Tasteblazer

BBQ and Seafood at East Coast Grill

East Coast Grill is consistently ranked as one of the best restaurants in the Northeast, so I had to try it before I left Boston.  I've eaten in Inman Square a few times, but since I don't live in the area and the closest T stop is a 15 to 20 minute walk away, Cambridge Street doesn't usually figure into weekend plans.  But what a shame...with cozy neighborhood restaurants like East Coast Grill, Ole Mexican Grill, Punjabi Dhaba, and Magnolia's within a three-block stretch, Inman is where I'd live if I were to stay in Boston.   At the moment, I'm also immersed in Andrew Dornenburg and Karen Page's Becoming a Chef, and chef/owner Chris Schlessinger is mentioned on practically every other page.  Needless to say, I couldn't wait until my farewell dinner to eat at the restaurant.

We went on Friday, and the hour and a half wait gave us ample time to study the menu and handwritten specials on the outside.  Seafood or barbeque?  I'm a seafood fanatic and always seeking places with with freshest fish, but Schlessinger has co-written 8 books on barbeque and is a noted fanatic on the topic.  I had to incorporate both into my meal.

For the appetizer I forced myself to forgo the raw bar in favor of the "Chile-Crusted Black 'n Blue Tuna Tacos," pan seared tuna with arugula, jimaca, and an orange chipotle glaze.  The tuna skin was perfectly crisp, and the raw inside was velvety and tender. 

As for the barbeque entrees, there's no need to decide between different styles or cuts of meat.  The Uncle Bud's trio platter offers a sampling of Memphis style dry rubbed pork spare ribs, Texas style beef brisket, and Eastern North Carolina style shredded pork.  I wasn't a huge fan of the tanginess of the shredded pork, but the spare ribs and beef brisket were delicious.  Served with corn bread, cole slaw, and watermelon, the platter is one hefty feast.  (And I love the aesthetic effect of steak knife stabbing corn bread.)

I didn't get to try the "WMD...Wings of Mass Destruction...From Hell! Smoked, Jerked, then Grilled & 2Hot4U Real Inner Beauty Sauce, Fried Plaintains & Grilled Pineapple ," but I'm sure I'll be back for them. (This is enthusiastic menu writing at it's best.)  And being the heat-seeker that I am, I may have to return to Boston in October just for the restaurant's Hell Night.

Food alone is not what attracts hoards of locals and tourists alike to East Coast Grill.  The service is impeccable, with attentiveness from waitress, hostess, manager, and busboy alike.  Even the bartender flashed us an "Hope you're enjoying your meal, and by the way I love working here!" smile.  I like observing the workers when I eat out.  Through the course of my meal, waiters passed each other with smiles instead of exasperated looks, busboys strolled by humming to the music, and at the end of the night the manager and hostess shot the breeze over a meal at the bar. 

The positive energy definately transfers to the diners, making the food taste even better.

East Coast Grill - 1271 Cambridge St., Inman Square

Lucca's Mixed Bag

I've lived in Boston long enough to know that you should never go to the North End on a Saturday night without reservations.  But due to construction at the Charles MGH stop, we had to abort our Central Square plans.  We found ourselves meandering the North End amidst throngs of people who shared our hunger pangs.  Favorites on Hanover such as Pomodoro, Daily Catch, and of course Giocomo's already had lines out the door.  We could feel rain droplets from the sky, and decided to find shelter, pronto.  Maybe we would have better luck on the side streets. 

"At least 45 minutes," said Ristorante Euno.

"Two and a half hours," sniffed Antico Forno.

"We may be able to seat you before 11," said the host at Sage.  "Sorry." His voice was soft and his eyes lowered, as though he were turning away a couple of starving orphans. 

The tiny droplets turned into a steady shower, and we found ourselves back on Hanover.  We ducked into Lucca and decided, what the heck. 

"How long is your wait for two people?" I asked, preparing to turn around and walk out the door.

