Saturday, August 2, 2014

Not Your Average Run of the Mill Cuisine at Mill’s Tavern

One expects greatness at Mill’s Tavern, one of Providence’s most revered dining spots located alongside Brown University. Chef Edward Bolus’s thoughtful, innovative approach to his cuisine certainly seems to match the neighborhood’s academic, presitigious vibe. Like Brown’s Ivy League-educated students, Bolus has lofty aspirations for his menu. Take, for instance, his modern, whimsical interpretation of foie gras ($21), the goose liver’s flavors elevated by chocolate ancho shortbread, candied bacon crumble, pickled citrus sorbet, and mango chili leather. Similar to Brown’s rigid admissions criteria, unambitious, unadventurous dining candidates need not apply for this unique dining experience.

Mill’s Tavern is situated in the historic Pilgrim Mills Building. While the restaurants is only 12 years young, its interior, like the food, is sophisticated, resembling a centuries-old tavern with its red brick walls, vaulted casement ceiling, dark woods, and linen tablecloths. If you can, snag a quieter, more romantic table alongside the giant floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking bustling N. Main Street. An elongated bar sits to the left, while a wood burning oven blazes in the open kitchen towards the back.

Oh, and that wood burning oven so happens to produce a mean pizza pie. The wood fired pizza ($18) is served with an herbed citrus ricotta base, arugula, braised duck, balsamic fig glaze, and a sunny side duck egg. The pizza is wonderfully charred, and possesses a fine balance between sweet and tart flavors by way of the fig glaze and ricotta, and whose texture is enhanced by the egg’s creaminess. I stated weeks ago that nearby Bacaro’s wood-fired pie reigned supreme in Providence, but I now stand corrected: Mill’s Tavern’s complex version closely rivals it. Equally memorable was an appetizer of braised littleneck clams ($18) in smoked tomato and Naragansett lager broth packed with grilled chorizo and sweet onions. Our waiter strongly endorsed this dish, suggesting it was a crowd favorite and menu staple since the restaurant’s inception, and he did not steer us wrong. The clams were clean, luscious, and meaty, the chorizo tender and spicy, while the garlic bread served alongside the bowl was quickly used to sop up what proved to be a zesty, comforting, addictive broth.

Entrees were solid, if not nearly as spectacular as the preceding small plates. Less successful was the lemongrass glazed Long Island duck breast ($28). While the duck was featured as one of the eatery’s wood-fired entrees, I barely detected a trace of crackle or smokiness to the meat that one would come to expect. Nor did I find the meat, which admittedly was perfectly cooked medium rare and tender, to be all that well seasoned, as the accompanying mango-papaya salsa’s dry, canned corn-like texture was bland. The plate would have greatly benefitted from a sauce of some sort (perhaps that terrific balsamic fig glaze?). A side of unique yucca tater tots, however, was exceptional, with their crispy exterior and warm, gooey, slightly sweet interior. The finest entrée of the evening was once again a customer favorite/longtime menu staple: the 12 oz. soy-brined pork chop, a cut of meat so massive that it was playfully presented in two strips served upright. A luscious grilled peach compote and peach mustard barbecue sauce demonstrated Bolus’s expertise in utilizing seasonal ingredients, and they wonderfully complimented the tender meat, once again cooked to perfection.

Desserts were a bit uneven. A warmed Veronha chocolate cake ($10) was slightly overcooked. While seasonal sorbet offered refreshing, interesting flavors such as coconut and strawberry hibiscus, other flavors were less successful, such as mango and the excessively icy key lime pie. Things rebounded nicely with the lovely, airy blueberry crumb cake, served with white-chocolate cremeux, yuzu caramel, and crème freche ice cream, which, just like the aforementioned duck pizza, struck just the right balance between sweet and tart.

Mill’s Tavern’s cocktail program ($12) is as sophisticated as its fare. While a coconut mojito and a Just Peachy (orange vodka, peach, cointreau, pineapple and lemon juice) are light and refreshing, more adventurous libations are worth trying. Same Difference was a sweet, smoky blend of blackberry-infused tequila, port, and lime and lemon juice, while She’s a Knockout was just that: an intoxicatingly semi-sweet, sweat-inducing mix of bourbon, Gosling’s rum, Cointreau, lime and pineapple juice, punctuated by bright red habanero bitters. This is a complex, stiff, and well-balanced drink. The establishment’s wine program extends from California to Italy to France. A glass of Belle Glos “Melomi” Pinot Noir ($13) from Central Coast has robust fruit flavors and a smooth, velvety finish, pairing perfectly with that unforgettable duck pizza.

