ROBERT NADEAU

Restaurant Marliave

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 15:44:48 GMT

Introducing a menu that multitasks
The Marliave is 132 years old. It opened as a French restaurant, survived Prohibition as a speakeasy, and at some point became Italian.

FOURTH INCARNATION The landmark Marliave is back for an upscale round.

The Marliave is 132 years old. It opened as a French restaurant, survived Prohibition as a speakeasy, and at some point became Italian. And so, in the lifetime of the Boston Phoenix, it was a relatively cheap, old-fashioned Italian cafû spread oddly over three floors and a charming porch, which is now enclosed. Two years ago the restaurant was shuttered to be lovingly rehabilitated by chef Scott Herritt, of Beacon Hill's cozy basement-level Grotto. Now Herritt is running the three-level circus that is the new Marliave: an oyster bar; a New England food/speakeasy-flavor bar-bistro; and a fine-dining room, with which we are here concerned. The news from up top is good: old Marliave fans may have a little sticker shock, but the upstairs food is mostly Italian and mostly terrific.

On the dining-room menu, the operative word is "variation." Each appetizers and dessert, for example, presents more than one treatment of an ingredient or flavor, while each entrûe is actually divided into two courses, with one making something like an Italian pasta middle course and the other a modest, nouvelle-portion entrûe. It's a lot to take in, but it works quite well in pacing a luxurious dinner over an evening.

The appetizers seem to be the hardest to get right when it comes to the multitasking. My favorite was Eva's Garden Salad ($17), which manages to highlight two delicious kinds of heirloom tomatoes during out-of-season November, along with mesclun, edible nasturtium flowers, and a demitasse of rich tomato-veggie bisque. Beet salad ($17) includes a similar cuplet of cold borscht, a marvelous row of cubed mousses (goat cheese and red and yellow beets), and a somewhat silly toothpick skewer of sliced beets and multicolored cheese.

The duck appetizer ($17) brings two scrumptious meatballs in a port-wine reduction, plus foie gras (fattened duck liver) stuffed into a few ravioli. Unfortunately, the foie gras got lost inside the pasta, but you get the idea. Three pairs of oysters ($17) all fell short: oysters Rockefeller tasted mostly like cheese; oysters casino were overwhelmed by salty bacon; and oysters Champagne were just more cheese with oysters baked in there somewhere. It'd be better to simply perfect one of these recipes.

Erbaluce

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 23:33:50 GMT

Elaborate cuisine that's simply delicious
If they start rotisserie leagues for restaurants, I'm never going to draft a chef in the first round. I just can't follow them all, what with their constant job changes and stints working for other chefs — for a week, for a year, taking out the garbage, who knows?

NO MUSSEL Razor clams make for a great dish in a terrific Mediterranean broth.

If they start rotisserie leagues for restaurants, I'm never going to draft a chef in the first round. I just can't follow them all, what with their constant job changes and stints working for other chefs — for a week, for a year, taking out the garbage, who knows? I can follow maybe 10 Boston chefs, each of whom has a really distinctive style. One I lost track of is Charles Draghi, who was a pioneer with transparent infusion sauces at the North End's Marcuccio's for what seemed like 45 seconds. Then he popped up at Limbo for another shining moment. I also caught him as the opening chef at 33, where I had one of the best meals ever served in the most distracting surroundings imaginable (they have since moderated both the cheffery and the interior design).

Then what happened to Draghi? It turns out he went over to the dark side and became a waiter for five years. Does working the front of the room, seeing how diners actually order and react, make you a better chef? Maybe. Now Draghi finally has his own restaurant, Erbaluce, and his food has a mature style that combines the best of the experimental "ûpices" cuisine — the early version of the science-lab stuff he used to do — with the locavore "terroirs" cuisine that is the current rage. Keeping things Italian puts it all in focus.

Food started with white-bean paste in a pool of virgin olive oil, with Tuscan bread to dip in it. The bean paste was intriguingly spiced with nutmeg and pepper and — what? These moments of intrigue recur, as Draghi is a flavor artist.

In an appetizer of roasted whole turnips with raisin locro ($16), for example, there was an amazing interaction between the slightly spicy taste of the turnips and something in the cheese. The whole thing ends up as bracing as parsnips, even though parsnips aren't involved. Razor clams ($9), in a broth with saffron and fennel, are a meatier twist on mussels. (They're also sandier, as razor clams are burrowing creatures and cannot be cultured on ropes.) This is a great dish of seafood in a terrific Mediterranean broth; we asked for spoons to finish it.

Roadhouse Craft Beer & BBQ

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 23:43:53 GMT

Off to a (somewhat) smoky start
So, about the long-awaited Roadhouse Craft Beer & BBQ, sister restaurant to the popular Publick House, which has finally been rebuilt, licensed, and is now open.

ON THE FRY: The deep-fry baby-back ribs are a highlight at Roadhouse.

So, about the long-awaited Roadhouse Craft Beer & BBQ, sister restaurant to the popular Publick House, which has finally been rebuilt, licensed, and is now open. The 40 draft beers — mostly American — are outstanding. And service is pretty good; noise only becomes problematic on weekends. They even deep-fry baby-back ribs ($9) — it doesn’t get any more extreme than that.

