What better way to experience the culinary wonders of Tuscany, Italy than by way of Providence, RI? Seriously. Siena, located in the heart of Federal Hill on Atwells Ave, delivers finely executed dishes which are heavily influenced by the Tuscan region. Six years after the restaurant’s opening, owners Anthony and Chris Tarro, who grew up in Warwick, RI, have transformed their passion for authentic Italian food and created a menu constituted of what they term Tuscan soul food. Consistently voted Best Restaurant by RI Monthly Readers’ poll, does Siena live up to its esteemed billing?
Siena’s ambience is as warm as Tuscany’s climate. The dimly-lit restaurant’s color scheme includes walls splashed with terra cotta red, yellow, orange, brown, and green hues. An elongated bar with cheetah print seats welcomes customers inside, while a relaxed back room provides a more private, intimate setting.
The Tarro brothers take authentic Tuscan cuisine seriously. Much of their cuisine utilizes regional ingredients such as beans and olive oil, while also incorporating unique cooking methods such as wood grilling.
Appetizers, which average $7-16, were relatively strong. Funghi Portabello ai Ferri ($9) included two generous, meaty grilled portabello mushroom caps baked with goat cheese, caramelized onions, roasted peppers, and crispy pancetta wheels, whose saltiness nicely balanced the cheese’s tartness. It’s a gorgeously executed and well-plated dish. Equally impressive was a visually stunning Caprese salad ($10), which included yellow and red tomatoes stacked high with mozzarella cheese, basil and baby arugula while topped with gorgonzola cheese and balsamic reduction. Zuppa di Vongole Bianco ($10) included littleneck clams sautéed in a white wine, garlic, and fresh herb broth. While the crustaceans were well cooked, the excessively salty broth rendered the garlic crostini unsuitable for dipping.
Generous portions of pasta can be had for very reasonable prices ($17-19). Schiaffoni del Calzolaio ($17) may not have been all that pretty to look at (the tubular shaped pasta are limply layered atop one another), but the combination of ground sausage, San Marzano tomatoes, white wine, crushed red pepper, herbs, and Pecorino-Romano sauce made for a complex, satisfying dish.
Chicken and pork dishes range from $15-19, while Carni (meat) dishes run from $19-29. Costoletta di Vitello ($29) included a heaping 16 oz. wood-grilled veal chop with crimini mushroom, sherry, and veal demi-glaze. Overall, the dish was more than adequate, although I personally didn’t taste the level of smokiness and char that usually accompanies these types of dishes. The meat was also a tad fatty and could have benefitted from a side of starch as opposed to green beans (albeit tasty ones). The Mazo di Giusepe ($29) featured a 16 oz. Black Angus sirloin with sea salt and grilled over hardwood charcoal. The tender meat was perfectly flavored and cooked, and benefitted from a drizzle of Tuscan olive oil as well as a pouring of warm gorgonzola cream sauce. Creative sides that serve 2-4 customers ($4/9) include Pisseli e Prosciutto, tender baby peas sautéed with Prosciutto di Parma.
Desserts (all $7) include Scripelle con Gelato, which features two miniature fried doughboys dusted with cinnamon sugar and served with vanilla bean gelato and warm Nutella spread. It’s a fun, comforting delicious treat. Siena also serves up its popular Budino di Panettone, bread pudding with Italian almond panetone (sweet bread) and served with amaretto, bourbon, brown sugar, and butter glaze.
Cocktails range from $8-10, and two standouts include a potent housemade sangria ($8) and a sparkling grape martini ($9), which blends grape vodka, proscecco, and cranberry juice. Siena also boasts an extensive wine list revolving around approximately fifty reds and another fifty whites from multiple countries and regions including Italy, France, New Zealand, Australia, Sonoma, and Napa. Most wines are reasonably priced ($35-50), while others veer to moderate price points ($85-95). Half bottles ($26-49) are also available, while handfuls of Interesting Red and White wines are promoted.
Service was excellent. Our meal was well paced, while our server was extremely knowledgeable, patient, and amiable.