Sadly, however, it’s our mediocre service that prevented us from having a truly great dining experience and that also prohibits me from providing Mill’s Tavern with a ringing endorsement. Service began promisingly enough, with our waiter amicably providing recommendations while demonstrating a deep understanding of the menu selections along with the restaurant’s history. When we ordered our pizza, my wife – who has a dairy allergy - had asked if a slice of the pizza could be prepared without cheese, which our waiter swiftly confirm could be accommodated. After a prolonged period of time that elapsed after our orders were taken, and only moments before our appetizers arrived, he stated that the kitchen cooked the ricotta into the pizza’s base, and that my wife’s request could not in fact be accommodated. The timing was terrible, and after we politely voiced our displeasure, we noticed a dramatic shift in our waiter’s demeanor the rest of the evening. He suddenly seemed unengaged and inattentive. A second round of cocktails were late arriving with nary an apology (aside from our waiter stating that the bar was behind that evening) while cappuccinos were served far ahead of our desserts’ arrival. It’s unfortunate that such a lovely (and yes, expensive) dining experience at Mill’s Tavern could be sabotaged by lackluster service that does not match the quality of its cuisine.

Overall, I’d gladly return to sample several other exciting options on Chef Bolus’s menu (Melon gazpacho? Braised shortribs soaked in Port wine? Yes, please.). It’s the uneven service, however, that gives me pause to venture there anytime soon. While Mills’s Tavern graduates with ease, it fails to do so at the top of its culinary class.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Bacaro Boasts Finest Italian Cuisine in Providence

Take my advice: bypass the Hill (Federal) and head straight to the river to experience the finest Italian cuisine in all of Providence (yes, even exceeding the renowned Al Forno). Tucked away just outside of downtown Providence, adjacent to Brown University along the waterfront, Bacaro offers a treasure-trove of pleasures, from its extensive (admittedly exhaustive – hint: the menu is best enjoyed with larger groups) list of wines, cheeses, meats, and Italian tapas, its relaxed, yet polished service, to its tranquil, romantic al fresco small patio setting.

Sure, there are ties to the aforementioned Al Forno here, namely with its two prominent former employees, Chef Brian Kingsford and co-owner Jennifer Matta. And yes, there is that famous wood grilled pizza, here served up as an appetizer serving 2-4 people (but at Bacaro, it is graciously served with a cheeseless section to accommodate my wife’s dairy allergy – Al Forno pretentiously denied this request years back). But that is where the similarities end. Bacaro’s name originates from the Venetian word Bacari, which signifies a wine bar for friends to father for a quick bite and glass of wine. The restaurant therefore poses as an Enoteca (Italian wine bar), Salumeria (cured meats), and Cicchetteria (Italian tapas). There is also a sense of playful fun at Bacaro – take, for instance, that nifty checkbox menu from which customers can select their tapas! – that is lacking at the stuffier Al Forno. In lieu of Al Forno’s formal, if somewhat slightly outdated ambience that features a romantically lit interior shining over prim white tablecloths, Bacaro is housed inside a converted shipping building. Its first level consists of a bar to the left, a small, boisterous seating area to the right (so much so, that I’d recommend the patio on a nice spring/summer evening), and a lively, deli counter-style salumeria towards the back, where customers can either order or view the preparation of cured meats and cheeses. The second level offers more romantic views of the water and city skyline, along with an open kitchen.

Back to the food, most all of which is wonderful, starting with the razor-thin, nicely charred grilled pizza which is thrown into a wood oven that sends wafts of intense smoky aromas outside to our table. We order a pie topped with caramelized onions and goat cheese ($24), and it quickly evaporates from the plate. It’s sweet, tart, and fantastic, and I dare you to find a superior slice (outside of Al Forno’s) in all of Rhode Island (deepest apologies to you Caserta enthusiasts). We split a pasta entrée of tagliatelle with crab, uni, and lobster broth ($30). While the crab and uni barely register (making the dish a bit pricey for my taste), the pasta itself is the star. It’s fresh and addictive, given the kitchen’s innovative approach to infuse the noodles with the lobster stock. Like the pizza preceding it, the pasta quickly disappears from plain sight. Smaller sides are satisfying, including prosciutto di parma ($7), a generous portion of salt-cured ham that would have benefitted from any accompanying sauce or acid (spicy mustard, balsamic vinegar, honey) to pair with our complimentary bread. An assortment of olives ($6) featured spicy and mild varieties, while wood grilled figs layered with honey were homey, light, and downright delightful to pop into one’s mouth.