"We have a table downstairs right now, if you don't mind being a little cramped," said the very kind host.  "Take a look first and see if you like it." 

The host led us downstairs to a dining room as big as the one upstairs.  There was a lone two-person table in a sea of big groups, some who were drunk and fairly loud.  But the table wasn't that cramped, and it was available.  Sold.

"And just so you know, a lot of these people are leaving for a U2 concert in half an hour," the host said with a wink before he left.

We took in the decor, Italian and American wine bottles encased behind glass, set amidst mahogoney and exposed granite walls.  But somehow the rustic feeling was lost.  Maybe because the restaurant is huge in comparison with other North End trattorias.  Or because of the raucus yuppies surrounding us.  Or because the waitress took our orders with a condescending tone even though she could pass for a BU student. 

The bread, though not warm, made for good sustanence during the long wait for our appetizer.  (The waiting would be a reoccuring theme throughout the night.)  We split the lasagne ai funghi, a warm potato and mushroom filling in between two small crisps brushed with a sweet balsamic glaze.  The salty/sweet flavors made for an interesting combination. 

Our main entrees took even longer to come, most likely a result of a tiny kitchen serving a large restaurant.  The cider-glazed pork chop, however, was perfectly tender and savory, along with the caramelized onions.  The little pieces of roasted vegetables on the side were crisp, though a few pieces were burnt.  The entree didn't look that big on the plate, but halfway through, I was stuffed.  Still, I had to try my companion's Statler chicken breast with fennel.  Good, but not great.  I took a few more bites of pork chop, leaned back and sighed.

And wouldn't you know, it was the quieter tables that left for the concert.  Our boisterous neighbors were still there, cackling over wine and birthday cake. 

Our haughty waitress finally remerged to hand us our check (we had seen her exactly twice before that moment.)  The food was great, the hosts were great, but is it normal to find the whole experience tainted because of bad table service? 

That was the question that was still on our minds as we wandered out into the post-rain streets, eager to walk off a delicious, hearty meal. 

Lucca - 226 Hanover Street, North End

Opening Night at Eastern Standard

 

All of us who work in and around the Hotel Commonwealth had been awaiting the opening of Eastern Standard for over a month.  Every day, we would see managers, chefs, and other workers shuffle back and forth, planning the restaurant that they hoped would enliven the nightlife of Kenmore Square.  The management team, led by owner Garrett Harker (of No.9 Park, the Butcher Shop and B&G Oysters fame) and general manager Gwen Butler, was what the local media was calling "a powerhouse."  An early peak inside confirmed that the large interior was swanky in a 1920s-Parisian-bistro kind of way.  And if the catered food at the recent Improper Bostonian party at the hotel was any indication, executive chef Jamie Bissonette (ex.-Pigalle and Tremont 647) was leading a not-too-shabby culinary team.

"Come by opening night and support us!" said Garrett on more than one occasion.  "It won't be busy at all."  His modest sentiments were echoed by the rest of the management staff.  My boss Caroline believed them and didn't make a reservation.

By the time our group of six arrived at 9pm, the restaurant was already packed, as I had suspected.  The wait would have been almost an hour if Garrett hadn't strolled over, as tall and charming as ever.   He promised to work some magic, and sent the bar manager over with cocktails while we waited.  A few minutes later Gwen sashayed over (and she epitomizes that verb) in a fantastic kelly green cocktail dress, and led us to our table.  Front and center, near the windows. 

I'm not used to special treatment at restaurants, so it's nice for a change.

We had all studied the menu for weeks in anticipation, debating what to order.  There were three different types of oysters, so I tried the Massachusetts variety that were naturally salty and tangy (I forget the name.)  Bone marrow was something I never tried before, and ordered that as well.  It was a bone of a cow leg boiled so long that the insides were soft enough to be spreadable.  What was it like?  Lumpy, a bit slimy, and not unlike the fatty parts of beef.  The steak tartare was a bit rough, though it came with truly amazing fries.