But in the end, I’m pretty certain they don’t actually slow-smoke the barbecue. I’m quite sure about this with the half-chicken ($14), which is a boned breast with blackened skin but powdery, overcooked white meat; the dark-meat quarter is only a little better. The loss is flavor, both of the meat and of the flame. The gain, more evident on other meats, is tenderness. A brisket sandwich ($11) is wonderfully tender and juicy, with satisfactory hickory smokishness in the sauce. The least smoky meat I sampled on two visits was the mixed sausage platter ($12), which looked and tasted like supermarket kielbasa sliced two ways. Though it’s listed as an entrée, this platter is actually more like an appetizer. It comes with some white toasts, deli mustard, pickles, and an excellent mesclun salad.

An actual appetizer, Roadhouse chili ($4/cup; $8/bowl), is decent, despite cooked-in tomatoes and onions (which tend to make it too sweet) and decorative tortilla chips (which are okay in my book as long as they’re just decorations). I’d like a bottle of hot sauce handy with this chili, but that’s an easy fix.

In fact, the smoking problem isn’t an impossible fix either — you just need someone to commit hours and hours to keeping briskets and chickens and ribs going at low temperatures so they stay juicy, concentrate more flavor, and develop that telltale red ring. Then again, you could drop the smoke-cooking entirely if you also drop the pre- or post-cooking; there’s a perfectly legitimate North Carolina/Boston black tradition of oven-baked or slow-grilled ribs. Until the restaurant makes a decision, my helpful but unhealthful suggestion is to order the fried baby-back ribs. If it’s not about cheap meat and live fire, it should at least be about crunch and grease and salt. The barbecue sauce with these ribs has a little smokage, a bit too much sweetness, and a nice layer of hotness.

Winsor Dim Sum Café

ROBERT NADEAU — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 12:49:26 GMT

Dim sum all day and night
At most of Boston’s dim-sum palaces, my strategy has always been to sit near the kitchen door, to get the little plates off the cart when they’re hottest.

BEST IN SHOW: Lobster with ginger and scallion is one of the winners at Winsor Dim Sum

When dining out, comedian Henny Youngman always asked for a table near a waiter. At most of Boston’s dim-sum palaces, my strategy has always been to sit near the kitchen door, to get the little plates off the cart when they’re hottest. Winsor Dim Sum has introduced two exciting reforms: dim sum made to order, and dim sum — classically served as brunch or tea snacks — available all day. The former makes seating arrangements less necessary, but still a good idea.

Of course, no Chinese restaurant bets the mortgage on any single theme, so the menu also includes a considerable assortment of Hong Kong seafood, a sprinkling of Szechwan dishes, plus congee, bubble teas, and even sandwiches.

Various kinds of Chinese restaurants have been housed in this space, yet it remains a simple upstairs dining room. There are two Chinese pictures on the wall, and a third of a waterfall with a cheesy flickering-water effect. At night the room resolves into three very large tables and some smaller ones, with all the big tables our night occupied by a single family birthday party. The partiers were eating Cantonese dinner food, and we wanted what they were having. So we had dim sum for appetizers, and then tucked into the Cantonese menu with relish.

Off the dim-sum list, we started with “pork and shrimp dumpling” ($2.75), which produced four piping-hot barrel-shaped double bites of exquisite, juicy freshness. These were like the original shumai, before Japanese restaurants got a hold of them and began making them smaller and more tightly wrapped. I thought “crabmeat dumpling with soup inside” ($2.95) might be one of those Taiwanese type, where you use a straw to get the broth out of the dumpling before you try to eat it. In fact, we got one triple-size Peking ravioli floating in a bowl of “superior stock,” the pork/chicken broth that is the basis of much of Cantonese cooking. With a few mushrooms flavoring the shredded shrimp, it was an excellent snack.

BOKX 109

ROBERT NADEAU — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 01:16:03 GMT

Go meat in Newton
To get questions about the name out of the way, “bokx” is the industry term for boxed cuts of meat, and number 109 is prime rib.

TAKE A NUMBER" Veal rib chop (306) is very tasty, with a hint of chew.

To get questions about the name out of the way, “bokx” is the industry term for boxed cuts of meat, and number 109 is prime rib. There are other numbers on the menu here too: 103 (rib eye); 173 (porterhouse); 204 (rack of lamb); 413 (pork loin). Personally, I preferred the hides and branding irons on the walls of the old steak houses, but cowboy culture is so last year; ours is the age of industrial chic. The dreamy techno soundtrack at BOKX 109 bridges the industrial name of the restaurant and the new age graphics of the hotel in which it’s located. How does all of this work for a place just off Route 128, south of the Massachusetts Turnpike? I don’t know, but the buyers of a defunct Holiday Inn thought they did, and here we are.

We walked past a bar with TVs set to sports and into a dark dining room with an up-market steak-house menu. You thought the steak luxe thing had reached its limit when Boston Public closed, but no. We sat down at a dark wood table set with refracted red water glasses, upside down salt and pepper grinders, and a switchblade-looking steak knife for big meat orders.

My favorite appetizer was calamari frito misto ($12), for its impeccable dry-fry job and presentation in a checked paper cylinder. Warning: the accompanying fried green beans are harmless, but the fried red chili peppers can do serious harm to the unprepared. The red dipping sauce also has hot spice and a hint of smoke. Many will prefer not to dip.

Also quite good were the crab cakes ($16), three all-meat patties crisped on the top and bottom, but so meaty they fall apart. On each one is a little salad of frisée and green apple shreds. Mussels ($12) are seasonally plump and served in a tomato linguiça broth that builds up some hot pepper intensity. (Our server warned us about this one.) Asparagus salad ($12), from the “Bokx of Greens” menu sub-section, is presented with a crisp-fried coddled egg. This would be a classic if the egg didn’t end up solid due to the extra deep-fry step. Excellent wild mushrooms enhanced with truffle oil are included in this salad, but a side dish of the mushrooms ($8) gets you a lot more of them, so if you’re mainly into the fungi, have them as an appetizer.