The cicchetti were consistently well executed. Starting with richer plates, the pan seared duck breast ($7) served on toasted, buttery brioche with rhubarb jam created salty-sweet harmony, while the crispy glazed pork belly ($7) was pure fatty goodness, from its moist, chewy interior to its crackling, sticky-sweet exterior. Although I could barely distinguish the different flavors amongst a trio of pan seared sausage, ($7), the meat was nicely smoked and tender, nonetheless. The lone misfire of the evening was the wood grilled ‘piatina’ ($7), grilled flatbread with chickpea puree, Jerusalem artichoke chips, smoked capsicum, and crispy parsley. I found the texture of the overly-crispy chips residing atop the crispy flatbread to be both heavy and repetitive, while the puree was bland and whose flavor was slightly offputting. Fortunately, the majority of the cicchetti were big hits at our table, showcased by arancini ($6), miniature breaded and fried risotto balls stuffed with mozzarella, which despite their creamy interior, did not fall into the trappings of most versions. These balls were surprisingly light and oil-free.

Be sure to save room for desserts, many of which are made to order and require customers to order at the beginning of their meals. Bacaro’s version of an ice cream sandwich is anything but traditional. Layered between two homemade chocolate brownies is homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream (here, white, not green, in appearance, and possessing a subtle, non-overpowering mint flavor). The sinful salted chocolate caramel tart ($14) consists of chocolate pastry filled with dulce de leche, topped with dark chocolate filling and sea salt. It’s rich, but not dense, and perfectly balances sweet with salty. Other desserts I wasn’t able to sample, but for which I’d gladly return: grappa scented custard filled bombolini ($10), little warm doughnuts filled with custard and topped with wildflower honey and toasted almonds. For anyone who has ever sampled Chef Kingsford’s wood grilled tarts at Al Forno, the seasonal strawberry and rhubarb (for two - $18) also seems enticing.

Cocktails are well balanced, if not nearly as complex as Bacaro’s cuisine. Housemade sangria is decent enough, although not nearly as tart as I would have liked. There are several Italian inspired cocktails, my favorite being the potent, refreshing Italian bellini martini, which included a splash of peach puree and lots of peach vodka, inspired by and with a nod to the bellinis prepared at Venice’s world-famous Harry’s Bar.

Service was exceptional. Our waiter was highly knowledgeable of the lengthy menu (no doubt an impressive feat), spot on with several recommendations, amiable, and created a leisurely pacing to the meal to accommodate the wide array of tapas that were ordered. Our table truly wished our evening on the patio would never end.

Given its exceptional food, service, and setting, Bacaro ranks amongst the very best restaurants in Rhode Island. It also ranks amongst one of my all-time favorite dining experiences. When a restaurant makes it difficult for you to leave, yet leaves you wanting to return for more, that’s the sign of a truly special dining spot. Outside of Italy, there may not be a better ‘bacari’ to nibble on small bites and sip on fine wine with friends.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

This Empire Truly Strikes Back

Big Night Entertainment Group follows a simply philosophy with its restaurants – go big in both atmosphere and cuisine – or go home. Like Back Bay’s Red Lantern and MGM Grand Foxwood’s Shrine restaurants before it, Empire delivers on both fronts. Conveniently located on South Boston’s Waterfront, this eatery provided one of the most enjoyable dining experiences I’ve had in quite some time. In all honesty, I was struck by how consistently good everything was.

Starting with Empire’s modern, hip ambience. Yes, there’s the obligatory (yet really, really cool) expansive, illuminated bar, complete with light techno music, cushy lounge seating, and scantily clad, affable bartenders who craft potent fruity cocktails. It’s been said that if one looks closely enough, a celebrity or two may be spotted. Yes, there are lots of well-groomed diners either viewing others or waiting to be seen themselves. Empire’s atmosphere also playfully nods to Asia, particularly with its large dining room resembling an open dim sum hall that can likely be seen only blocks away in nearby Chinatown. Several smaller, private dining rooms extend to the back.

