “chipotle aioli”, the proscuitto-wrapped shrimp, and the fettuccini with ramps, bacon, and parmesan. the crab cakes were great, though I am never going to understand the appeal of the chipotle aioli. it’s on every menu, everywhere and I’ve never tasted it and thought “yes! I understand why this is the new trend.” the shrimp were okay, but ultimately made me think of hot dogs— the flavor was more complex, but the texture was almost identical. m didn’t like them very much at all. but the pasta! the pasta was definitely a surprise— the smoky bacon and the fresh ramps were in a creamy parmesan sauce and the pasta was light and tender and the whole thing just sang of spring. I was impressed.

so, the cocktails were enjoyable and the food was good. but the space gives me a headache. it’s excessively blue and the water theme is somewhat overdone— beyond the screens showing weird beach scenes, they have a panel of water above the bathroom ceiling. the entire thing made me feel a bit like I was at the bar on a cruise ship for hot singles. and the crowd was definitely exactly what I had pictured. oh, and the very sweet, but easily confused and oh-so-tanorexic waiter could have walked out of the imaginary 28 degrees in my head. all of the pieces add up to a place that I still wouldn’t choose to go to, but that I suppose I might stop choosing not to go to. if that makes any sense at all?

not quite appropriately rated

the place: sibling rivalry, 525 tremont st, south end
the date: wednesday, 04.29.09
the plan: post-meeting cocktails

you might be surprised to know that the board meetings of the boston ballet volunteers association can get a little testy from time to time. a lot of delightful ladies, very very committed to serving the ballet, all quite pleasant really. but, from time to time there are the occasional power struggles and disagreements over the way things really should be done. this month’s meeting was actually calmer than they have been of late, but afterwards, I was most definitely in the mood to unwind with a cocktail. or four. it didn’t take much convincing to get m to come with and when she suggested sibling rivalry, I agreed, despite not being a huge fan.

the thing is,sibling rivalry has a cool concept (dueling fraternal chefs!), and a great location (that corner is one of the more perfect spots for a restaurant ever). and I always hear great things about it. but, when I went there, I was kind of disappointed. which, when I actually talk to the people who tell me great things, tends to be a relatively common sentiment. the thing is, there are places you have a bad time at and you never want to go back, and there are places you want to give a second chance and sibling rivalry has always seemed like the second kind of place, so off we went and grabbed two seats at the bar next to a gentleman drinking what appeared to be a very dry martini and reading the new yorker. I started to worry immediately.

drinks, of course: my hesitance about the place was not lessened by the fact that it took our tom-selleck-stached bartender quite some time to bother with us despite not seeming to be that busy. once he finally stopped by, m requested a menu and we both ordered a white cosmo. the cosmo was sweet-tart and, I will admit, made me feel better immediately. as the evening wore on (yes, spoiler alert: it was actually enjoyable), I switched to something I think was called a pom 575 that consisted of pomegranate juice and sparkling wine. mmmm…bubbly and full of anti-oxidants.

to start: I was just there for the cocktails, having prepped myself for the potentially aggressive meeting with a burger and fries earlier, but m needed food. sibling rivalry had apparently extended the restaurant week concept into april, so there was a 3-course meal special. once m confirmed that everything could be ordered a la carte, she chose a salad which I urged because I wanted the fiddleheads that came with it and which she disliked (I wasn’t hungry, but fiddleheads! I knew I wouldn’t have a chance at those again this spring), and the tuna tartare (which looked quite delicious). the bartender then condescedingly went on about several items on the menu involving shellfish (m can’t eat that) and more duck (I don’t like duck). I found the whole spiel irritating, but it somehow convinced m to get a special involving duck (a perogi-esque item, I believe). I still can’t really judge the food as all I ate were the fiddleheads, but they were utterly fantastic— cooked just enough, tender, and peppery— so at least there’s that.

so, early on in the evening, I wasn’t impressed with the clientele or the service. but, after we’d settled in, the bartender suddenly became much friendlier (possibly he overheard m say she wanted to sleep with him?) and even taught us how to make the little lemon curls in our drinks.* also, we had some wonderful chats with the customers that came through — peter dubois, newest artistic director at the huntington came in for a quick drink during intermission of his play at the cyclorama and was beyond fabulous and I’m pretty sure his sheer existance talked me into subscribing to the upcoming season, a lovely older man who chatted about the sox and old-time boston stories, and even new yorker dude proved more interesting than first glance. all-in-all, I’m still not sure my opinion of the restaurant (overrated) has changed very much, but I will definitely have more positive feelings about the place from now on due to a fun night and some decent cocktails.