Overall, Siena scores high for value. Its cuisine is better than much of what is produced in Boston’s North End, at only a fraction of the cost. Complimentary valet parking only boosts the restaurant’s stock. You may not be dining directly under the Tuscan sun at Siena, but it is certainly close enough.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Incontro Lacks the Midas Touch
Incontro, Franklin’s acclaimed upscale/casual restaurant and lounge, had plenty of hype to live up to prior to my arrival. Glowing testimonials from family and friends alike heightened both my anticipation level and taste buds, and I was cautiously excited about sampling its regionally inspired Italian cuisine.
Incontro’s ambience can be best described as uniquely modern, only because the venue itself resides in the newly restored Brookdale Mill, which was originally constructed in 1883. An expansive 14,000 square foot space is set on two floors, the second of which boasts an intimate lounge area – plush leather seats included – encompassing a sleek, elongated bar that leads into a large billiards area. The scene here shouts trendy/casual: it’s a place where people want to be seen but let their hair down all at once. A more formal setting awaits downstairs in the main dining room (or as Incontro’s owners fancily label it, the meeting room), which features a display kitchen in which diners can view their food being prepared.
For starters, the crispy calamari were well executed and drizzled with lemon aioli, pine nuts, kalamata olives, and hot peppers. A tad less aioli and a small infusion of peppers would have better balanced the otherwise finely prepared dish to an even higher standard. Pistachio encrusted boar (resembling two large pieces of KFC but oh, so much more appealing) came with a trio of sweet and spicy dipping sauces and was a standout dish. The meat was moist and tender, whereas many versions come out gamey and tough. The dish evoked a couple of “Mmm, this is delicious,” moments from our dining companions. So far, so good.
Entrees, however, surprisingly fared far worse. My maple glazed pork ($24) came highly recommended by our server, but I found the meat to be woefully overcooked, dry, and oversalted, almost eliminating any semblance of maple flavor on the palate. A shame, given that the accompanying crispy green beans and heavenly light sweet potato mashed were winning sides. Our friends’ steaks (one filet mignon Oscar and a sirloin strip) were cooked to my liking of medium rare. The only problem was that both had requested theirs cooked medium. Clearly, Incontro’s kitchen staff that evening was not well educated on the importance of Meat Preparation 101.
Dessert offered up a small reprieve. A generous slice of carrot cake was moist, not too dense, and possesses a pleasant, not overpoweringly sweet cream cheese frosting. My molten chocolate cake was decadent and gooey enough, although not any more memorable than countless versions I’d previously consumed. The biggest disappointment of the dessert was the fig gelato, which had more hints of coffee flavor to it than fig. The faint traces of fig I was able to detect were located in a small, isolated area of the gelato jammed with figs.
Service was good but far from exceptional. Water glasses were routinely filled and plates hastily removed by competent and polite busboys, while our server was affable enough. But our waitress faltered on a key recommendation (the aforementioned pork dish) and it was one of the busboys, not the server, who responded to a dairy inquiry on the calamari only after it was served tableside.
On its website, Incontro’s owners, Bridge Restaurant Group, claims that its prices are reasonable enough to attract repeat business. With cocktails averaging $11, wines from $9-15, most appetizers exceeding $12 and entrees ranging from $25-50, that statement is certainly up for debate, particularly given its suburban setting (although complimentary valet parking does help a bit). For these prices, Paul’s Palate expects a feast for a king. On my restaurant royalty scale, however, Incontro’s fare is just that: fair, food fit not for a king, but more for a prince, perhaps even a pauper. Despite its glamorous setting, it is Incontro’s failures in the kitchen that prevent the restaurant’s glitter from translating into gourmet gold.
Incontro’s ambience can be best described as uniquely modern, only because the venue itself resides in the newly restored Brookdale Mill, which was originally constructed in 1883. An expansive 14,000 square foot space is set on two floors, the second of which boasts an intimate lounge area – plush leather seats included – encompassing a sleek, elongated bar that leads into a large billiards area. The scene here shouts trendy/casual: it’s a place where people want to be seen but let their hair down all at once. A more formal setting awaits downstairs in the main dining room (or as Incontro’s owners fancily label it, the meeting room), which features a display kitchen in which diners can view their food being prepared.