The Asian-inspired cuisine is consistently very good, sometimes stellar. Most dishes are thoughtfully served in half portions as well as larger ones, the perfect way to share several tapas-style with groups. Singapore street noodles (bowl is $25 and large enough to feed four; a large bowl is $44) include thin pasta with shrimp, scallops, and pork, along with a Madra curry spice that supplies a welcomed touch of hear. A hot app includes nicely seared chicken & mushroom dumplings (eight piece $12, 16 piece at $22), that possess chewy texture and just the right amount of crunch. Fried starters include a large assortment of Empire tempura vegetables ($15) that feature nicely battered onions, broccoli, and even sweet potato, accompanied by unique white miso aioli and citrus ponzu sauce for dipping pleasure (I prefer the latter for its acidity), along with steamed, slightly salted edamame.

Lobster and crab rangoons (6 piece $16, 12 piece $30) are so beautifully fried and presented that you may not want to bite into them. If you do, however, you’ll be handsomely rewarded by the mixture of meat with cream cheese along with an innovative topping of sweet soy molasses and Chinese plumb sauce, intended to be the restaurant’s riff on traditional duck sauce. My lone complaint: had the server not identified the lobster from the crab, I would have had difficulty differentiating between the flavors of the fish (again, delicious nonetheless). Eight sushi come with the Red Dragon roll ($18), consisting of blue fin tuna, daikon sprouts, sake, and red chili miso that lends the dish its heat. One dish that surprisingly had the entire table fawning over it, wishing we had ordered an entire tureen – was the addictive Bin’s Hot & Sour Soup ($8 individual, $27 for the tureen), which contained mushrooms, tofu, pork broth, white pepper and chili sesame oil – all of which provided the perfect blend of heat, acidity and warm comfort.

Well-prepared cocktails were a nice complement to the wonderful food. A pineapple mai tai for 2 ($24) is nothing more than your traditional beverage, only with lots more liquor and playfully served in a frozen pineapple. For the more adventurous drinker, the rye tai ($14) is a must as well. Lighter drinks also fare well, including the peartini ($14) mixed with pear sake and rum, while the refreshing Coco Dojo ($13) includes coconut, pear sake, pineapple, and soda. A group of four women celebrating their friend’s 50th birthday tackle the rightfully named Big Kahuna ($68), consisting of grey goose punch served in a mammoth watermelon (dry ice makes for an eye-opening presentation) along with watermelon juice, mint and ginger.

Non-traditional desserts are also first rate, including the most popular menu option according to our server, a chocolate macadamia nut tart ($11). What sounds pedestrian proves to be quite the opposite: six miniature slices of dense, buttery chocolate drizzled with brown butter caramel and with sweet chili cooked into the tart to provide subtle bite. Equally decadent are the ethereal, gooey sticky toffee donuts along with a special of fried apricot dumplings paired with creamy raspberry sorbet.

Servers are knowledgeable, gracious, and prompt, while the meal’s methodical pacing across several dishes was pitch-perfect.

Empire delivers exceptional atmosphere, service, and cuisine. I followed Big Night Entertainment Group’s motto to a T, with one exception – I went big (on food), but after such a wonderful dining experience, begrudgingly went home.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Does Mooo ‘Stake’ Its Claim amongst Boston’s best steakhouses?

Located in Beacon Hill adjacent to the XV Hotel, Mooo is a modern steakhouse from restauranteur extraordinaire Jamie Mammano, whose Columbus Group company runs the equally opulent, well-regarded restaurants including Mistral, Sorellina, L’Andana, and its newest arrival – the ultra-extravagent, ultra-expensive seafood-oriented Ostra.

Mooo’s interior, while warm (off-white and beige tones) and sheek (chandeliers framed in large amber shades), possesses all of the traits that make you well aware that you’re dining in a steakhouse (pictures of calves, giant armchairs) and here to consume what else, but steak?

Prices here are as exorbitant as in other steakhouses around town, if not a bit more so. If you’re dining on a budget, however, take advantage of Mooo’s 3-course, $25 prix fixe lunch menu, quite possibly one of the best values in the city.

We start with a nicely seasoned appetizer of steak tartare. The hand-cut beef is thick and meaty, unlike more traditional, thinly-sliced versions I’ve sampled, and can be stacked atop four miniature warmed, grilled pieces of flatbread. My 12 oz. New York sirloin strip is again well-seasoned, but sadly, is dry and a tad overcooked (it is served medium to well, as opposed to medium rare). Fortunately, a nicely balanced, unique, and quite potent cocktail comprised of Liquor 43 (vanilla flavor) and whiskey eases my disappointment, as does a delectable dessert of bananas foster, with the bananas beautifully bruleed that crackle against the creamy vanilla ice cream that is layered with additional banana pieces.