The managers and waitstaff all raved about the roasted chicken stuffed with foie gras, but I thought the chicken was too salty.  And ethical debates aside, having foie gras stuffed in chicken seems like the wrong way to use it.  If a restaurant were to serve it, it should stand alone, since the whole point is the texture.  I didn't try the salmon, but apparently it had improved since the test runs because the kitchen used far less butter.

We were all eating at that point except Leah, who owns Jean Therapy.  She was doing side-by-side hamburger comparisons with one of her employees, and there were some clear size differences. 

"This is the world's smallest patty on the world's biggest bun!" she exclaimed.  She sent it back, and while she waited, received a plate of salt cod fritters with those amazing fries as a token of apology.  I had a taste and they were the best fish and chips I've ever had.  It's ironic that the best dish of the night was the free one.

Jamie came out to personally hand over the redone burger and apologized.  Leah teased him and was satisfied. 

A restaurant needs at least a few weeks before it can be subject to a fair review.  (Not that I review restaurants, per se.  I just write about my experiences.)  But its opening night, despite a few kinks, was very enjoyable.  It has great atmosphere, great people, great food.  And the cocktails?  Incredible.  I can't wait to be back.

Eastern Standard - 528 Commonwealth Ave., Kenmore Square

The Hot Factor

 A question came up at dinner tonight, before we even got our food, as to why the ethnic restaurants in Boston as a whole don't really serve spicy food.  There's definately a handful of Indian, Thai, and Szechuan places around town that dole out entrees worthy of all those pepper graphics on the menu, but not many.  And I don't even have that high of a tolerance for the spicy stuff...just a medium level is satisfying enough.  (Case in point: at Tex-Mex joints, I toss a few jalapenos on my quesadillas; my friend Matt lines his with rows upon rows of jalapenos like they'e ready for battle.)  Are Boston restaurants really just catering the mild American palette?

I decided to check out Rani Indian Bistro in Coolidge Corner because I had heard it was one of the few places in Boston that served traditional South Indian cuisine.  (The others, Bhindi Bazaar in the Back Bay and Tanjore in Harvard Square, are also owned be Samir Majmudar and his wife.)  "Hyderabad, the "Pearl City of India, is famous for the opulence of its cooking and entertaining," the front of the menu reads.  "Taking elements from both Northern and Southern India, the Hyderabad style is a regal one of slow cooking and contrasts."  Sounded like it was as good a place as any to satisfy a spice lust.

Since beer is often recommended over wine for South Asian cooking, I ordered an Indian Kingfisher, recommended by a companion as "the most popular drink of choice in India."  We ordered the garlic naan as one of the appetizers, which was nicely puffed and topped with cilantro.  The other was the tomato coconut shorba, or soup.  It came with fried wonton-type chips and was delicious even after it cooled to room temperature. 

We tried a couple of the Hyderabadi style curries, those being the restaurant's specials.  The Bhindi ka Salan, fresh okra in a tamarind-based curry, was very good, and very rich and filling for a vegetable dish.  I wasn't, however, a fan of the Hussainey lamb, which was a lamb in a ginger and garlic curry, mostly because the meat was rather tough and dry.  The Kali-mirch ka Murg, chicken in black pepper sauce, was one of the better entrees, although it definately didn't warrant the double-pepper rating, the highest spice-level on the menu.  A tiny bit of kick?  Yes.  Made me dive for the Kingfisher?  No. 

The tandoori chicken was the only non-curry dish I tried.  It was barbequed well and served with a tangy raita yogurt, but not particularly amazing. 

The chicken with green mango, another Hyderabadi curry, was my personal favorite, partly for the sauce, which had a slight sweet and sour taste, and partly for the chicken itself, which came out even more tender than in the other chicken dishes.  If only they could have given the same care to the lamb. 

