Coppa Doesn't Quite Bring Home The Bacon

Coppa feels like the perfect, casual neighborhood dining destination where customers can order relatively affordable, sophisticated fare. Opened now for over two years, and to widespread acclaim, Chefs Ken Oringer (he of Clio, Uni, and Toro fame) and Jamie Bissonette’s (voted Best New Chef by Food & Wine in 2011) Italian-inspired enoteca shows no signs of slowing down, even on what should be a relatively calm Sunday evening. Thankfully, our party has reservations (yes, Coppa now accepts them). Tucked away in the corner of a long stretch of brownstone buildings on Shawmut Ave, Coppa’s laid back setting nicely fits this quaint, cozy neighborhood in Boston’s South End.




Coppa’s interior is intimate, bordering on invasive. The list of menu items outnumbers the tables (seating capacity is for forty), which closely abut one another. The acoustics are incredibly bad, given both the restaurant’s high ceilings and even higher decibel level at which music is blared. One of my friends shouts over that he can barely hear himself speak. Lean back and you might just hit the bar area, with only a few feet separating it from the tables. Waiters nimbly weave by customers, scurrying down a long, narrow hallway leading to one (yes, one!) restroom.



Fortunately, this chaos is offset by some fun, if not consistently executed food. Some elements of dishes work wonderfully, while others do not. You’ll find a see saw of culinary quality here. The menu consists of small plates (Stuzzichini), pasta, salumi, cheeses (from beloved Formaggio Kitchen just across the street) and wood-grilled pizza, with chacuterie being Bissonette’s specialty (i.e. cured meats, pate). While I wish the Meatballs al Forno ($8) were a tad moister, the accompanying tomato gravy was enjoyably hearty and the melted lardo enhanced the meat’s flavor. The piece de resistance, however, is Pig’s Ear ($6). For the more squeamish diners, it’s not as visibly unappealing as you would be led to believe, as it is served in gelatinous, terrine style form and laid atop wonderful yuzu aioli for contrast. It’s a knockout plate. The Tonna Conserve (cured tuna belly, $6), however, is shockingly bland, with nary a hint of flavor emanting from the promising anchovy parmesan vinaigrette. Like several dishes at Coppa, it’s underseasoned. Sadly, its texture is not much of an improvement from my daily Bumblebee tuna, particularly disappointing given the accompanying egg yolk that’s blended in, somewhere. This tuna preparation, pardon my pun, went belly up.



A better, more traditional tuna crudo ($14), however, is spectacular, which boasts a boatload of flavors and textures bolstered by fennel puree, blood orange vinaigrette, miniscule pickles, and a subtly nutty walnut dukkah for crunchy contrast. Also lovely and light is a Insalata di Asparagi ($9), consisting of shaved asparagus, gigantic fava beans, a touch of lemon, and Bianco Sardo (shaved cheese).



Duck prosciutto (part of the salumi assortment, all $10), while wonderful to look at in thinly cut blood-red, mini strips, is once again underseasoned, and could use more salt. Then again, a Panino di Riccio de Mare (sea urchin and salami panino with mustard seeds, $7) is a delightful, surprising treat, comfort food’s worst nightmare come true. The sea urchin, whose slimy, briny texture I typically shy away from, meshes perfectly with the salty crispiness of the bread and the mustard’s spicy heat. Like the aforementioned pig’s ear, it’s a standout.



On the other end of the see-saw, however, lies a colossal misfire. While the ultra-hyped wood-grilled Bone Marrow white pizza ($16) has a crispy, charred texture that any North End pizzeria would envy, it’s a bland, underseasoned (once again lacking salt), slightly over-doughy disappointment. The cheese just limply sits there, and I could not locate a hint of the promised shaved horseradish, which if dutifully applied, would have added contrast in flavor and elevated the pie. The bone marrow and beef heart are innovatively applied yet wasted and tasteless here. The Sicilian Fisherman Pizza ($16) is loaded with plump fried calamari on steroids, tomato, parmesan, and cherry peppers which add intense, welcomed heat. The women at the table fawn over the dish. The calamari, while tasty, overwhelm the pizza like the Blob overtakes an unfortunate small town. The calamari are better suited on their own.



