Posted by Anita on 07.02.06 9:17 AM
On the advice of some friends from MouthfulsFood, we made the trek over to the Somerville/Cambridge border for dinner at East Coast Grill and Raw Bar.
Two minor quibbles: First, it's difficult to get to without a car — the nearest T stop is about 3/4 of a mile away, and when it's 90° and 90% humidity, you will feel every one of those 3,960 feet. The other downside is that the place is practically legendary for having lines out the door, but still they manage to have no room to wait in the bar. Those two things — and those alone — are the only barriers between this place and restaurant perfection.
We loved the great white-wine sangria, justifiably famous tuna tacos and "wet bone" ribs; other barbecue items aren't nearly as impressive. The meat in my brisket sandwich was a touch dry, and the sauce was too-sweet and unremarkable. The wet bones have a slightly Asian taste to them, and are much, much better. We were told that the striped bass was a must-order dish if it was available. It was, and it was!
I thought the prices were really a good value for the quality. The decor is a little 80s-dated — Nagel called, and he wants his wall sconces back — but the atmosphere is so funky and friendly that you can't help but be won over.
East Coast Grill and Raw Bar
1271 Cambridge Street
Cambridge, MA 02139
617.491.6568
Boston, food boards, restaurants, travel
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Posted by Anita on 07.01.06 9:09 AM
A bit of backstory: Cameron and I went to Mamma Maria on our first serious date, 10 years ago. We've eaten there a few times over the years, and found the food to be as good as we remembered. But, after eating here last month for our 10th anniversary, I have to say that this place seems to have taken a serious turn for the worse.
All of the food was at least a level below the quality you'd expect for the price. In particular, my lobster ravioli were terrible: the pasta was pasty and gluey, the filling was badly seasoned, and the size of them made them feel more like empanadas than anything italian — too huge by an order of magnitude.
The service was utterly terrible: Our waiter ignored us for part of the meal, brought Cameron the wrong glass of wine (and then sneered at us when we pointed out his error, insinuating that we couldn't tell one wine from another by taste alone), and didn't do anything at all other than take our order and bring our food — at this level, the server should be an active part of making the dining experience pleasant, which he certainly was not.
We left without ordering dessert, sad to see such a sentimental favorite fall so far.
Mamma Maria
3 North Square
Boston, MA 02113
617.523.0077
Boston, restaurants, travel
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Posted by Anita on 06.30.06 9:03 PM
Greetings from Boston, where it's so freaking hot that we're barely hungry at all… I'm not usually a guided-tour type of girl, but Cameron and I had a great time on Michele Topor's North End Market Tour. The price — $48 for adults — was perhaps a bit high for a 3-hour tour, but our guide took us to a great selection of Italian-american food shops, arranging for tastes of their specialties along the way, and pointing out historic and non-food neighborhood sights in just the right proportion. At the end of the walk, he handed out a list of all the places we'd visited, with addresses and a map, as well as a sheet with North End restaurant recommendations.
North End Market Tours
6 Charter Street
Boston,MA 02113
617.523.6032
Boston, shopping, travel
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Posted by Anita on 06.29.06 9:39 AM
We’ve talked about going to Chanterelle for years, ever since we bought David Waltuck’s Staff Meals cookbook and fell in love. Anyone who cooks this well for their own employees, we reasoned, must do truly amazing things for their diners.
We’ve been to NYC a few times over the years, but something always conspired to keep us from visiting Chanterelle. We were determined that this time, we’d go. And so, exactly a month before our arrival, I called and made a reservation.
And now we’re here. Since it’s about a gillion degrees outside — and probably a gillion and twenty in the subway — we sprung for taxi from the flat we’re renting with family, determined to arrive relaxed and cool. The driver dropped us at the corner, and we spent a few puzzled minutes trying to find the place. Surely it couldn’t be the unmarked place over there that looks like a gay banker’s boudoir?