Honestly, despite the care they took to graphically indicate spiciness on the menus, I couldn't tell the difference by simply tasting the entrees themselves.  Each dish was flavorful in its own way, but virtually nondistinguishable when it came to heat.  (The okra, with one pepper, was just as spicy as the Kali-mirch, which was just a smidgeon hotter than everything else.)  Did the chefs perposely "dumb-down" our entrees because we were a mostly a group of non-Indians?  Is this racial profiling in the culinary sense? 

I would go back for the food, which is still pretty excellent.  And decor and atmosphere (one part romantic bistro, one part funky art gallery.)  But seriously, where can you go to get some tongue-searage in this town?

Rani Indian Bistro - 1353 Beacon St., Brookline

Sushi: The Perfect Post-Hike Lunch

 There are two types of people in this world.  First, there are those who want the best possible sushi, even if it means squeezing into a tiny hole-in-the-wall with no elbow room.  Then there are those who want their sushi in little boats, and other accessories of extravagant sushi houses.

I tend to identify with the former, but after a long hike on Sunday morning, we were too hungry to wait out the long crowds at Oishii in Chestnut Hill.  Instead, my fellow hikers and I and I drove over to Coolidge Corner, where the palatial Fugakyu was bustling with other raw-fish lovers but still had plenty of empty tables.  (How this craving came about I do not know, only that one minute I was communing with the outdoors, the next minute I was thinking I could really use a maki roll.  Mother Nature works in mysterious ways.)

The name may get you dirty looks if you say it too quickly, but it actually means "house of exquisite elegance."  The decor is elaborate almost to a fault.  It was a tad Disney-esque with bamboo everywhere and sushi boats (the only ones I know of in Boston, given our Puritan aesthete, or maybe just lack of space.)  But, as a former fine arts major, I must acknowledge my weakness for ornamentation, especially when it comes to tatami rooms and carved stone benches.  Kitsch can be charming if done right.

Fortunately, the atmosphere isn't Fugakyu's only draw.  The food is surprisingly good.  I'm sure the appetizers and entrees are good, and I'm sure I'll be back for them, but there were too many sushi options to try.  The salmon and tuna nigiri pieces.  The rainbow maki with avocado and spicy mayo topped with raw filets of salmon, tuna, and white fish.  The spider maki with shrimp and spicy mayo.  All were fresh, delicious, and very filling. 

It's easy to stick to a routine when eating at sushi restaurants, at least when it comes to me and whomever I happen to be eating with.  We always order the deluxe maki rolls because of the rich flavors, however unauthentic they are.  And salmon, tuna, and eel pieces, just out of habit.  But what makes sushi not only great but memorable? 

My favorite sushi type is eel, and I've had a lot of great homemade eel pieces in addition to restaurant ones, but the ones we had at Fugakyu were cooked to perfection with just the right amount of crisp at both ends.   

And the lobster maki rolls.  I don't think I have tasted fresher whole lobsters in my life, let alone tiny bits encased in rice and seaweed.   My only complaint is that the roll was much more expensive than the other rolls and at half the serving size (4 pieces.)

Despite what I've heard from some people that Fugakyu is overpriced, I didn't find it to be too much more than at other restaurants in Boston.  Three maki roll orders, and eight sushi pieces for the three of us came out to $21 per person, including tax and tip, and we didn't order from the lunch menu.  The rolls are large, so the amount we ordered could have easily fed four. 

And I think the two types of people would get along just fine here.

Fugaku - 1280 Beacon St., Brookline

Spring to Henrietta's Table

I had wanted to try Henrietta's Table for a while, since it's known for being supportive of local farmers and use all seasonal ingredients.  The website even has interactive Farmer's Cards with pictures and stats.  And the restaurant logo is a smiling pig, at a place that counts pork chops as one of their specialties (I love the undertone of martyrdom.)  Oh, and the food is really good too.

I should have brought along my camera, since this ain't your average country kitchen.  The enormous dining space is tucked inside the Charles Hotel in Harvard Square, with a big open kitchen and rustic bar area that looks like someone's home.  In fact, the entire restaurant is supposed to be reminiscent of a farm house, except the minimalist aesthetic and large format photography lining the walls gives it a hip feel.  This is a restaurant both you and grandma will love.