Pasta dishes are also hit-or-miss. The Spaghetti alla Carbonara ($20) is a rich, creamy blend of house made pasta with smoked pancetta (which adds a nice crisp to the dish), sea urchin, peas and farm egg. While good, it’s far from excellent. It is – wait for it – a bit underseasoned and possesses more of a chicken stock flavor than the smoky flavor I anticipated. A better bet is the Linguine Nero ($22), with house made squid ink pasta with lobster, black garlic, tomato, and wonderful Castelvetrano olives whose tartness is a perfect counter to the crustacean’s sweetness. Another winning, albeit traditional dish is the Pollo alla Milanese ($14), a small plate of incredibly sweet and crispy chicken.



Cocktails range from apertivo (sweet, tart, and slightly bitter flavors) to secondi (savory, spicy) to shandy (beer cocktails). While Italian Sangria is excessively spicy yet not remotely sweet due to a whopping inclusion of anise, a refreshing glass of Aperol (a sweet, slightly tart liquor that is 26% alcohol) over ice hits the spot. It’s even more refreshing to see an establishment stock this type of liquor, which is rarely served in restaurants nowadays. Drink slowly, however, as the glasses in which the drinks are mixed are rather small.



Overall, Coppa earns positive marks for its unique cuisine in a non-pretentious atmosphere. As hectic and cramped as the environment is, service is surprisingly polished, courteous, and efficient. Dishes are promptly replaced. Water glasses are immediately refilled. Questions are cordially answered. There are winners on this menu, but simply not enough of them. This may sound pigheaded to the masses who have showered praise upon Coppa, but my feeling is that the restaurant must improve upon the consistency, execution and seasoning of its food. Otherwise, Coppa – a restaurant aptly named in Italian after salumi made from pork- will never truly bring home the bacon.

Casa B Makes You Feel at Home

Mi casa es su casa, no? Not Necessarily, amigo mio. Casa B, a new tapas restaurant that opened in December, 2011 to instant adulation, is one of those places whose eclectic cuisine and ambience is so infectious that you selfishly won’t want to share them with others. Co-owners Alberto Cabre and Angelina Jockovich respectively hail from San Juan, Puerto Rico and Barranquilla, Colombia, and their establishment nails its intended Latin-American/Caribbean fusion concept. Somerville’s Union Square doesn’t necessarily shout dining destination, but with the arrival of Casa B, it should now be considered a must-visit spot on every foodie’s map.

Casa B’s conception is an interesting one. Cabre and Jockovich took ideas and recipes from their personal chef catering business, created a test kitchen four years ago to refine them, and ultimately created a restaurant that reflected the heart and soul of their homelands. Casa B’s name also has familial significance, as the ‘B’ honors Cabre’s maternal grandfather, whose last name was Bobonis.

The restaurant’s atmosphere is modern, hip, and romantic. It’s not the largest of spaces, set on two levels. Upstairs you’ll find a narrow, somewhat cramped hallway littered with a few tables against the wall, while a few seats only a stone’s throw away allow customers to imbibe on wine or cocktails should the downstairs bar area be full. And that’s exactly where I would recommend making a straight beeline towards. Casa B’s downstairs dining area nostalgically reminded me of a secluded bar I often frequented during my study abroad in Seville, Spain (and which was built as a secret haven for artists during the country’s deplorable Franco regime). Live plants are plastered against the room’s back wall, a wine rack is strategically placed in the room’s center (serving as a partition between the cozy bar/lounge area and the intimate dining room), and from loveseats at a counter, a handful of customers can view their meals being prepared in the open kitchen. Bright red and white colors adorn the walls (even the immaculate pair of upstairs restroom walls pack bright green and red colors). Yes, Casa B, with all due respect to crooner Justin Timberlake, is bringing sexy back to Somerville.

Casa B’s menu consists entirely of small plates known as tapas and pinchos, finger food intended for sharing (between two to three plates per person are recommended). Miniature forks and knives are playfully, almost jokingly provided to those who are less inclined to use their hands. Traditional tapas are cast aside here. Instead, tortilla Espanola (Spanish omelet made with eggs and potatoes) is served with sweet plantain (tortilla de maduros, $7). Shrimp with garlic is substituted with yucca-filled shrimp wrapped in bacon (camarones rellenos de yucca, $12) and delectable cilantro-ginger dipping sauce. Patatas bravas (fried potatoes) transform into yucca fries doused with a zesty, bright orange sauce (salsa de la abuela/Grandma’s ketchup), vertically served in a cone-shaped cup. Tradition with a twist.