For starters, the crispy calamari were well executed and drizzled with lemon aioli, pine nuts, kalamata olives, and hot peppers. A tad less aioli and a small infusion of peppers would have better balanced the otherwise finely prepared dish to an even higher standard. Pistachio encrusted boar (resembling two large pieces of KFC but oh, so much more appealing) came with a trio of sweet and spicy dipping sauces and was a standout dish. The meat was moist and tender, whereas many versions come out gamey and tough. The dish evoked a couple of “Mmm, this is delicious,” moments from our dining companions. So far, so good.
Entrees, however, surprisingly fared far worse. My maple glazed pork ($24) came highly recommended by our server, but I found the meat to be woefully overcooked, dry, and oversalted, almost eliminating any semblance of maple flavor on the palate. A shame, given that the accompanying crispy green beans and heavenly light sweet potato mashed were winning sides. Our friends’ steaks (one filet mignon Oscar and a sirloin strip) were cooked to my liking of medium rare. The only problem was that both had requested theirs cooked medium. Clearly, Incontro’s kitchen staff that evening was not well educated on the importance of Meat Preparation 101.
Dessert offered up a small reprieve. A generous slice of carrot cake was moist, not too dense, and possesses a pleasant, not overpoweringly sweet cream cheese frosting. My molten chocolate cake was decadent and gooey enough, although not any more memorable than countless versions I’d previously consumed. The biggest disappointment of the dessert was the fig gelato, which had more hints of coffee flavor to it than fig. The faint traces of fig I was able to detect were located in a small, isolated area of the gelato jammed with figs.
Service was good but far from exceptional. Water glasses were routinely filled and plates hastily removed by competent and polite busboys, while our server was affable enough. But our waitress faltered on a key recommendation (the aforementioned pork dish) and it was one of the busboys, not the server, who responded to a dairy inquiry on the calamari only after it was served tableside.
On its website, Incontro’s owners, Bridge Restaurant Group, claims that its prices are reasonable enough to attract repeat business. With cocktails averaging $11, wines from $9-15, most appetizers exceeding $12 and entrees ranging from $25-50, that statement is certainly up for debate, particularly given its suburban setting (although complimentary valet parking does help a bit). For these prices, Paul’s Palate expects a feast for a king. On my restaurant royalty scale, however, Incontro’s fare is just that: fair, food fit not for a king, but more for a prince, perhaps even a pauper. Despite its glamorous setting, it is Incontro’s failures in the kitchen that prevent the restaurant’s glitter from translating into gourmet gold.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Here is a ‘LaStoria’ Worth Telling
The owners of LaStoria Trattoria in Stoughton, MA certainly aren’t bashful. On their homepage, they state that their establishment ‘is not your usual “Red Sauce” Italian restaurant.” Only a few years ago, however, their menu read like one: wood-grilled pizzas, veal marsala, eggplant parmiagiano, blah, blah, blah. While the food was often solidly executed, it was rarely adventurous, and I ultimately found myself attracted to newer restaurants that prepared dishes with bolder ingredients and flavors. LaStoria, sadly, became an afterthought in the ever-changing restaurant industry.
When my in-laws mentioned that they had recently re-visited this Italian eatery and raved about its distinctly different menu, I decided to give LaStoria a second chance. To my surprise, I discovered that the menu – which had always boasted dishes from all regions of Italy including Sicily, Napoli, Roma, Calabria, Firenze, and Venice – was finally making good on its promise to deliver an inspiring variety of food true to its roots.
Adding affordable piattini (little plates) to the menu was a stroke of genius. Ranging from $3.50-6.50, these unique Italian style tapas include prosciutto crostini with gig glaze ($5), fried goat cheese stuffed green olives ($3.50), and truffled “Mac n Cheese” ($6.50). We opt for the equally enticing antipasti, particularly the creative scampi e Fagioli “al Forno” ($9.50), which features four plump prosciutto wrapped shrimp atop crispy spinach (comparable to kale) and a sinfully delectable white bean puree (which also accompanies complimentary fresh foccacia bread). On paper, the smorgasbord of flavors here sounds questionable at best, but on plate, it’s a hugely successful dish. Like much of LaStoria’s revamped menu, it’s a wildly pleasant surprise.