*(a clever shortcut I’d never heard before— boil the lemon, cut off the ends, hollow it out completely, fold it up in a curl-shape, toothpick it and chill it, then slice to get perfect curls. as the selleck-a-like noted, this doesn’t work when you actually want a lot of lemon flavor due to the boiling, but it definitely works for a simple garnish.)

a little sad there was no stigmata

the place: church, 69 kilmarnock st, the fenway
the date: 04.10.09
the plan: pre-show dinner

after multiple cocktails at eastern standard, ryan and I headed out for dinner. since we were seeing a show (the fantastic sarah borges) at church and I’d been wanting to try the food there, we figured it seemed like a convenient combination. and, it turned out, a tasty one.

drinks, of course: I was perhaps more than a little bit tipsy when we arrived, so I skipped the cocktail which was certainly a strange choice for me, I’m not going to lie— perhaps I have hidden depths of responsibility I don’t even know about. however, I all seven of the cocktails on their deadly sins cocktail menu were tempting even if the “church” theme is maybe a bit heavy-handed at times. for wine, I had a glass of irony pinot noir, which I’d had a bottle of while bitching about exes with cspan once and knew to be good. I do not remember what ryan had. frankly, given the level of intoxication, I’m pretty impressed I remember my own meal.

to start: chances are, if there’s a beet salad on an appetizer menu in this city, I’ve tried it. it’s possible that the beet salad trend is overplayed these days, but, since I love beets like I love candy, I’m not really complaining. church’s version is roasted beets with hazlenut, an herbed feta, and acid from both oranges and a citrus dressing. well done, still absolutely no complaints.

the main event: baked mac and cheese seemed absolutely perfect for the rainy not-yet-spring weather that had started outside on our walk over. I love that they offer it in both small and large portions. the breadcrumb crust was crispy, and the pasta was cheesy— all as advertised. ryan had the special, which definitely involved monkfish wrapped in bacon and was apparently delicious. see? even through my drunken haze, I remember bacon.

the space is really nice and the gothic church theme makes it kind of dark and cozy on a rainy day. it might feel a bit opressive in nicer weather, but they have outdoor seating, so I’m sure that solves that problem. I definitely intend to go back when I’ve had less to drink so I can enjoy the taste of things a bit more, but it was a fun place with good food in an area that doesn’t actually have as much of that as I would like.

one great argument against the embargo

the place: eastern standard, 528 commonwealth ave, kenmore sq.
the date: friday, 04.10.09
the plan: post work cocktails, maybe a snack

work is inexpressably frustrating these days, so practically every evening, I am desperate for a cocktail. so, though dinner and a show were on the agenda for later in the evening, I couldn’t turn down the offer of a drink to fill the hours in between. since I had to be in the fens later, it seemed like a great reason to go to eastern standard, since I hadn’t been there in awhile. the bar was pretty crowded, but there was space outside and though it was drizzling, it wasn’t actually that cold, so we settled in on the patio.

drinks, of course: I generally tell people that eastern standard has the best cocktails in the city. I feel pretty strongly that this is true. they have a great menu that mixes classic and innovative, the ingredients are good, the drinks are well-mixed. still, all of that said? I get the same thing every time: the old cuban. when trying to describe it’s basic essence, I sum it up as a mojito with champagne. which, of course, makes it the perfect drink for me. it’s rum, lime, mint, and champagne and heaven. that last part might not be true, but after one (or three), it certainly feels like it. le had her usual cosmos and seemed pleased, m had some fantastic periodistas, and ryan went with a whiskey smash when he joined us, most likely because it reminded him of his beloved mint julep. everyone was happy.

to start: m wanted a snack and the fact that I had had two drinks and no lunch made me inclined to think that might be a good idea. we went with the calamari and the cheese plate. I honestly didn’t think to note the cheeses (I never do; it’s a problem), but they were all delicious, particularly the soft goat cheese selection. the calamari was cooked to perfection, crisp but not greasy and very flavorful. I feel like calamari is on every menu in the city and is rarely actually enjoyable, but this was really quite good.

after the third cocktail and some spirited attempts to flirt with the older guys sitting next to us (they wouldn’t have it, even when we were cute and witty and offered to lift a chair over our heads for them), we ceded our prime real estate to a group of not-so-nice grown-up frat boy types and headed off for futher adventures. it’s too bad that I remembered how much I like eastern standard right as red sox season is starting and it’s about to become impossible to visit at least half of the nights in a given month.