Machu Picchu Charcoal Chicken & Grill

ROBERT NADEAU — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 03:10:55 GMT

Double the pleasure, half the price
Having made a success of their remarkably authentic Peruvian restaurant in Union Square, the owners of Machu Picchu moved it to a bigger space up 30 yards across the street.

BIRDLAND: Try the rotisserie chicken at Machu Picchu.

Having made a success of their remarkably authentic Peruvian restaurant in Union Square, the owners of Machu Picchu moved it to a bigger space up 30 yards across the street. Then they cleaned out that original room, installed a rotisserie, modernized the décor, and opened up a new restaurant in the old space — confusingly, also called Machu Picchu — with an even-less-expensive menu of Peruvian treats (and some holdovers). Want a $9 chicken dinner or a $14 steak? You could put up with a little pan-flute music for that, right?

Curiously, the yucca fries ($6.95), native to Peru and served with most entrées, are only middling, not really crisp, while the plantains — from Africa — are wonderfully sweet, and the yuquitas ($6.95) — native to Brazil — are glorious. This may be due to the fact that yucca is closer to pure starch than is a potato, so the symphony of starch, grease, and salt is uninhibited by too many vitamins or minerals. It also may have to do with correct frying temperatures, which are different for yucca and potatoes. Certainly the huancaina sauce, borrowed from an Andean potato dish, is a major factor in the success of Machu Picchu’s yucca fries. It’s creamy with rich flavor and real bite courtesy of the Peruvian yellow chili called aji amarillo. Another creamy sauce is available, this one green and a little less incendiary. Both make wonderful fried-yucca dips.

Choclo Peruano ($6.99), a seasonal peasant meal of corn on the cob with only eight rows of giant white kernels, is a fine traditional appetizer. It comes frozen from Peru and is served with rubbery white cheese. You could also move into the key of meat with combination street-snack platters. The “Picante” ($12.99) features grilled tripe, chicken gizzards, and pieces of beef-heart meat, all pre-treated with cumin and pepper. The beef heart, the classic “anticucho” ($7.99 à la carte), is the best, though the gizzards are too chewy and need more taste of the fire. The tripe are the easiest to eat, but don’t absorb flavor so well.

Tamarind Bay Coastal Cuisine

ROBERT NADEAU — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 06:11:13 GMT

A second successful effort from an Indian-food master
Tamarind Bay in Harvard Square set a new standard for Indian restaurants in Boston, and perhaps in the whole country.

THE COAST IS CLEAR: Mangalorean lobster is mighty fine and easy to eat.

Tamarind Bay in Harvard Square set a new standard for Indian restaurants in Boston, and perhaps in the whole country. It was like going from black-and-white to Technicolor, or flying from Boston to New Delhi or London. This second location, Tamarind Bay Coastal Cuisine, opened with the original chef, Wali Ahmad; a few of the best dishes from the first restaurant; and an emphasis on New England seafood. Although the Brookline location is somewhat spottier and has a shorter menu than Tamarind Bay, it, too, is several cuts above the competition.

Tamarind Bay Coastal’s superiority is evident right from the papadum, which are fresh and curled around like Frisbees, something that doesn’t happen to papadum at other Indian restaurants. Our appetizer choices ran to fried morsels. The most amazing were cabbage chitwa ($9.95), crunchy cakes of red cabbage and onion that had the dry maple flavor of fenugreek. Then there were crispy cheese tikki ($8.50), fritters with some hot red sauce and a slice of jalapeño on top. Yum!

We also had tulsi malai lamb ($10.95), five sausages with subtle coriander spicing and a sneakier, slower-acting version of the red sauce, tempered with mint. Grilled scallops ($12.95) are seared with some dry and hot spices on a bed of cold spinach with seaweed flavor.

For main-dish seafood, Mangalorean lobster ($24.95) is mighty fine, presented sort of semi-shelled — still easy to eat, but this way you know they started with a live lobster — in a rich green curry. Masala crab cake ($20.95) brings two large patties in a more familiar curry laced with cumin and coriander seed.

For vegetarians, Tamarind Bay Coastal is still nirvana. I had to order what I remembered as my favorite thing from the Harvard Square restaurant: lalla musa dal ($14.95). This is a thick brown dish of black lentils cooked overnight, meatier than most meats, with overtones of butter and barbecue. Though I received side dishes of the same dal (and basmati rice) with other entrées, I was glad to have more of it. (Looking on the Internet for a recipe, I found that Sanjeev Kapoor, chef Wali’s former boss on the Indian TV food show Khana Khazana — not to be confused with Hannah Montana — features lalla musa dal at his chain of Yellow Chilli restaurants. So at last we taste the kind of Indian food that lights up gourmets in India.) Puréed red pepper may be part of the magic.

The Melting Pot

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 14:07:17 GMT

Dip into confusing dining
You can eat pretty well at the Melting Pot, but you need some focus and discipline.

LOBSTER FONDUE: Don’t overcook the protein, which can be dipped in six sauces.

Back when George W. Bush was smart enough to get a Harvard MBA, he began — as do all first-year students — with Production and Operations Management (POM), the basic barrier course. The class uses the case method, and the fun lesson in those days was that of Benihana, a chain of Japanese-style steak houses where waiter-chefs grill your food in front of you. In terms of POM, Benihana streamlines production by merging the roles of cook and waiter, and operates more efficiently by seating people with strangers at circular tables. The Melting Pot will soon have twice as many locations as Benihana, in part by doing the same trick with waiters as chefs. But by applying it to fondue — broadly defined here to include variations of the Mongolian hot pot — they’re able to charge mass-steak-house prices for less protein. Bring your marketing-class notebook, because part of the formula is for the menu to convince people that a fondue dinner consists of four courses, and to make the 16-page menu so confusing that most people buy a prix-fixe combination.