But, indeed it is. The atmosphere is odd — the gauzy balloon shades covering the windows look like they haven’t gotten an update since the place opened in the 80s, and the wide-open room seems sparse, not elegant. No banquettes or booths… just a few tables, overly fragrant floral arrangements, acres of plush carpet, and deathly silence. Very much the old-school stuffy French restaurant vibe: I kept expecting John Belushi to pop up and ask “how much for your weemin? how much for the leetle girl?”
We opted for the tasting menu and wine pairings. I’ll try to find the copy of the menu that they gave us — unrequested, I might add — and report back. At the moment, though, nothing really stands out about the food, other than that the foie gras course was appropriately sized (unlike the usual trying-too-hard gigantic slabs that ruin your appetite for the rest of the meal), the cheese trolley selections were impressive, and the basil souffle for dessert was very strange. Service was good overall, with a few glitches: More than once, our wines didn’t make it to the table before the course they were supposed to accompany; we got served the same wine twice — once with the foie and once with dessert — by mistake; and we kept getting handed from server to server when our main waiter would disappear.
In short, it just wasn’t quite the impressive experience you’d expect at these high prices. And high prices they are: We spent almost $600 for two, after tax and tip. Nothing was bad, almost everything was quite good, but nothing was amazing, stunning, or otherwise impressive. And frankly, I’d rather have three $200 meals — or two trips to the French Laundry — than eat here again.
Chanterelle
2 Harrison Street
New York, NY 10013
212.966.6960
cookbooks, NYC, restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 06.04.06 9:52 AM
Where, oh where, to begin?
We arrived at Quince — one of SF’s newish hot tables — a few minutes before our 8pm reservation, and were asked to wait… in the doorway. The hostess apologized multiple times (to the point where I finally told her to stop) and brought us a wine list. But still, we’re standing in the doorway — there’s no bar, no waiting area, not even a chair to perch on. We ended up getting seated about 15 minutes after 8, and summarily ignored by our server for another 10 minutes. Adding to all the fun, we were seated millimeters away from a boistrous table of two couples in their late 40s, bragging about their European second homes and the new-college-grad offspring they were intent upon supporting because “there’s no need to torture them” with hourly-wage work. (roll eyes)
The food was… well, not up to the hype. There were a lot of pristine ingredients, and a lot of pretty plating techniques, but not a whole lot of interesting tastes happening.
First courses: The asparagus and deep-fried egg starter was lovely, but nothing that anyone with access to good produce couldn’t accomplish at home. And frankly, it needed salt. Cameron’s pig-foot salad was more like two mini crabcakes with a garnish of leaves around the band of the plate — it had nothing of the lip-smacking, porky, gelatinous beauty of the trotter about it, and the sauce was underwhelming. (And no, I don’t mean “subtle”.) And, I’m sorry — I appreciate the idea of variations on a theme — but something described as a “salad” on the menu should have some vegetable matter on the plate other than parsley.
Pasta course: My spaghetti amatriciana was my favorite part of the dinner, but it was so sloppily presented — especially compared to our first courses and other plates I’d seen go by — that I couldn’t help but wonder how it got smacked into the bowl. Served on a lukewarm plate, slightly undercooked and tepid spaghetti was topped with a lovely sauce of tomato, guanciale and red peppers… it made me want nothing more than a real bowl full of it, with a side of bread and a big jug of chianti. Cameron’s papardelle with quail was also too al dente, and oversalted to the point of being practically inedible (and we love salt, trust me).
For my main, I had a hard time choosing something that sounded appealing. There were no pork options, and no beef, either. Not wanting to wimp out and order the chicken, and not liking the sound of any of the seafood, I opted for the rack of veal. It arrived pre-sliced (arrrrgh!), slopped onto the plate looking like someone’s leftovers, and garnished with one raggedy bone from the rack! And, once again, cold plate, lukewarm food. It was also noticably -under- salted, just like my appetizer. (Can’t someone figure out how to season back there??) The accompanying potato “gratinata” was closer to the mark, but rather grainy and chalky. Cameron’s sweetbreads were overdone, and nothing to write home about.