Service was adequate, but a bit unpolished, particularly during an extended lull between the main course and dessert.

Overall, Mooo provides good, if somewhat inconsistent food and service. For the 3-course lunch special, it’s well worth trying. Otherwise, if you’re there to order $45-$60 steaks and demand top-notch cuisine and service, it may not quite be worth ‘moooing’ home about.

Food Lets Out a Rebel Yell at Ribelle

Tim Maslow is not only man of the hour amongst Boston’s culinary landscape– he’s eagerly attempting to re-define it with highly innovative fare rarely seen – or attempted – north of New York City. Maslow, who worked in that same city for several years under the tutelage of superstar chef David Chang at his universally revered Momofuku restaurants (he ultimately became chef de cuisine at Momofuku Ssam Bar), ultimately decided to take both his training and immense talent up north to Watertown, MA. It was there where he decided to miraculously transform his father’s sandwich shop, Strip T’s, into a much-buzzed about dining destination serving fascinating items from razor clams with chili jam, cilantro and sesame to sourdough brioche donuts topped with tarragon.

Now comes Ribelle, Maslow’s own attempt to conquer contemporary Italian cuisine, located in Brookline’s suddenly trendy Washington Square neighborhood (it’s across the street from other popular dining hotspots including Fairsted Kitchen and Barcelona Wine Bar). The restaurant’s name in Italian stands for ‘rebel,’ and Maslow’s menu isn’t afraid to stray from the culinary norm. Many of the options are intended for more adventurous diners, who will no doubt squint their noses at the dishes’ off-kilter ingredients, excitedly questioning if and how such bold and unique flavors will meld together.

The atmosphere, like Maslow’s food, is trendy and fun. A long, illuminated bar – with lights resembling ice cubes hanging overhead – extends onto the open kitchen at the back of the restaurant, where servers with hats slave away preparing meals under Maslow’s close watch (He isn’t afraid to deep-six a dish if it is not up to his lofty standards, which I witness when waiting to use the restroom). Equally long communal tables foster friendly, albeit loud conversation. For a more intimate meal, on a nice spring/summer evening, I suggest scoring either an outside table overlooking Beacon Street or an indoor table abutting the large window that opens out streetside. Tattooed servers are affable, graciously providing their recommendations accompanied by thought-provoking explanations behind them.

And boy, is there high-calibur cuisine to be had. While I lamented the fact that the much ballyhooed lamb tartare dish was out of season, my spirits quickly perked up when sampling a half plate of rigatoni with fennel, octopus, and smoked tomato sauce ($15 for half plate, $26 for whole). Like most dishes at Ribelle, it’s wonderfully seasoned and highly complex – there are lots of intense flavors that linger on the palate well after each bite, like miniature umami bombs. Sesame buns ($8) are essentially two glorified vegi sliders containing chickpea fritters slathered with calabrian mayo. The buns are super fresh, and the fritters are once again nicely seasoned, if not a tad excessively spicy due to an overzealous application of mayo (my wife, however, adores the dish). Entrees include a medium rare lamb neck alongside chickpeas, peas, and pea green paste. While the dish was adequate and the meat nicely cooked, it was my least favorite, as the ingredients seemed to be repetitive, while the flavor of the pea green paste was slightly off-putting. My favorite entrée, however, was the squid fideo – black ink pasta perfectly cooked al dente and served with buttery chunks of lobster ($27). The dish features an accompanying dollop of almond paste that, on its face, seems superfluous, but when blended into the pasta, is essential to the overall success of the dish.

Desserts are equally strong. I had my heart set on ordering Ribelle’s staple dish – olive oil ice cream topped with a hard chocolate shell. “It’s good, but it’s ice cream,” our waitress honestly states, instead steering me to a trio of avocado mousse, hibiscus ice, and tapioca, once again a delicious testament to Maslow’s mad-scientist experimentation that produces the sweetest culinary music.

For suburban dining, wine selections are a bit pricey per glass ($11-15), but are well thought out (a select handful of sparklers, whites and reds adorn the menu) and playfully described (i.e. a bubbly is labeled “bright, but rich enough to cut the cheese”). It’s this type of cheekiness that makes Ribelle so memorable, and reminds you that there is approachability to Maslow’s complex cuisine.