Tabla de ceviches ($18) is a beautifully plated trio of lobster, salmon, and cod served on a wooden board. Each fish is laced with intense flavors of lime and peas, and their texture wonderfully contrasts with the crunch of root vegetable chips. It’s a knockout of a dish. Crispy avocado rolls (rollitos de aguacate, $8) are also fun and quite addictive, accompanied by a prune and cilantro sauce. The lone, albeit minor misstep of the evening is grilled Spanish sausage with yucca (chorizo a la plancha, $9). Unlike its crispier, comfort-food like yucca fries counterparts, these yuccas are boiled and somewhat limp, and the accompanying coconut sauce is surprisingly bland, adding minimal flavor. This disappointing dish, however, is quickly offset by hearty meatballs (albondigas, $9), served in a semi-sweet, dreamy guava sauce. They’re incredibly moist, and I left Casa B dreaming about what wonderful sauce. Guava must be the new Latin-Caribbean aphrodisiac.

A special of puertorrican pot roast (carne mechada, $18) contains pillowy gnocci made from yucca, while the meat, soaked in brown butter sauce, is mouthwateringly tender. Sesame crusted tuna (atun salteado, $12) is perfectly rare and the balance struck in this dish – the heat from spicy wasabi and the sweetness of plantain – represents all of the elements that Casa B masterfully juggles and pulls off without breaking a tropical sweat.

Desserts do not disappoint, either. Tres leches (three milk cake, $10) comes highly recommended, but sounds so, well, pase given all else that we’ve eaten. Instead, we try coconut and chocolate bread pudding ($9), once again drizzled with that oh-so-good guava sauce. It’s the perfect confectionary conclusion to a marvelous dining experience.

Casa B has several interesting varieties of Spanish, Chilean, and Argentine wines, along with cava and sherry, but honestly, why waste your time when potent house-made sangria, served from a giant terrine, and one of the finest versions I’ve sampled since my tine in Seville, is available? The menu also boasts another couple dozen cocktails, my favorite being the Bartender’s Choice ($10), whereby you provide barman Taso Papatsoris with your favorite liquour and he proceeds to incorporate it into a surprise concoction. My preference, a vanilla-like Spanish Licor 43, evolves into an inventive, sweet-tart margarita.

Service is attentive, albeit a but unpolished, particularly at the meal’s conclusion, whereby coffee arrives well after desserts are served, leftovers from two plates are mistakenly lumped together into one bag, and the check’s arrival takes longer than one would hope (although, lest we forget, we are on Caribbean time, after all).

At the beginning and end of our meal, Jockovich politely rests her hand on my shoulder, as if greeting and parting ways with an old friend. I soon realize it’s a genuine gesture she provides to everyone who enters her establishment, and it is so refreshing to see such warmth in an often cutthroat industry. For her, Casa B is most certainly su casa, and her home most definitely maintains a special place in my heart.

Bondir is Worth the Wait

Opening to universal, almost ungodly acclaim in November, 2010, Bondir undoubtedly comes with lofty dining expectations. Thankfully, chef/owner Jason Bond’s (formerly executive chef at Beacon Hill Bistro) little (and by little, I mean roughly 25 seats) gem of a French-inspired restaurant not only met, but exceeded my expectations. His cooking technique, execution, and passion for local, seasonal, and sustainable fare are awe-inspiring and evident in every dish. There’s nothing pretentious about his plating (culinary theatrics such as liquid nitrogen need not apply), but merely a mind-bending focus on unique ingredients that elevate simple dishes to grandiose heights.

The bistro is tucked away on a more remote, quieter side of Central Square in Cambridge (blink and you’ll pass by it on Broadway Street). Behind a curtained entryway, you’ll find a smug little waiting area – complete with log chairs – warmed by a brick fireplace. Antique wood benches are built into white and green colored walls. A small flower romantically resides on each table, while plates are decorated with floral and fruit patterns. A painting of a pig amusedly adorns the back wall. So this is what dining in an intimate, romantic French bistro must feel like.