Sundays through Thursdays the restaurant offers the Henrietta's Table Yard Sale, which is any appetizer, entree, and side dish for $23, or three courses and a side dish for $30. 

Having narrowed the appetizers down to either the Maine crab and corn Chowder and the spinach salad with fresh raspberries, goat cheese, and pecans, I decided to go for the latter, simply because I have a weakness for salads with hearty nuts.   Cumin was an unexpected flavor that coated the pecans, but it blended well with everything else in the salad.

The entree of wild king salmon was poached just right and strawberry compote added a nice spring flavor.  According to the website menu, if I were to go back in the fall when strawberries aren't in season, I would get the salmon with roasted apples and spiced cider instead.  Most likely another delicious flavor combo.

The asparagus side dish was a bad choice because it was over overcooked and still had sand grains in it.  Luckily, all the sides are served family style, so I got to have some of the crisp green beans too. 

Feeling stuffed, I wasn't planning on dessert, but the waiter's description of the Lemon Tart with Hazelnut Crust made it sound too irresistable.  They were very good salespeople, these waiters.  I'm not complaining, though, since the tart was delicious and came with even more fresh raspberries and a vanilla frisee. 

It was difficult to waddle home, but somehow I managed.

Henrietta's Table - 1 Bennett St., Harvard Square

Spreading the Grotto Gospel

Grotto is one of Boston's best-kept dining secrets, mainly because its location on a Beacon Hill side street is desserted after the State House workers go home for the evening.  The tiny restaurant is tucked below street level on Beacon Hill, easily missed until you notice the warm glow of the signage hovering just above knee-level.  Those who are fortunate enough to chance upon it, or hear about it through word-of-mouth, discover an intimate setting for fabulous food.  Inside, Grotto's red walls and seemingly-haphazardly-propped paintings give the appearance of a sophisticated boho apartment, a laid-back and sensuous respite from the tony buttoned-up neighborhood.

Chef/owner Scott Herritt's menu is Italian-inspired bistro menu is full of stews, pastas, and marinated meats, culling bits and pieces from all over Italy, and then some.  Fontina cheese fondue with tenderloin tips.  Crab ravioli with pistachio nuts and saffron.  Semolina crusted trout with bacon gnocchi. Atkins and cholesterol be damned.  As the red walls seem to say, life is too short to forgo a little hedonism.

On to the tasting menu.  The starter I chose was the baby spinach salad with incredibly juicy beets and raspberry vinaigrette.  I’m not normally a salad orderer, unless I feel weighed down by whatever I had the previous day, but this was simply amazing.  Next was the main course, potato gnocchi with braised short ribs, mushrooms, and gorgonzola.  The gnocchi and ribs are cooked so perfectly that they simply melt in your mouth. 

And speaking of melting, for dessert, the piece of melting chocolate cake shared by my neighbor was incredible.   Still, my own dessert was better: a banana bread pudding topped with butter pecan ice cream that puts other bread puddings to shame.

Herritt took time away from his kitchen to come by the table and thank us for coming.  Although the restaurant has been running for roughly a year and a half, it was still fairly empty for such a high-calibur restaurant, even for a Wednesday night.  We had to admit to him that we had only heard about it recently ourselves.

"It's the neighborhood, I guess," he said.  "I've sort of been relying on the devoted food fanatics who come and seek us out." 

We'll spread the word, we promised. 

Grotto - 37 Bowdoin St., Beacon Hill

Oh Baby (Pumpkin)

 Boston’s first and only Afghan restaurant is located in an unassuming building that blends in with the factories and warehouses of its East Cambridge neighborhood.  Once you step inside, however, the giant fireplace, elaborate woven wall hangings, and uber-plush seating will make you feel as though you’re some dignitary’s houseguest.  (Note of interest: The owner’s brother is the current prime minister of Afghanistan.) 