You can eat pretty well at the Melting Pot, but you need some focus and discipline. The urge to try everything makes for a diminished experience here, as it does at a wedding buffet. (Remember Nadeau’s Law of Buffets: look it over first, then take no more than three or four things you like.)

The menu says you should start with cheese fondue ($16/one or two; $8/each additional person). They offer six kinds, but four of you can usually have only one, since there’s a single heating element per table. (Tables for six have two heating elements.) If you’re not going for a package, give a nod to fondue history with the “Traditional Swiss Cheese Fondue.” The waiter heats up your pot and makes a production number out of mixing six ingredients in several batches. This is fondue as it was made by young couples with wedding-gift fondue sets in the 1970s. The wine never fully cooks off, so it’s sort of heady melted cheese, rolled up like spaghetti on cubes of bread (not stale enough our night) at the end of long fondue forks. You also have cauliflower florets, celery, and cubes of Granny Smith apple. You’ll run out of cheese before you run out of dipping food, so stick with bread and apples.

Annapurna

ROBERT NADEAU — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 07:15:00 GMT

Unusual pan-Himalayan cuisine in the heart of Cambridge
Annapurna is owned and decorated by Nepalis, but in addition to Nepali cuisine, it serves a pan-Himalayan menu, including Afghan food, and a couple of Tibetan items.

QUALITY, QUANTITY: Annapurna Special Himalayan Bhojan is a multi-dish combination that
comes on brass plates and makes an interesting show.

Annapurna is owned and decorated by Nepalis, but in addition to Nepali cuisine, it serves a pan-Himalayan menu, including a lot of Afghan food, a couple of Tibetan items, some really good Indian-style curries and breads, and, for all I know, the best of Sikkim and Bhutan. In what’s proven to be a tricky location in Porter Square, they also hedge with some plain salads, “Cape Cod fried fish,” and what looked a lot like chicken nuggets as they cleaned up a child’s birthday party just before dinner hour. I didn’t taste these last things, though they may be a boon to parties in which someone just doesn’t like any kind of spice.

That said, the spicing in dishes here, at least those ordered by non-Asians, is rather mild, as is typical of these high-mountain cuisines. Most of the hot pepper went into pickles and chutneys, especially a truly superb mint one. To get it, you need to order something like chicken pakaura ($6), not crisp but genuinely tasty chopped-up chicken fritters with Himalayan herbs. This also comes with its own dip, a creamy peppery-cilantro sauce. Annapurna’s chicken momo ($5), also available in a vegetarian variety, are folded over like Peking ravioli instead of being drawn into the usual purse shape. On the other hand, aushak ($5; $11/entrée) are not the usual Peking-ravioli shape (as they are at the beloved Helmand), but flat pasties stuffed with scallions and topped with minted yogurt.

The restaurant has added American-style salads, including one of boiled beets and a bit of goat cheese ($5). You’ll want to explore the soups instead. Complimentary our night with a plate of papadum was a demitasse of yellow-split-pea soup jazzed up with coriander. Roasted-vegetable soup ($4) was a purée as rich as Canadian pea soup (which is made with pork), but likely accomplished without meat.

Townsend's

ROBERT NADEAU — Thu, 25 Sep 2008 06:51:36 GMT

Go out of the way for good food and a welcoming atmosphere
It’s south of Cleary Square, which is similar to what Davis Square was like 20 years ago, a world of mom-and-pop stores leavened with immigrants that now seems as remote.

SALAD DAYS: Grilled romaine hearts is a clever spin on the classic.

To get to Townsend’s in Hyde Park — one of Boston’s lesser-known neighborhoods — you don’t have to go that far, but you do go through a time warp. The restaurant describes itself as being in Logan Square (don’t try this on a cab driver), but it’s actually south of Cleary Square, which is similar to what Davis Square was like 20 years ago, a world of mom-and-pop stores leavened with immigrants that now seems as remote as Sturbridge Village to most of Boston. Cleary Square’s newest enterprising immigrants are from Africa — in the pre-yuppie times of Davis Square, they might have been from Portugal or Italy.

This doesn’t seem like a very clever place to put a serious bistro-pub, but the owners did market research, got some help from Jeff Fournier of Newton’s 51 Lincoln, and on a recent Friday night filled every table by eight o’clock. Contrary to what one might expect of a place that flies the Irish flag, the food is quite delicious, there’s a fine, extensive beer list, and the customer base when we were there included Africans, African-Americans, and at least one lesbian couple.

How does Townsend manage to attract such a diverse crowd? Well, we could start with the bread basket, which features very tasty Italian bread with big holes, as well as a fresh, dense loaf. Slices of these go well with a flowery-peppery extra-virgin olive oil that doesn’t need the added chili and rosemary. A lot of people will go straight from there to the “PEI beer mussels” ($8), which are steamed in Smithwick’s red ale. They’re prepared carefully enough that all the alcohol is cooked off. The results aren’t too salty; in fact, there’s a rich, cheese-like flavor. You’ll want to keep spooning up the broth with mussel shells, pieces of bread, the two toasts provided, or your bare hands.