While Ribelle’s squished-up neon script sign is barely recognizable from Beacon Street, most of the food certainly stands out. Maslow’s culinary rebel yell can be heard well into the suburbs of Brookline and far beyond. He has ‘stripped’ away every culinary cliché on his menu to create food that is distinctly his own – and it fits him to a ‘T.’

Monday, May 5, 2014

Barcelona Wine Bar Lacks Spice of Spain

Brookline’s Washington Square neighborhood has certainly undergone a culinary transformation over the past couple of years, as evidenced by newcomers Fairsted Kitchen and universally revered contemporary Italian hotspot Ribelle, restaurants that have deservedly received wide acclaim for their innovative cuisine. Barcelona Wine Bar – a well-regarded national chain - has received similar attention, and it’s apparent when walking over to the restaurant one evening that it is busy. In fact, the place is packed to the gills, with a lively, younger, twenty-ish crowd that appears to prefer a nightlife scene over sophisticated cuisine. Unfortunately, Barcelona Wine Bar appears to cater to that very clientele. While there are evident hits across both its menu and service, the results are disappointingly, sometimes maddeningly, inconsistent.

Diners seeking an intimate, romantic dining experience that one may experience on the streets of Barcelona, consider yourselves warned: Barcelona Wine Bar is excessively loud. From it cramped, noisy bar area (where our party, along with several others were forced to wait at least 30 minutes over our reservation times), music loudly blares. A nice touch, however, is the restaurant staff acknowledging the extended wait, as a server brings out complimentary fried cheese wedges subtly sweetened with lavender. When the first table becomes available, guess where the hostess plans on seating us? Tableside right by the bar, where our voices have gone hoarse and eardrums are pierced. “Uh, no thank you,” I insist. We are thankfully soon seated in the dining room next door, which while an improvement, has terrible acoustics that still force us to shout over the loud music that continues to pulsate from the bar. In hindsight, given such a lovely evening weather-wise, I would much rather have opted for Barcelona’s outdoor seating with heated lamps. The restaurant’s dimly lit, sleek interior showcases brown wood paneling and a fun open kitchen featuring hanging meats that are a fun nod to the Spanish butchery windowsills. Spanish-themed pictures including the Barcelona national soccer team and a bullfighting arena, along with a bull head plaque, playfully adorn the walls.

Barcelona Wine Bar’s focus is on tapas – fun, Spanish small plates intended for sharing – and there are several fine ones to be had. The menu, our genial waiter acknowledges, nicely reads from top to bottom in terms of lighter to heavier options. Smaller bites – apertivos – include addictively spicy mixed Spanish olives ($3.50) that are gone from the plate before one can say “Rapido.” Asparagus topped with fried egg and manchego cheese brings me back to my college days abroad in Seville, the ultimate traditional comfort food that my senora used to prepare as part of their most important meal of the day, almuerzo (lunch), a perfect dish to precede their siesta. Another traditional, heartier dish that is well executed is the potato tortilla ($4.50), a Spanish omelet whose firmness and denseness are traits not always evident in previous failed carbon-copy attempts I’ve sampled, and is nicely paired with chive sour cream. Patatas bravas ($6.50) are crisped just enough and layered with salsa brava and garlic aioli. If I had one minor quibble here, it’s a mistake of my own doing: this dish seemed a bit repetitive starch-wise following the tortilla, and I would have opted for the latter plate if I could re-order. Albondigas ($7.50) – luscious meatballs in a sinfully good, zesty sauce – were delightful, and disappeared nearly as quickly as the olives. Lastly, a highly innovative dish of octopus-infused noodles with black squid ink pasta ($14.00) was breathtaking to both look at – served in a large, round steaming black iron skillet – and eat. The octopus tentacles were meaty and the dish was topped with garlic aioli. It was by far the most memorable dish of the evening.