Bread, baked daily in-house, nicely kick-starts our meal. From 9-grain, to Caraway Rye, to a most unique variety called The Sea (containing seaweed, dried shrimp, and black squid ink), these are some of the best loaves I’ve tasted since be treated to L’Espalier’s expansive, renowned bread service years ago in its former, more romantic location on Gloucester Street. Bondir also graciously offers all of its dishes in half plate or full portions (all $16/$30), a gesture most welcomed to those like myself who yearn to sample multiple dishes. My dining companion and I decide on five plates (between five and six come recommended for two people), which are well-placed and intelligently split into three separate courses.

We begin with Rhode Island Fluke Sashimi, perfect in its not-too-rubbery texture, along with its potent flavor, which packs subtle traces of heat attributed to dabs of chili syrup and black garlic. The next serving consists of hand-rolled cavatelli with venison ragu, cooked in rich red wine and cocoa nibs. While the dish is relatively solid (the pasta is perfectly cooked al dente), it’s slightly disappointing, particularly due to the fact that the ragu isn’t nearly as hearty as I expected, the venison has more of a dried-out, nuggety consistency, and the intense flavoring from the cocoa nibs I anticipated is barely discernible. Scituate scallops, on the other hand, are a revelation. Three plump, perfectly seared crustacean are served with cauliflower, Mutsu apple, and terrific pickled cranberries - which take on the appearance of small tomatoes – for tart contrast. The scallops are also topped with sage froth, which not only adds visual flair, but also provides a subtly sweet flavoring to the dish.

Next, a moist piece of roasted capon (a gamier, stronger flavored alternative to the poussin chicken also available on the menu) is neatly stacked atop a scrumptious, inventive trio of white flint cornmeal cake, kumi kumi squash and black lentils. Westport Dexter Beef Short Ribs are also tender, and laced with a light, sweet cider glaze. Unlike the capon, however, its sides of wild rice with currants and saffron spiced purple carrots don’t quite mesh as well while the carrots are slightly undercooked.

Desserts (all $10, while sorbets and ice creams come in at $8) provide a creative, delicious conclusion to the meal. Westport Winter Sunchokes, in name, sound dreadful, but its moist gingerbread cake with olive-oil caramel, lemon mouseline and apple leather are heavenly, if not a tad too sweet. And if strawberry fields are forever, how about tangerine dreams? The namesake dessert, which consists of sponge cake, vermouth-infused tangerine, and meringue brulee, delights my sweet tooth. My companion found the concoction excessively sweet, but I politely disagreed, although the accompanying thyme-buttermilk ice cream, while refreshing, was a bit superfluous given the richness of all the remaining ingredients.

For all of the imaginative dishes on display at Bondir, don’t expect an equally creative cocktail menu to boot. Wine and beer are all that is available here, although the selections are well-thought out and the majority are reasonably priced (such as a lovely bottle of Urbans-hof German Riesling for $39). Aside from a minor hiccup at the outset (our waitress disappeared for a few minutes shortly after checking in on us), service as knowledgeable, pleasant, and extremely well-paced. Chef Bond later visited us tableside to check in on our experience, another welcomed, sincere touch.

Throughout our meal, several diners commented on how grateful they were to have finally secured reservations at this quaint, cozy establishment after months of futile attempts. Laughter, conversations, and wine openly flowed from table to table, as if we were all communally sharing this intimate experience. Yes, Bondir is indeed a dining destination worth waiting for, and I can’t wait to frequent Chef Bond’s highly appealing bistro again, and soon.

Say Hello to Hola

For foodies residing on the South Shore, why travel to Boston’s acclaimed Toro when one can feast on well-prepared, innovative tapas and scrumptious flatbreads at Marshfield’s Hola? Tucked away in a rear parking lot in Library Plaza just off of busy Route 139, the restaurant feels like a secluded dining spot that – like a glass of fine Jimenez sherry – you can enjoy just for yourself.

And yet, upon entering into this warm establishment through a set of curtains, you quickly realize that you can’t have Hola all to yourself. Even on an early Thursday evening, Hola’s social scene is already in high gear. Hand-painted walls create a relaxing, fun ambience (there’s also a large fireplace on the outside patio, perfect for late summer/early fall visits).