Grilled romaine hearts ($8) is a clever spin on deconstructed Caesar salad. They really do grill a whole lettuce, getting some char on the outside while most of it remains crisp. Caesar-like sauce is dribbled artistically alongside, and there are superior croutons made of the Italian bread with the big holes. The seafood trio ($11) puts some nice smoked bluefish pâté next to those toasts, with skewers of grilled shrimp and tempura-fried salmon bellies. I couldn’t believe the skill of this fry job, so we also had a side dish of tempura-fried asparagus ($4), and it was even better.

Central 37

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 21:23:13 GMT

Good food if you can find it
The food wasn’t great Rene Michelena, but it was him, and fun, and there are some real advantages to being the only diners in the room.

DOUGH BUSINESS: Central 37’s veal/leek dumplings are outstanding.

I’m not a chef chaser, but I will follow a chef with a recognizable style. In the case of Rene Michelena, whose signatures include underdone juicy morsels and a subtle fusion he calls MediterAsian, it’s been quite a zigzag, from Centro (I missed his debut at La Bettola) to St. Botolph to the Vault; on to Caffe Umbra, where he consulted; over to Saint; upstairs to Domani; and now downtown to Central 37.

And it is no small trick just to find Central 37, since it isn’t at 37, isn’t on Central, and is so far back from the sidewalk of its official address (21 Broad Street) that it’s better to think of it as being behind the huge 75 State Street building. (To further complicate things, when you get to the door, the sign says “Market,” which is the first-floor lounge.) Central 37 was apparently the name of an ancient inn or tavern on the site, which was most recently the Black Rhino.

Worse, I’m clearly not the only one who’s having trouble finding the place. Early on a weeknight, we had the dining room to ourselves, and it was probably the same everywhere else in the four-level venue, which includes a private dining room and rooftop bar. They had some bad nights this past spring when a Boston Globe critic was in the house, and her one-star review, combined with prices on the higher end, has likely kept crowds away. (Price points have since come down a notch.) All that said, the kitchen was having a good night when we got there. The food wasn’t great Michelena, but it was him, and fun, and there are some real advantages to being the only diners in the room: no noise problem, superior service, and our choice of TV stations (women’s tennis).

Shabu Shabu Toki

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 21:08:50 GMT

Where to go if you’re in-the-know
Yet another way to enjoy the soup/fondue shabu-shabu: quickly cook the meats and eat them with dips and condiments.

THE WOW FACTOR: Spicy tuna tostada breaks new ground at Shabu Shabu Toki.

After I ate at the new Shabu-Zen in Allston, one of my guests went out with her Japanese friends, who took her across the street to Shabu Shabu Toki. What did they know that I didn’t? Yet another way to enjoy the soup/fondue shabu-shabu: quickly cook the meats and eat them with dips and condiments.

Toki has a better variety of these accompaniments than Shabu-Zen, though their broths aren’t that exciting. Another thing these Japanese friends-of-friends knew, which I learned only when I got to Shabu Shabu Toki, is that the restaurant is overseen by sushi master Toru Oga, so they also have some amazing raw-seafood options, as well as a line of attractively priced skewers that are perfect for the drinking crowd.

First we ripped into some appetizers and sushi, and they were extraordinary. Chef Oga has completely reinvented shumai ($6), using the exquisite soft rice dough of another Chinese dim sum, har gow, to wrap around four steamed shrimp dumplings. He also uses some kind of chili peppers cut into confetti pieces about the size and shape of straight pins. These show up on an otherwise unremarkable calamari salad ($7) of soy-marinated squid and a near-Caesar dressing on mesclun greens, as well as on sushi destined for the hit parade: “spicy tuna tostada” ($14). The tostada used here is not a fried tortilla, as it would be in a Mexican restaurant, but a square of sushi rice wrapped in seaweed, with a base of crunchy tempura crumbs. On top of this is spicy raw salmon, which looks like cut-up tomatoes on a taco, along with micro greens, Korean hot sauce, and shredded red onion. You end up with something the size of a brownie that tastes like a whole modern sushi dinner. Wow.

“Crispy quail” ($12) is another winner: four pieces of tiny fowl, each boned enough to make meaty bites, with a wonderful soy tang and hot-pepper dip. An ordinary unagi avocado roll ($5.50) is more like sushi for two, with about six slices of a roll featuring broiled eel and avocado, for richness and flavor, and good — not great — sushi rice.

Gran Gusto

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:30:51 GMT

A well-kept secret . . . But not for long
Gran Gusto is an Italian delight located as close to the middle of nowhere as it gets in North Cambridge.

YOU’RE FIRED: Gran Gusto’s grilled squid has the right balance of flame and seafood tastes.

Gran Gusto is an Italian delight located as close to the middle of nowhere as it gets in North Cambridge, in the Brickyard office building opposite the former city dump (now a park). As such, it’s a sleeper, and it needed a sleeper strategy to replace the previous occupant of the space, Tartufo at the Brickyard. (Tartufo was a branch of a successful Newton red-sauce palace; it went into a death spiral of sporadic crowds and kitchen and service gaps.)

Gran Gusto, shifting the emphasis west from Abruzzo to Naples and the province of Campania, established itself with notable thin-crust pizza. That’s great, but Gran Gusto has a real chef who also has a real talent for seafood, house-made pasta, and even desserts. You can have a luxury dinner here for moderate money, and increasing numbers of diners in-the-know have done so, despite a lack of full-length reviews of the place.