The menu is also broken out into traditional pasta dishes ($11-18), LaStoria Classici (including aforementioned marsala and parmesiana style dishes ($15-19), and more daring specialty pasta (including zucca tortellini e Cape Sante, which includes pumpkin filled pasta, maple glazed sea scallops, roast butternut squash, sage and cream for $17) and second dishes. Of the latter, Arista Griglia ($17) boasts perfectly grilled pork tenderloin drizzled with a just-sweet-enough apple cider glaze reduction, accompanied by sweet potato mashed and green beans. I gravitate towards the evening’s special, a generous serving of ultra-tender, fall-off-the-bone veal ossco bucco ($18). The meal is noteworthy for its restraint in terms of incorporating a subtle tomato relish sauce so as not to overpower the meat’s flavor. My one complaint? A blasé side of garlic soaked pasta had me yearning for a more hearty starch such as mushroom risotto. A rum-soaked dessert of tiramisu, however, quickly washed any complaints away. It packed the perfect amount of liquour and texture (neither too dense nor too light) and was light years ahead of its flavorless predecessor years back.
LaStoria also serves a wide assortment of wines and a unique selection of seasonal cocktails including carrot cake (with butter shots) and key lime martinis. As we wait for our tables, the bartender forewarns me that the Hot Apple Cider martini packs quite a wallop, and it does. The rums contained therein, however, overpower the cider flavor, rendering this also only lukewarm cocktail virtually undrinkable. Faring significantly better, however, is the espresso martini, a sweet, caffeinated concoction that excels where other versions (either too creamy or too much alcohol over espresso) have miserably failed.
LaStoria’s space is relatively small and sometimes cramped (you can practically talk with your neighbors at the next table), but this often lends well to a more intimate meal. Service was more than adequate, if not great. Our waitress was genial and knowledgeable enough, though an extra visit or two to inquire about our meal or re-fill water glasses would have sufficed. A cappuccino came out well after my tiramisu had been consumed, though accompanied by a sincere apology from our server.
But that’s why consumers pay exorbitant prices at more glamorous, upscale restaurants. I’ll take the high quality fare and incredible value (no entrees exceeding $20) that this quaint little Italian restaurant offers, thank you very much. By exchanging its red sauce roots for more sophisticated dishes, this LaStoria is writing a brand new chapter in its stories history. Count me in once again as a loyal reader – I mean, eater.
When my in-laws mentioned that they had recently re-visited this Italian eatery and raved about its distinctly different menu, I decided to give LaStoria a second chance. To my surprise, I discovered that the menu – which had always boasted dishes from all regions of Italy including Sicily, Napoli, Roma, Calabria, Firenze, and Venice – was finally making good on its promise to deliver an inspiring variety of food true to its roots.
Adding affordable piattini (little plates) to the menu was a stroke of genius. Ranging from $3.50-6.50, these unique Italian style tapas include prosciutto crostini with gig glaze ($5), fried goat cheese stuffed green olives ($3.50), and truffled “Mac n Cheese” ($6.50). We opt for the equally enticing antipasti, particularly the creative scampi e Fagioli “al Forno” ($9.50), which features four plump prosciutto wrapped shrimp atop crispy spinach (comparable to kale) and a sinfully delectable white bean puree (which also accompanies complimentary fresh foccacia bread). On paper, the smorgasbord of flavors here sounds questionable at best, but on plate, it’s a hugely successful dish. Like much of LaStoria’s revamped menu, it’s a wildly pleasant surprise.
The menu is also broken out into traditional pasta dishes ($11-18), LaStoria Classici (including aforementioned marsala and parmesiana style dishes ($15-19), and more daring specialty pasta (including zucca tortellini e Cape Sante, which includes pumpkin filled pasta, maple glazed sea scallops, roast butternut squash, sage and cream for $17) and second dishes. Of the latter, Arista Griglia ($17) boasts perfectly grilled pork tenderloin drizzled with a just-sweet-enough apple cider glaze reduction, accompanied by sweet potato mashed and green beans. I gravitate towards the evening’s special, a generous serving of ultra-tender, fall-off-the-bone veal ossco bucco ($18). The meal is noteworthy for its restraint in terms of incorporating a subtle tomato relish sauce so as not to overpower the meat’s flavor. My one complaint? A blasé side of garlic soaked pasta had me yearning for a more hearty starch such as mushroom risotto. A rum-soaked dessert of tiramisu, however, quickly washed any complaints away. It packed the perfect amount of liquour and texture (neither too dense nor too light) and was light years ahead of its flavorless predecessor years back.