The only evident drawback of the evening is Hola’s substandard cocktails. A mojito arrives with far too much rum and virtually no sugar (although our server politely brings back an improved version), a Dark and Stormy is equally overwrought with rum, while on the other end of the spectrum, a white sangria – which should be considered a staple at any tapas establishment – is excessively bland in taste (lemonade and wine do not a fine sangria make) and possesses nary a hint of fruit. For concoctions ranging from $8-9, one expects better. Instead, sample more authentic drinks hailing from Spain like the addictive Licor 43 (a vanilla liquer), Pedro Ximenez Lustau sherry (very sweet), or a subtle, light, highly drinkable glass of Rioja Crianza ($9). There are roughly 30 affordable varieties of wine hailing from Spain, Argentina, Italy, and California, about two-thirds of them red, nearly half available by the glass (most between $6-8), and the majority coming in at under $30 per bottle.

As for the food itself, Hola confidently hits its stride with its unique cold tapas. One of the most pleasant surprises of the evening, an option not even on my radar, was a delightful dish of spiced grapes (laced with cinnamon), marcona almonds, goat cheese, and anise crisps ($6.50). It’s a dish packed with many seemingly off-kilter ingredients that somehow strike a balance between texture and flavor. Charred rare beef with sherried figs and blue cheese ($9.50) is also solid, blending together sweetness and tartness. Ceviche-style tuna ($9.50) – which when done improperly can come off as tasting excessively fishy – is perfectly seasoned with mango vinegar, chili aioli, and accompanied by spicy cabbage for a crunchy contrast.

Hot tapas fare almost equally as well. The most noteworthy dish of the evening that had everyone in their seats wondering aloud: How did they (the kitchen) do that (in terms of flavoring)? was the fried calamari with hot and sweet chili vinaigrette ($9). The calamari were perfectly crisped on the outside, succulent on the inside, and possessed some of the best sugary-spicy seasoning I’ve ever experienced with any dish. This was an absolute knockout, and had me clamoring for more once every last crustacean was devoured. Almost equally as good were the curry fried green beans with a lemon aioli dipping sauce ($6) to counter the curry’s heat. Other standout dishes included addictive roasted dates and bacon ($7) with – yes, once again – that sensational mango vinegar, each of which I dreamed about popping into my mouth late into the evening if only I was afforded the opportunity. Grilled shrimp with smoked paprika and lemon ($9), while less adventurous, was a well-executed dish, as were chicken empanadas with corn and black beans ($7.50). Succulent lamb was perfectly cooked and memorable.

A potato torta (akin to a Spanish omelet) with romesco sauce ($6.50) was a disappointment, laced with far too few potatoes, too much cheese, and topped with an unflattering looking dollop of unremarkably flavored romesco sauce. While the coffee and chipotle rubbed steak with fried potato wedges ($12) was decent enough, there was not enough coffee in the rub itself to elevate the dish from merely good to great.

Flatbreads were also exceptional for the most part, just light enough and perfectly crisped to allow for sampling several versions. Noteworthy, innovative selections included smoky garlic shrimp/roasted peppers/scallion and saffron aioli/queso fresco ($11.50), spinach/red onion/hot cherry peppers/asiago ($9), and my personal favorite with figs/prosciutto/gorgonzola ($11), a dish that winningly combined sweet and salty elements. The only misfires here were an unflatteringly tasting eggplant/roasted red peppers/fried garlic/queso fresco ($9.50) and a surprisingly bland mushrooms/butternut squash/manchego/truffle oil ($11).

The evening concluded with a decadent duo of desserts, beginning with – what else? – another flatbread, this time layered with crème anglaise and fresh berries. Churros were prepared in an untraditional, yet inspiring fashion. In lieu of arriving in long, narrow strips, they were served beignet-style, each with a wonderfully hot, crispy exterior (other versions suffer from excess amounts of doughiness) resting atop a warm, gooey chocolate sauce.

With its courteous, attentive, eager-to-please wait staff, reasonable prices, and eclectic, frequently exciting cuisine, you’ll never want to say goodbye to Hola.