The food has a blend of Indian, Persian, Arabic, and Mediterranean influences, filled with complex but not too overwhelming spices that allow you to linger over each bite, instead of diving straight for the water glass.  The naan/flatbread they bring to the table is fresh from the oven (and you get a great view of the oven from the center of the room) and comes complete with a subtle wood smoke flavor. 

For an appetizer, the five of us shared the aushuk, ravioli with leeks and scallions, also available as an entrees.

The kaddo and banjan challow, a dish of pan-fried baby pumpkin and eggplant topped with yogurt and ground beef, quite possibly one of the best entrees I've ever tasted.  The baby pumpkin (available by itself as an appetizer) is sweetened and blends incredibly well with everything else on the plate.  The seekh kabab, a charbroiled leg of lamb with sauteed eggplant and rice, was plump and delicious and did not leave an aftertaste (a quality my overly sensitive tastebuds hate in bad cuts of lamb.)  The theeka kabob, the prime rib with lentils, was equally great. 

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The dessert menu was limited, so we ordered the spiced vanilla ice cream, which I didn’t really care for.  But which appetizers and entrees this good, I’m willing to overlook the lack of a sweet finishing touch.  Besides, the Cheesecake Factory is right around the corner.

The Helmand - 143 1st St, East Cambridge

 

Chinatown's Penang

 There is no secret that the best restaurant in Chinatown isn’t even Chinese, but Malaysian.  Boston’s many Chinatown restaurants, on a whole, are inferior to those of other major U.S. cities.  However, its one Malaysian establishment (part of a small Northeast cities chain) is prone to induce unstoppable salivating.  Which is why my family has spent countless birthdays, anniversaries, Mother’s Days, and Father’s Days here.

The spacious two-tiered dining room is in a modeled after Malaysia’s huts, which sounds kitschier than it actually is.  The high ceiling and walls are lined with natural wood paneling, and there is an open kitchen were diners can see just how big a fire those woks need. 

There is no simpler and tastier appetizer here than the roti canai, also called an Indian Pancake on the menu.  It is flakier and much lighter than naan, and comes with a delicious yellow curry dip with chunks of chicken.  The chicken and beef satays are always sweet and tender. 

One of the best entrees is the Buddhist Yam Pot, which is a fried but meaty taro shell filed with vegetables and either seafood or chicken (go for the seafood...live a little.)  Likewise, any of the soup casseroles served in a clay pot are great.  The duck in bean curd is another spectacular dish in which the two distinct flavor meld perfectly in your mouth. 

On dishes I don’t like, and there are few:  My mother has a special affinity for fish head, which I will never understand, so she sometimes orders Penang’s version in curry broth.  I also don’t care much for the Hainanese Chicken which is as bland as it is in Chinese restaurants, even with the soy sauce.  The Pad Thai is likewise bland and so oily that you begin to feel your arteries clogging after the first few bites.

The dried curried chicken comes with bone and skin on, and no sauce.  Instead, it is cooked over low heat with a curry glaze, which somehow always results in a slightly bitter taste.  If you’re a curry fan, I suggest just getting more orders of the Roti Canai if only for the dip. 

My only complaint, other than the aforementioned dishes, is the service.  When the restaurant gets busy, the servers tend to rush you and slide the check onto the table as soon as you’re done eating.  Best to go for lunch or a weekday dinner. 

But back to the positives.

A few other recommended dishes are the mango chicken, the sizzling seafood combination platter with scallops, shrimp, and squid, and the fried pearl noodles with shrimp, pork, egg, and sprouts.

None of the dishes are too spicy, but if you want a cool nonalcoholic beverage anyway, the menu has a long list of exotic and nonexotic fruit drinks, and soy, durian, and red bean shakes.  There is even a whole fresh coconut, which I may order the next time I go.  Which, knowing my family, is likely to be very soon.

Penang - 685 Washington St., Chinatown