Unfortunately, there were several notable misfires that offset some of the fine cuisine we’d sampled. A pity, given Executive Chef Steven Brands’s (formerly of the highly regarded, now shuttered Harvard Square staple, Upstairs on the Square) reputation for delivering consistently tasty fare. Migas ($6.00), a traditional Spanish dish which fried egg over chorizo, was surprisingly bland, and would have greatly benefitted from some heat, either by way of a spicier cut of chorizo or that wonderful aforementioned sauce dousing the meatballs. Another major problem was with Barcelona’s menu, where groups are typically encouraged to share small tapas plates. If groups, however, prefer to blend standard tapas with larger, intriguing plates such as paella or mixed grill options, it becomes cost-prohibitive (as well as straining stomach capacity), since you must order at least two plates per table at $24.50 per person. This is a blemish that the restaurant needs to rectify – pronto – as it runs entirely counter to the tapas sharing dining concept. With that being said, our table orders one portion of the grilled churrasco ($23.50), a tender, thinly pounded slice of steak that while nicely cooked medium rare, is a tad salty for my taste. The meat is topped with sweet potato frites, which while they sound enticing, are slightly undercooked and not crispy.

Forego desserts here – they border on disastrous. Flan Catalan ($6.00) is average at best (a good thing we didn’t order it – it was mistakenly brought to our table). Crepas salguero ($7.00) have no crispness whatsoever, two thin, limp slices of dough filled with grocery-store quality whipped cream and covered with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce that resembles Hershey syrup. I’ve also sampled far tastier churros. These dough sticks, while crispy enough, should come piping hot tableside – they’re not. What they are is excessively sweet and over-dusted with cinnamon and sugar. Sometimes, a little restraint from the kitchen is a good thing. The aforementioned chocolate sauce with which these are paired should be thick and gooey, not drippy. The mediocrity of desserts at Barcelona Wine Bar makes me feel as if I’ve stumbled into Applebees, not a well-regarded restaurant.

Sangria ($6.50/glass, $24/pitcher) should be Barcelona’s signature drink. Sadly, it’s not. Instead, this version is weak alcohol-wise and far too sweet with no tartness to balance it whatsoever. “Is this house-made?” I ask the bartender. “Yes,” he confirms. Tastes as if it came out of a can, I think to myself, relieved that I did not order an entire pitcher. You’ll have much better luck imbibing on Barcelona’s interesting cocktail selection, including the Hot Dahlia ($9.50), a unique, intensely spicy blend of roasted Jalapeno infused tequila, muddled orange, cilantro, and lime juice. Also noteworthy is the Bourbon Spice Rack ($10.50), a complex, balanced, subtly sweet beverage combining Four Roses bourbon, Doc’s maple syrup, lemon juice, Scrappy’s cardamom, lavender bitters, and is served over one giant ice cube that maintains the drink’s chill.

Barcelona does boast a large, interesting selection of wines that are heavily weighted towards Spain, and available by the glass ($6-$12.50), ½ glass ($4.25-$6.75), or wine flights (a trio of tastes for $15). There are several tempranillos (including a medium-bodied, ripe La Montera), along with ten different types of sherry ($6-17/glass). Beer lovers will take solace in several intriguing options, including a Staropramen lager imported from the Czech Republic ($7) and more adventurous, pricier types such as a St. Peter’s cream stout hailing from England ($14) and Estrella Damm. Inedit out of Spain ($28).

Much like the cuisine, service is wildly erratic. While our server is extremely helpful and knowledge of the menu (he even graciously takes the time to check off dairy-free options for my wife), he disappears in stretches (understandable, given how busy the restaurant is and how many tables he is covering), while the wait staff is barely noticeable, as water refills were nonexistent.

Barcelona Wine Bar may be attracting throngs of customers, but its hype does not live up to the reality of its inconsistent cuisine and service. For better executed cuisine and more polished service, head to the South End’s Toro. This Brookline eatery, however, is unfortunately literally and figuratively continents away from the best restaurants that Spain’s beloved Catalan-based city has to offer.

Monday, March 24, 2014

Fairsted Kitchen a Homey Addition to Brookline Dining Scene

Open since last fall, Fairsted Kitchen is one of a number of restaurants (along with Tim Maslow’s much-ballyhooed Ribelle and Barcelona Wine Bar) that have re-vitalized what was once a relatively stagnant Washington Square neighborhood dining scene. Don’t let the eatery’s cozy, charming interior fool you – the cuisine that’s coming out of this kitchen is some of the most innovative, exciting fare in the Boston area.