Good Fortune at Myers and Chang

Spanish tapas, those delicious miniature delicacies long available at restaurants such as Ken Oringer’s acclaimed Toro and South Shore’s Loco, have unfortunately become a bit of a culinary cliché. If you’re looking to spice up your dining options, head over to Myers and Chang, which offers innovative, flavorful tapas courtesy of the Far East. The restaurant is helmed by husband and wife/restauranteur and chef superduo Christopher Myers and Joanne Chang, who opened their funky, upscale indie dim sum diner in Boston’s South End neighborhood back in 2008.

The ambience is trendy, to be sure, but Myers and Chang’s proprietors don’t take themselves too seriously, either. Take, for instance, the venue’s mirrored walls with playful, handwritten messages, as well as a giant dragon lurking across its windows. Diners are indeed in for a good old straightforward fortune here: fun. There is, however, one caveat: be prepared to shout across the table to your eating companions, as tables are tightly packed together in this surprisingly small space (are the owners trying to re-create China itself?), while indie music blares loudly.

The menu offers creative takes on traditional Chinese, Thai, and Vietnamese specialties. Each dish, our server explains, is made fresh to order and served immediately once it hits the plate, so be prepared to eat items out of order. Herbs and spices are abundant and enliven many selections. Sharing several small, affordable plates is highly encouraged. Ah, communal dining at its finest.

A mid-sized bar and open kitchen are located at the back of the room, perfect for viewing one’s food being prepared as well-coiffed singles and couples smile and sip on nicely crafted cocktails including sake sangrias and one of the finest muddled mint mojitos you’ll ever have.

Although sharing s encouraged, you may not want to part with some of the dim sum selections, including a comforting bowl of iridescent orange-colored butternut squash and coconut soup with 5-spice charred wild mushrooms ($7). It’s creamy (but not heavy) and instantly craveable, is punctuated with hints of lemongrass and chili, and is accompanied by crunchy fired kimchi balls (perfect for dipping and contrast). Less inspiring is esti’s hot & sour soup with fresh shitakes, pork, and local tofu ($5), which consists of a broth neither spicy nor tart enough to inspire anything more than slight acknowledgement from Esti Parson herself (for whom the soup is named, a local restauranteur and close friend of the owners). Silky soft braised pork belly buns ($9) with bao, brandy hoisin, and house pickle are also memorable. A friend of mine initially expresses reluctance upon ordering tiger’s tears ($11) given the menu’s disclaimer about its high level of spiciness. He’s happily brought to tears, however, after realizing how delicious this complex blend of grilled steak (served cold), thai basil, lime, and khao koor really is. Island creek clams with housemade black bean sauce and infused with sake ($12) are wonderfully smoky and fresh. My wife expresses mild disappointment in the dish, but I find it bordering on spectacular given all its nuanced flavors.

Under the ‘…and then some’ portion of the menu, which consists of slightly larger portions, the tea-smoked pork spare ribs ($14) are a carnivore’s delight, the perfect sweet and sticky meaty combination. Also highly enjoyable is chef Chang’s playful take on a Southern delicacy of fried chicken and waffles ($17), inserting a ginger-sesame waffle (which will definitely make you leggo your Eggo) and swapping out maple syrup for hot and sweet sauce. It instantly makes me reconsider having breakfast for dinner. The lone misstep of the evening was a heavy, rather bland-tasting noodle dish of beef and broccoli chow fun ($15).

Desserts (all $7) are not to be missed, particularly given Chang’s notoriety for her confectionary concoctions at her nearby Flour bakery. Coconut cream pie with lime whipped cream is an airy, divine delight. “ancient Chinese secret” chocolate mousse – dairy-free, no less – is wonderfully dense and shouldn’t be kept hidden from the public any longer. It’s laced with miniature tasty 5-spice merungues. Lemon-ginger mousse coupe is too tart and curd-like in texture for my taste, but is accompanied by a crunchy homemade fortune cookie.

Service is surprisingly good given the somewhat cramped and chaotic setting. Our waitress’s recommendations are spot-on, her knowledge of the entire menu is extensive, and she is extremely attentive to all of our needs and requests, as evidenced by her repeated spot checks with my wife to ensure that the meal met her expectations given her dairy allergy. Confuscius says, “Superior service makes for very happy customers, indeed.”