By the time we got to dessert, there was a pileup of people waiting to be seated, at least a dozen people crammed into the doorway and hovering over the short glass partition in front of our table. Some of them had been waiting for 30-45 minutes by the time they took their seats, and were visibly peeved. Making people wait? OK. Making people wait without a place to sit or stay out of the way? Possible…but borderline. Making people wait for 45 minutes without a place to sit at a high-end place? Unforgivable!
Oh, and did I mention that it’s SO LOUD in there that we literally couldn’t hear one another across a very small two-top?
Not really satisfied by our dinners, we glanced at the dessert menu. I opted for the meyer lemon tartlet with raspberries, and my husband ordered the profiteroles. My dessert looked lovely, but featured an inedibly bitter and burnt crust, amatuerish lemon curd, and disgustigly underripe berries. (I spit out the first bite into my napkin, and nobody ever asked me if anything was amiss.) Cameron’s profiteroles came with a layered terrine slice of three gelati — a delightful cacao-nib flavor and two other forgettable riffs on chocolate. Unfortunately, the profiteroles themselves were no great shakes, and the cherries were so flacid that they weren’t worth eating.
Service was bizarre, starting with the hyper-apologetic hostess, and continuing through the nervous-tic rearranging of glasses and silver by the manager (stop touching my tableware!), and our server’s spokesmodel-like flourishes when presenting wine bottles for approval.
Price for all this was $320 (including tax and tip) for 4 courses, plus 2 stems of prosecco, a half bottle of french Rose and another half of Merry Edwards Pinot Noir.
The food was generally tasty, and the level of execution would have been fine — even remarkable — at a neighborhood restaurant. But at these prices, food should be uniformly lovely, interestingly prepared, and properly seasoned. We definitely won’t be going back for another round.
Quince
1701 Octavia Street
San Francisco, CA 94123
415.775.8500
restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 05.02.06 10:35 AM
Always on the prowl for better breakfast, we tried out Ann’s Doughtnut Sandwich Shop for breakfast last weekend (based on a postive review on Yelp), and.. wow… I mean, I never though I would get nostalgic for the mediocre eats at Al’s Cafe Good Food.
First of all, service was surly. We were grunted to a table, and had threadbare menus shoved at us. Actually, make that ‘menu’, singular — did the waiter really want us to share? Uh, yeah. Sorry, I don’t read upside-down in the morning. After trying unsuccessfully to get the waiter’s attention, we got up and got a second menu off the counter.
Then we tried to order, only to find out that they don’t make poached eggs?? WTF!? I thought this was a coffee shop. Given the choice of scrambled or over-easy, I went with scrambled. No English muffins or sourdough, either — you’ll take white or wheat …and *like* it.
We were practically the only people in the place, but for some reason our food took forever to come. When it finally materialized, it looked like a dog’s breakfast. The hashbrowns were cooked in nasty artificial-tasting griddle grease, and were totally pale, cold, and underdone. The eggs, on the other hand, were rubbery and over cooked. I don’t expect much from diner corned-beef hash from a can, but it should at least be heated through and preferably a little crispy (this was neither). Oh, and as for my toast? Nasty bread with cheap margarine. (–shudder–)
While we were attempting to eat, a guy came in and sat at the counter, and asked for eggs with three slices of bacon, instead of the two slices listed on the menu.
Waiter: “No, it comes with two.”
Customer: “Well, I’d like three.”
Waiter: “No!”
Customer: “What do you mean, “No!”? I’ll pay for it!”
Waiter: “Get out of here!”
(customer gets up, slams menu on the counter, and leaves)
Waiter: “And DON’T COME BACK!”
I felt sick most of the day after eating here. I can put up with mediocre food, as long as it’s made with love. But this meal was obviously made with an extra helping of contempt.