Unfortunately for those patrons, my job is to spoil their private paradise and let readers in on the secret. Bearing that in mind, my first tip is: order the grilled squid ($11). Most of the grilled squid in Boston is deliberately undercooked to keep it tender. Gran Gusto grills the squid a little past that point, so the wonderful taste of fire complements the mild seafood. The chef also scores the bodies in rings and arranges the tentacles very prettily on the plate.

If you still want your calamari tender, have the deep-fried baby octopus and calamari ($11.50). (Octopus is popping up all over in Boston restaurants, which probably says something about the price of local squid.) Both are nicely fried, with a tasty salad underneath. Other options include a frutti di mare appetizer ($11.50), which mixes mussels with littleneck clams in a garlicky sauce without — for once — too much salt, and salmon carpaccio ($11.50), which is cured, I think. It holds together better than raw carpaccio of salmon, and works well with an arugula salad with bits of oranges and sweet dressing.

Privius Lounge

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 21:06:22 GMT

Sashimi for the dancing set
I thought I had Privus figured out based on what owner Jarlath Quinn had done with his popular bar, The Kells, located right next door.

Photo credit: Brook Griffin

I thought I had Privus figured out based on what owner Jarlath Quinn had done with his popular bar, The Kells, located right next door. After watching parties leave that watering hole mid-evening in search of Chinese food, Quinn hired a Chinese chef so that the bar’s patrons could have their lobster in black-bean sauce along with another round of Guinness. Then, when I heard Quinn had hired a chef from Ginza for his new nightspot Privus, I thought, “Okay, parties were leaving for sushi and he figured the same trick would work twice.”

Privus
617.787.7483 |165 Brighton Avenue, Allston | Open daily, 5 pm–1:30 am | AE, MC, VI
Full bar | No valet parking
Sidewalk-level access

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Yes, Privus is a lounge, and it does have quasi-martinis with funny names, and sometimes it has music, but basically this is a serious Japanese-Korean restaurant. The bar is in the shape of a boat. The private booths have ocean-wave-like barriers to make them extra private. The whole place is done up in very techno Japanese black, white, and brown. And chef Jin Kim is the real deal, with the budget for airmail seafood and even imported Japanese mayonnaise.

As the waitress recited the specials of the day — seafood with Japanese names and English translations, available either as sashimi or sushi — it occurred to me to try them all by ordering the “Chef Jin’s special selection” (market price; recently $50). The chef started me off with a cup of miso soup ($2 à la carte). This is thinner, less salty, and more broth-like than other white miso soups, and that’s terrific in my book.

For real connoisseurs, it’s all about sashimi (raw seafood without the rice). Bearing that in mind, Jin took all the special seafood items and put them on a spectacular plate of sashimi. A large Pacific pen shell held thin slices of tairagai (the scallop-like pen shell) interleaved with thin slices of lemon.
Alternating distinctive and light flavors, the next item counterclockwise was four California sea-urchin roe on a leaf of shiso in a tall glass. These were the most deeply flavored uni I’ve ever tasted. Next was yellowtail, a mild white fish. It was light enough to use the accompanying wasabi-ginger-soy dipping materials. O-toro, the richly marbled bluefin tuna belly, was almost as rich in body and flavor as the sea urchin. Next to that were very thin slices of horse mackerel, some decorated with black caviar. Finally, there was Hawaiian wahoo, slices of a fish that seems to lack flake or grain, like tofu but with a lot of taste even when raw.

Benatti

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 22:15:57 GMT

Off the charts, off the map
Even a slice of zucchini makes you want more . . . zucchini. You are perhaps vegan? Order two of these and sneer at the carnivores of the world.

TRIPLE THREAT: A trio of sea scallops wows.

It’s always a gamble to put a good restaurant in a bad place. The bet is that your food will attract people no matter the location. If it pays off, customers will fork over South End prices while you shell out only East Cambridge rent.

Now, Andrea Benatti’s food is wonderful enough to attract people anywhere, and it rightfully commands top dollar (maybe a little less if you stick to the house-made pasta, and many will do just that). But his choice of locale — east of Inman Square, between Midwest Grill and East Cost Grill — is a little dangerous. Fans of those excellent restaurants might notice that some of the bottles of wine at Benatti are, like, quadruple retail. That kind of mark-up requires not only legendary cuisine, but a remote location. (I know a stretch in West Roxbury that would not only fit that bill, and is a lot closer to my house.)

What Benatti (the restaurant) does have in its favor is the undivided attention of Benatti (the chef) and his Brazilian partner Anna Encarnacao, who possibly marks up the wine and chats with the neighbors, and certainly picks outstanding Brazilian background music. By undivided attention, I mean that not only does the chef actually cook, but he painted the art on the wall, talks with the patrons, and fixes anything you don’t like.

For us, other than an undercooked steak and some heavy salt, there was nothing we didn’t adore. Food starts with Tuscan bread and dip in superior extra-virgin olive oil floating on excellent balsamic vinegar. These are also the condiments for the evening’s first masterpiece, a simple appetizer of grilled vegetables ($11). Simple is a deceptive term, because each item on the platter may be the best I’ve ever tasted. This level of grillwork cannot be delegated. Benatti’s grilled red bell pepper is so deeply flavored it could be an entrée. His slice of grilled eggplant is all richness, no bitterness. His two pieces of grilled asparagus redefine the term. His grilled slice of fennel is symphonic — no, operatic. Even a slice of zucchini makes you want more . . . zucchini. You are perhaps vegan? Order two of these and sneer at the carnivores of the world.

Twelve patties, no cake

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 20:52:07 GMT

A burger safari
Can one revive something that is, unlike barbecue, universally American, and steeped in personal nostalgia?