So, too, do the reasonable prices for such delicious fare. With dim sum dishes averaging $8-10, and none of the larger dishes exceeding $16, you can enjoy a sultan’s feast at Myers and Chang, particularly when dining with other adventurous couples who are equally eager to sample unique dishes. Don’t forget, however, to tack on an additional $12 for parking in an adjacent lot due to no valet parking and little, if any metered parking alongside Washington Street.
As Chef Chang brought out our plate of clams early on, I announced in jest to the table, “We have a celebrity in our presence.” Chang laughed along with us, politely asked us if we were enjoying ourselves, and proceeded to chat with other customers about their dining experience. It was a pleasant, casual exchange that perfectly embodied what makes Myers and Chang so appealing. Like that wonderful sauce accompanying those chicken and waffles, the restaurant not only remains hot right now in Boston’s dining scene but also packs lots of genuine sweetness.

Zebra’s Earns its Stripes

Have you ever been to a restaurant that wasn’t at all what you expected? And in a good way? Zebra’s Bistro and Wine Bar, located on North Main Street in Medfield, surprised me on multiple levels. From its trendy interior, to its eclectic, New American cuisine, to its superior service, and mind you, all at a reasonable price point, this Metrowest suburban hotspot made me feel as if I were dining in Boston, less the distance and parking valet fees.

If you can overlook the restaurant’s confusing parking situation (the back parking lot cannot be accessed from North Main Street itself but a street over), Zebra’s does not disappoint, particularly in ambience. The entryway opens into an expansive lounge and bar area, packed with affluent suburbanites sipping and smiling the evening away. Who knew Medfield was such a happening town? A short walk leads to a smaller private dining area on the right-hand side, and then to the main dining room, which boasts walls splashed with warm, welcoming hues of orange and yellow and are adorned with several paintings. Several tables are surrounded by yellow and black embroidered chairs resembling zebra stripes (get it?). The room comes off as casual, yet cool.

As for the food, it’s innovative and most often, delicious. Take, for instance, the appetizers, which included pulled pork tostadas with guacamole and pepper jack cheese ($9.95), a unique, fun take on the traditional Mexican dish that left me scraping every last morsel off of my plate. Arancini (risotto stuffed with mozzarella and prosciutto, served with pomodoro sauce, for $10.95) was almost equally as good.

Thin crust pizzas utilized different ingredients as well, such as the promising lobster and black fig mission pizza with aged blue cheese, roasted corn and scallion essence ($19.95). While I applaud Zebra’s kitchen for employing such bold flavors, the pie was overpoweringly sweet and dense for my taste, as I could only muster a couple of bites. It was far too ‘busy’ of a dish and a mild disappointment.

Entrees, however, put the kitchen back on track. Beef short ribs over horseradish mashed potatoes ($24.95) were not only plentiful, but also packed tremendous flavor and tenderness, unlike several versions I’ve tasted (the meat was soaked in red wine for 24 hours ahead of time). In lieu of a traditional side of rice, saffron paella was served over risotto accompanied by generous, fresh portions of shrimp, clams, mussels, salmon, and spicy chorizo (a steal at $24.95). My only minor quibble with the dish was that the saffron itself was barely detectable (although our server did warn us about this, and given my experience with saffron, large amounts would need to be incorporated into the dish to make a dent flavor-wise).

For dessert, a seasonal pumpkin cake with buttercream frosting ($7), provided to Zebra’s fresh that day from the bakery across the street, was a comforting conclusion to our meal.

Service at Zebra’s bordered on spectacular. Our server was pleasant, patient, and extremely knowledgeable of the entire menu. She walked us through a reasonably priced, extensive wine selection that included roughly seventy red and fifty white varieties. A bottle of 2007 Hahn Estates (produced in Monterey) provided tremendous value at $39 for this smooth, subtle Bordeaux/Meritage blend. Several other seasonal cocktails included the Red Delicious (cherry bourbon, apple liquer, Chambord, and cranberry, served straight up). About a dozen beer selections as well as cold sake for the more adventurous drinkers are also featured.