Ann’s Doughtnut Sandwich Shop
4488 Mission Street
San Francisco, CA 94112
415.334.1761
breakfast, restaurants
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Posted by Anita on 04.24.06 4:41 PM
In honor of spring finally springing in my hometown, and also Arbor Day (April 28) and Green Day (no, not the band — Japan’s Midori no hi, April 29), let’s investigate all manner of green soups.
Here are a few I came up with, off the top of my head:
– cucumber gazpacho
– new mexico green chile soup
– avocado soup
– pea soup (fresh spring peas or split peas)
– posole verde
– cream of asparagus
– fava bean & artichoke
– herb soups like sorrel, watercress, etc.
– cream of spinach or broccoli
You could even do a chilled melon dessert soup.
But, in the end, I decided to make my friend Jan’s Creamy
Pea, Lettuce & Leek Soup with Lemon Crème Fraiche and Chive Oil.
Not only did I forget to take a photo, but neither did anyone at the Seattle party where this soup made its debut… so I can’t even poach one! Trust me, it was gorgeous. I’m so glad I was making it for a dinner party, or I might not have bothered with the creme fraiche or the chive oil — and they definitely made the dish much better.
cooking, recipes, Seattle, Soup o' the Fortnight
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Posted by Anita on 04.22.06 1:44 PM
I started out canning just to see how it was done, mostly dill pickles and pickled beets, and the occasional fruit preserve. Then I started pickling and preserving a few batches of produce from my friends’ gardens, as a way of helping them cope with overabundance — 2 years ago, in Seattle, it was a huge batch of brandied plums, and a batch of pickled serranos and carrots.
Last year was a tough year, as we were moving long distance from Seattle to SF, and living in a furnished apartment without access to our own kitchen gear. I did manage a very small batch of tomato-bourbon jam, and my first batch of nocino (green walnut liqueur).
Now I’m hooked: I preserve at home now mostly to get flavors I can’t get from retail products. And a lot of what I preserve ends up being holiday presents and hostess gifts.
I just took a marmalade class this past weekend with June Taylor, a local preserving maven — unfortunately, the citrus season is almost spent, but I may put up a batch of something simple, just so I don’t forget what I learned.
And we’re about to plant a bunch of fruit-bearing trees and plants with the express intention of preserving and infusing. It was fun coming up with all kinds of different plants, from trees to shrubs to vines to groundcover, that will give us something to eat. Most of our yard will be edible in one form or another.
As far as books go, I like Georgeanne Brennan’s The Glass Pantry, which you can get used online for about $2, and Linda Amendt’s Blue Ribbon Preserves. I just recently purchased Putting Food By, which many consider the bible of preserving, but I found the authors’ writing style horrifically pedantic… it set my teeth on edge and I slogged my way through it wondering what people see in this book. It is remarkably complete, so if you need a recipe for somethings really specific and unusual, it may be the only way to go (as ad-libbing in preserving is a definite no-no — you really want an expert to have sussed out all the biohazard stuff, and changing from one fruit or vegetable to another can throw that all out of whack).
cookbooks, drinks, preserving & infusing, recipes, Seattle
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Posted by Anita on 04.06.06 4:36 PM
In honor of Passover, I decided to make the Russ & Daughters Mushroom-Barley soup from the NYT Jewish Cookbook.
(Yes, it’s shown with a decidely un-Jewish grilled bacon-and-cheese sandwich.)
If I made this soup again, I think I would use a LOT less barley than the recipe calls for. I kept adding more and more liquid, and still it was a bit too much like porridge. I finally gave up — realizing I was going to throw the balance off even more. And it needed a LOT more salt than called for.
cookbooks, cooking, Soup o' the Fortnight
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Posted by Anita on 03.31.06 4:33 PM
I made the Cream of Cailiflower and Stilton Soup from Epicurious, replacing the stilton with Irish blue cheese. (I had found other Irish cauliflower-cheese soups elsewhere, but they didn’t sound as good.)
We served it with corned beef sandwiches.
It was delicious, and I can’t wait to have the leftovers for lunch!
cooking, recipes, Soup o' the Fortnight
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