HOMETOWN HERO: The King-Kong Burger at Eagle Deli is a winner.

I love revivalist barbecue joints, but what about revivalist burger palaces? Can one revive something that is, unlike barbecue, universally American, and steeped in personal nostalgia? The first principle of hamburgers was enunciated by Calvin Trillin when, in 1970, he casually told Life magazine that Winstead’s, in his native Kansas City, served the best hamburger in the world. Pressed on this point in a later interview, he explained that “Anyone who doesn’t think his hometown has the best hamburger place in the world is a [now politically incorrect term for an effeminate male].” Of course, after a generation, a revivalist burger place becomes a hometown place, so in 20-odd years or so, someone writing in this space might proclaim B.Good to have the best hamburger in the world.

Now, my own hometown burger place no longer exists, and my objective judgment over many years is that Mr. Bartley’s serves the best burger in Greater Boston. But on my recent burger safari, covering lots of other highly regarded local burgers, things did fall rather neatly into three categories. (I ruled out super-yuppie burgers, Kobe beef burgers, and non-beef burgers.) My standard order was a cheeseburger, cooked medium if asked, and served with French fries, except for one instance in which Mrs. Nadeau arrived first and ordered me sweet-potato fries.

Hometown burgers
Boston isn’t my hometown, so I borrowed writer, electronic-crime expert, and drum-and-bugle-corps revivalist Peter Cassidy, who grew up in my present neighborhood, Jamaica Plain. It quickly emerged that Peter’s rosebud would not be a hamburger, but a meatball sub consumed during a drum-corps rehearsal break. (Ah, meatball subs! Readers are invited to e-mail suggestions for a future safari.) But in fact Peter did have fond memories of SIMCO’S ON THE BRIDGE (1509 Blue Hill Avenue, Mattapan, 617.296.3800), a place known mostly for its hot dogs. Off we went, then, toward Mattapan Square. Simco’s is strictly take-out, so we ate the cheeseburger and fries ($6.52) in Peter’s car. It was a very decent burger: double patty, both well done, with a good balance of beef and char flavors, white processed cheese, white sesame bun, and nothing to interfere with the ketchup, onions, and beef. What impressed were the French fries, which were crusty in a way that suggested the double-frying pommes-soufflé technique and had a custardy smooth inside. The hot dog ($2.86), alas, is apparently not what it used to be.

Jo Jo Taipei

ROBERT NADEAU — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 20:00:39 GMT

Seldom enjoyed; thoroughly enjoyable
The contemporary cuisine of Taiwan, for its part, is influenced by Chinese, Spanish, Dutch, and Japanese colonists.

STEAM DREAM Xiao long bao (steamer of dumplings) is like Peking ravioli with super-juicy insides.
Photo by Brook Griffin.

Taiwan’s culinary situation is as wonderfully confused as its history and politics. It’s part of China, but it is not. Over the past century, Taiwan/Formosa has spent most of its time as a colony of Japan; the second-most time as part of China, but outside the control of the government of China; and the third-most time as the recognized government of China, without actually governing anything on the mainland. For 30,000 years, there were no Han Chinese in Taiwan. Today, they outnumber the indigenous population.

The contemporary cuisine of Taiwan, for its part, is influenced by Chinese, Spanish, Dutch, and Japanese colonists, and most recently by the 1949 immigration of the pre-Communist officials and their cooks, from all the provinces of China. There used to be an argument over whether Taiwan had the best Chinese food; today, there is food that is distinctly Taiwanese. And even that has rapidly changed. Of the characteristic dishes of Taiwan on the menu at Jo Jo Taipei, I could find only one in my trusty 1969–1979 volumes by Fu Pei Mei, the Julia Child of Taiwan at the time.

I started tracking these changes when a helpful reader, Ju Chien Hsu, e-mailed me some pointers after I reviewed one of the first Taiwanese restaurants in Chinatown, 13 years ago. “You must try the Crispy Smelled Bean Curd,” she wrote. “This is uniquely Taiwanese and definitely an acquired taste. (I consider tofu to be the cheese of Chinese cuisine; think of this as one of the rank ones.)” All these years later, I finally found a restaurant that featured the dish on an English-language menu, and took advantage of the suggestion. (Although Jo Jo Taipei has translated almost everything, there is a little blackboard with about six specials in Chinese. Once we ordered enough exotic food, our excellent waitress attempted to explain what they were.)

Each table at Jo Jo Taipei starts with a small dish of Spanish peanuts, and another of a sweet-hot lightly pickled salad, mostly cabbage. Then a waitress comes with a tray of potential appetizers.

Shabu-Zen

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 22:23:03 GMT

The soup is definitely on
A new generation of Japanese water-fondue restaurants has won me over.

TABLE BROTH: The wagyu beef, boneless short-rib, and Seafood Supreme are cooked to order.

I am a reluctant convert to shabu-shabu. My initial reaction to the Japanese version of the Mongolian hot-pot was that boiled foods are bland, and that boiling food at the table is even worse than cooking at home. But a new generation of Japanese water-fondue restaurants has won me over. Not only have these newer places improved the blandness of the broth with flavored pan-Asian choices and sharper dipping condiments, they’ve also increased the complexity of the raw materials.

Plus, I’ve finally mastered the eating and cooking techniques involved. The secret is that the broth at the end is superb, so you want to use the protein and vegetables from the entrées as appetizers, then sate yourself with the soup mixture from the boiling water. Before I learned this trick, I would leave the broth bubbling away on the table cooker. Now I ask for a container to take it home.