The restaurant’s ambience is quaint, resembling a small antique home and seating only 47 customers. A small bar greets patrons who push their way through curtains, while most are seated a little too tightly together and dine communally against the dining room walls, which are painted and papered in gold and turquoise colors. Pendants hanging from the ceiling add to the New England charm of the place, which is evident in lots of items at Fairsted, including an antique clear glass punch bowl used to playfully pour a cocktail filled with rum and black tea into small tea cups. Our waitress explains that all of the china and tableware have been discovered by the owner at local flea markets. Flea market-to-table dining, anyone? It goes to show that it’s casualness, and not pretentiousness, that Fairsted successfully aims for and achieves. One small quibble: the loud music seems out of place with the restaurant’s restrained vibe, and makes for somewhat challenging conversation.

Portions range from snacks and sides ($8), small (appetizers at $13), large (entrees from $19-$33), and table (family-style dining, including braised oxtail at $51 and chateaubriand at $85). Executive Chef W. Scott Osif’s cuisine is tinged with influences from across the globe. We start with a small tasting, the pig’s head lettuce wrap, which is a bona fide steal at $5 and far less ‘offal’ than the name suggests. The pork is breaded and fried into a crisp round with carrots, daikon, and cilantro. I’m guessing there’s harissa or a spice or some sort that is cooked into the fried meat, since it gives of an unexpected, sweat-inducing, yet welcomed burst of heat. I would have preferred that heat emanate from a sauce, if only to add some balance to the overall texture of the dish, which was a tad too dry to my liking. Other snacks were superb, starting with a nod to the French in the form of savory, deep-fried cod beignets, which possessed a crispy exterior brimming with a moist, white fish interior. The fritters swim in a pool of zesty, smoked tomato confict for dipping, and provide nice balance to the sweetness of the fried shell coating. Equally enticing is the Middle Eastern-inspired hummus – a light, bright, velvety chickpea spread that also incorporates unique ingredients such as pickled fennel and pine nuts for contrast in texture, all of which can be enjoyed atop thin, crunchy sourdough crostinis.

Small plates did not disappoint, either. The ricotta gnocchi were perfectly cooked al dente and duck confit added richness and a touch of saltiness that nicely balanced out the sweetness of the parmesan reggiano in which the pasta was melted. And just to demonstrate how Chef Osif routinely turns traditional foreign fare on its head, he even incorporates kohlrabi, a German turnip, into what is a traditionally Italian pasta dish. And you haven’t lived until you savor the delectable cumin-infused lamb ribs, tender, deeply-charred fleshes of meat that fall off of the bone, whose flavors are further enhanced when dipped in spicy vinegar sauce, a welcomed umami flavor from Asia.

An entrée of smoked duck is also good, if somewhat of a letdown, as the medium-rear cooked meat seemed a tad cold while the accompanying crispy potato pancake was excessively salty.

Dessert offerings are slim but worthy. A chocolate mousse is an airier alternative to denser versions I’ve sampled, but sadly, the cardamom-infused whipped cream added barely discernable traces of the spice I had hoped would counter the bitterness of the chocolate. Fortunately, in the absence of an espresso machine, a French press coffee provided a nice, personal touch.

Cocktails both innovative in name and ingredients adorn the menu. No Sleep Till Brookline , mixed with Bourbon Amaro Montenegro, lemon, sugar, and bitters, is a libation that would make the Beastie Boys proud, and in the fun spirit that Fairsted’s cocktail program emits, would keep anyone rockin’ on and on ‘till the break of dawn. So, too, would other concoctions that gleefully mix Spanish sherry and sweet vermouth over ice. The extensive wine selection is impressive, ranging from a Sparkling Malbec to more hidden jewels such as a 2009 Dignac Peljesac hailing from Croatia. Fairsted’s beer selection is equally enticing, including four beers on draft from Jack’s Abby Brewing based out of Framingham, which includes the Smoke and Dagger ($6), one of the smoked schwarzbiers that are now the drink du jour, as well as the Framinghammer, a Baltic porter. Other intriguing bottles include the potent Andescher Dunkel out of Germany and a St. Louis Cherry produced in Belgium.

While the service at Fairsted was good, I felt somewhat let down by the hype surrounding the staff’s exceptional level of hospitality. While Boston Globe food critic Devra First sang the restaurant’s praises in this regard, I ask you this: what hospitable host keeps its guests waiting nearly twenty minutes before taking a drink order, goes prolonged stretches without refilling water glasses, and then politely, yet prematurely ushers them out shortly after their meals have concluded so that another party may take their table?

Overall, I left Fairsted Kitchen more impressed with its globe-trotting, bold cuisine than with its service. It’s the food, and not the overly-hyped hospitality, that shines brightest and makes Fairsted a dining destination worth writing home about.