Zebra’s owners, upon opening its doors in 1999, sought to re-capture the vibrant, intimate feel of the South End neighborhood they previously inhabited. Given their establishment’s convenient location, commendable fare, and outstanding service, I’d say they’ve accomplished their mission. Zebra’s makes Paul’s Palate’s taste buds – to paraphrase musician Prince – party like it’s 1999.

Seasons Greetings from Summer Winter

No matter the season, Summer Winter will surely please any foodie’s palate, particularly Paul’s Palate. Owners Clark Frasier and Mark Gaier, the dynamic culinary duo behind highly acclaimed Maine eatery, Arrows, made shockwaves in the Boston dining scene a few years ago, not only because of their decision to open their sister restaurant in the Greater Boston area, but by taking a risk by doing so in a Burlington-based Marriott, of all places. While the restaurant clearly lacks Arrows’ romantic ambience given its suburban setting (oddly located behind an Irish pub within the hotel), it more than accounts for with its freshly prepared, innovative fare.

True to the restaurant’s name, the modern American menu boasts seasonal, locally produced items. In fact, diners can openly view many of the herbs, vegetables, and spices that are incorporated into their meals by peeking at the on-site greenhouse residing at the back of the dining room (that’s a plus, given the modern-looking, yet relatively non-descript hotel interior sans a couple of pictures of produce adorning the walls). And oh, do these ingredients ever take center stage. Frasier and Gaier certainly utilize a unique array of them, but in a restrained, technically sound manner.

Take, for instance, small bites (a steal at $3.50 apiece) that include ‘Strange Flavored’ Eggplant served with warmed pita bread, a hummus-like spread in texture with hints of Thai spices. It’s a revelatory dish that had my wife and I licking every last drop off of our plates and craving more. Sweet and sour roasted cipollini’s (onions) and mushrooms with Arrows Bacon also popped with flavor, although I wished more of than a half dozen small morsels of the wonderfully smoked meat adored the plate to offset the acidity of the vegetables. Tuna tartar ($16) was the lone, albeit minor misstep foodwise. The tuna on its own was underseasoned, but when paired with Middle Eastern spiced onions and cumin yogurt, showed notable improvement. The accompanying garden frisee was nothing more than superfluous, dried-out lettuce.

Entrees truly showcased Frasier and Gaier’s culinary talents and aspirations. If you think the brown sugar and rhubarb brined pork chop ($28) slathers these ingredients atop the meat, you’d be missing the point. These ingredients are cooked into the meat, making for one of the most moist, smoky, and perfectly grilled chops you’ll find in this area. A side starch of Mom’s corn custard is as mouth-wateringly appealing as it sounds and likely better than anything produced out of your own mother’s kitchen (my apologies if I have offended any mothers reading this article, mine included). This concoction resembles cornbread, only far less cakey and much moister, with actual pieces of corn cooked directly into the custard. It could just as easily pose as dessert, and like the aforementioned eggplant, left me seeking more. Another stellar dish included the MC Whole Fried Trout ($26), impressively de-boned and layered with sesame seeds, scallions, and a surprisingly subtle, well-flavored Chinese black bean sauce. It’s lovely to look at and even lovelier to eat. Who needs a romantic setting when food this sexy is served tableside?

Desserts are equally inspired, particularly a blueberry upside down cake with lemon mousse ice cream and blueberry sauce (with fresh blueberries tucked into the small scoop of ice cream). The moist cake thankfully not as dense as it sounds, but surely is as decadent.

Service was relatively smooth with the exception of bringing out an incorrect entrée, mistaking my pork chop for a ribeye. The General Manager ultimately came out, profusely apologized, and generously comped not only my meal but our desserts. With that said, by the time she approached our table, my wife had nearly finished her trout, but she proceeded to offer to take back the dish and cook up a new one, an offer that should have been extended immediately after my ribeye dish was removed). Cocktails, too, priced at $12, were a major disappointment, particularly promising Sangria with fresh spices that possessed little, if any flavor. Stick with wine selections, from which there are 150 to choose, many of which are reasonably priced.

If you can’t make your way to Arrows in Maine, then Summer Winter is a nice consolation prize. Its hotel setting may not be fashionable, but inspired cuisine at affordable prices always is, no matter the season.