With its second location — the first is in Chinatown — Shabu-Zen has refined the process with ceramic heating elements (no fumes) at each table, and added choices in the protein area. Its food selection and presentation is still a bit behind the Chinatown Kaze, but there is much to enjoy here, and this huge space fills up with Asian families even on a weeknight.

If you want formal appetizers, there are dozens, and some are choice and well-priced. Light eaters could skip shabu-shabu altogether. Seaweed salad ($2.50), for instance, is sesame-rich and delicious, as well as healthful. Sautéed baby clams ($6.50) are a wonderful plateful of small calico clams in a gravy-like sauce with some meaty and spicy elements. Baby octopus ($3.95) in a light tomato marinade is tasty. As are “Berkshire sausages” ($5), presumably made from the heritage Berkshire swine. These are four scrumptious breakfast links on a leaf of Napa cabbage, served with mustard.

You could also have a bit of sashimi, but the hamachi (yellowtail) ($6) was served barely thawed. The effect of the cold hamachi was that its fat content registered as a waxy texture. I suspect much of the food here is partially frozen to make easier and neater slices. Indeed, cubes of soft tofu came to the table frozen, and had to be cooked in the soup.

The Publick House

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 21:57:33 GMT

Grab a drink while you wait
The true focus here is the far frontiers of craft brewing, especially the many styles of Belgian ales.

BEER NECESSITIES: Moules frites are just one example of the fine cuisine á la biére.

After hearing that the owners of the Publick House are opening a large barbecue palace a block up away from their current venture in Brookline, I went to check it out. Work on that project is continuing. Meanwhile, the original bar-restaurant is going great, with its unusual menu of Belgian specialties focused on French fries (as are most Belgians) and cuisine à la bière. The true focus here is the far frontiers of craft brewing, especially the many styles of Belgian ales. Those are served promptly in the manufacturer’s glassware, while food can be slow. The Belgian dishes we had were awkwardly flavored; most patrons were enjoying either the excellent frites or more typical pub food, especially in the key of fried.

To start, then, with the draught brews (of which there are 36, along with more than 100 bottles), we tried Affligem Blond ($7), which is actually an amber Belgian ale. I think it’s supposed to be served a little warmer, but it was clean, with the wine-y and unusual flavors of the Belgian style. At seven percent alcohol, it creeps up on you. For the true blond (if somewhat cloudy) pour, I preferred Unibroue Éphémère, a “white ale” brewed with some boiled apple juice. By keeping the alcohol down to 5.5 percent, this Quebec microbrewery gets a cider aroma and flavor, warming to pear and spice.

There are really only two appetizers: Monk’s Frites ($6) and moules frites ($7/appetizer; $14/dinner). These are made with hand-cut Yukon Gold potatoes and served in a paper cone, as they would be in Belgium, with various dips. Some fries are crisp, some are not, and all have wonderful potato flavor. The smaller portion served with the mussels is served in a drinking cone. The mussels are leaner than their shells would imply, which is the norm for the season. There is a choice of five different “pots” for the mussels; we had pot Number 2, based on Affligem Blond, Asiago cheese, tomatoes, spinach, and garlic. We were licking the shells to get all the cheese, then using them for spoons to have the broth. The ale gave it a bitter finish, perhaps best with the grilled garlic bread provided.

Estragon

ROBERT NADEAU — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 21:39:07 GMT

And you thought Taberna de Haro was authentic . . .
A divorce and new partners have put Julio de Haro in the position to open Estragon, a larger restaurant with a 1930s-tapas-bar theme. Nostalgia deepens authenticity, no?

If you thought Brookline’s Taberna de Haro was an authentic tapas bar, you weren’t wrong. However, a divorce and new partners have put Julio de Haro in the position to open Estragon, a larger restaurant with a 1930s-tapas-bar theme. Nostalgia deepens authenticity, no? So does a line of Basque-type specialties and a gourmet store next door, should you want to try this at home. Estragon has Spanish pop music playing, old family photos on the walls, and as much noise as a Madrid tapas bar at midnight — everything but shells on the floor.

Perhaps most remarkably, they serve the real Spanish bread, in paper bags: miniature, pointy-ended loaves that are softer than, though just as flavorful as, genuine French bread. You can have it with the complimentary platter of olives (including giant, ripe red ones never before seen in Boston) and the excellent extra virgin olive oil with tarragon leaves marinating in the bottle.

The menu is all small plates: some are more clearly the bar-snack “pinchos” or “tapas” (literally “lids”), while others are more like appetizers or units of entrées. For snacking, don’t miss the fried garbanzo beans ($4). Although it’s just a little plate, each chickpea has a kick of paprika and garlic. With a catchy name like “Catalan Popcorn,” this could be huge. Another small plate you’ll want several of is the classic tortilla ($4), a slice from a thick potato omelet, here served with a lemony homemade mayonnaise. Asparagus soup ($5) is creamy, full of chopped asparagus, and topped with shredded Manchego cheese. I also liked a special dish of broiled chili peppers ($8), full of concentrated flavor; a couple of the peppers were a bit spicy, too.

To fill up, get something with a sauce, such as the spiced tripe and chorizo ($8), a richly flavored tomato-based stew in the tradition of French tripe à la mode de Caen. Or try the littleneck clams ($14), eight clams in a loaf’s worth of onion-garlic-clam-broth sauce that just won’t quit. Another gravy-bearing stew is squid rings ($9) with Basque blood sausage (better than it sounds; rather like scrapple); the rings were nearly as tender as fish. Marinated mussels ($8) were actually pickled with peppers, carrot, and onion.