LaStoria also serves a wide assortment of wines and a unique selection of seasonal cocktails including carrot cake (with butter shots) and key lime martinis. As we wait for our tables, the bartender forewarns me that the Hot Apple Cider martini packs quite a wallop, and it does. The rums contained therein, however, overpower the cider flavor, rendering this also only lukewarm cocktail virtually undrinkable. Faring significantly better, however, is the espresso martini, a sweet, caffeinated concoction that excels where other versions (either too creamy or too much alcohol over espresso) have miserably failed.
LaStoria’s space is relatively small and sometimes cramped (you can practically talk with your neighbors at the next table), but this often lends well to a more intimate meal. Service was more than adequate, if not great. Our waitress was genial and knowledgeable enough, though an extra visit or two to inquire about our meal or re-fill water glasses would have sufficed. A cappuccino came out well after my tiramisu had been consumed, though accompanied by a sincere apology from our server.
But that’s why consumers pay exorbitant prices at more glamorous, upscale restaurants. I’ll take the high quality fare and incredible value (no entrees exceeding $20) that this quaint little Italian restaurant offers, thank you very much. By exchanging its red sauce roots for more sophisticated dishes, this LaStoria is writing a brand new chapter in its stories history. Count me in once again as a loyal reader – I mean, eater.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Masona Grill Too Good to Keep a Secret
Have you ever dined at a local neighborhood eating haunt that is simply so breathtakingly and surprisingly good that you want to keep it all to yourself? Typically, I’m good at keeping these places under wraps, but West Roxbury’s Masona Grill has had me breaking my customary silence to family and friends. Tucked away on Corey Street, across from a T stop, Executive Chef/Owner Manuel ‘Manny’ Sifnugel’s establishment is not only one of Greater Boston’s hidden jewels, but one of its finest restaurants as well.
Sifnugel, former proprietor of the highly regarded Claremont Café in Boston’s South End, opened up Masona Grill in 2006. His eclectic cuisine can best be described as New American with Mediterranean influences. Born in Peru, traces of South America ingredients adorn several of his dishes (chimichurri brushed atop steak, oregano, et cetera…). Other vibrant, welcomed ingredients such as cilantro and cumin are also freely used.
The ambience is as lively as the food. Colorful artwork (large oil paintings), chocolate covered walls, contemporary light fixtures (including tea lights), hardwood floors, and circular and square-shaped tables (my wife and I sat on dark tan leather banquettes with a view of the street) create an upscale, yet relaxed atmosphere. There is also a marble bar, whereby patrons can view Sifnugel and his staff cooking in the kitchen. Up-tempo and Brazilian jazz music gently play throughout our meal. Named after Sifnugel’s three daughters (Marcella, Sofia, and Natalia, whose black and white pictures instantly greet diners upon entering through velvet curtains), Masona Grill accomplishes a near miraculous feat: it’s the rare establishment that possesses just the right amount of hipness to coincide with its ability to make you feel like you’re eating the ultimate, most intimate home-cooked meal.
For starters, lobster taquitos ($11) were divine. Never mind that they were served as bona-fide open-faced tacos (taquitos should take the form of cigar-shaped mounds, akin to those we sampled at Caribe in Barbados). The freshness and abundance of the crustacean was impressive, while the cucumber, radish, pickled red onions, and sour cream provided a nice contrast to the sweetness of the lobster. Crispy oysters ($10) were nearly as good, served with a zesty tomato remoulade and mango salsa. My one minor quibble was that the dish also came with the same, unannounced trio of cucumber, radish, and pickled onion that accompanied our previous first course, which made for some redundancy.
Entrees fared even better. My wife’s Latin stew ($27) was packed with a variety of fish including lobster, scallops, calamari, came with a delectably spicy broth, and even included small chunks of two favorites items of mine: chorizo and yucca. One very minor problem with the dish was its inclusion of what can best be described as corn on the cob. It was a non-traditional, overly starchy, inedible object. Otherwise, the dish on the whole was well executed. My coffee rubbed sirloin steak was a steal at $26. Perfectly cooked medium rare and innovatively served with chimichurri, the dish was a true standout. When asking our server what made the accompanying potatoes and grilled zucchini and tomatoes so delicious, he remarked that Sifnugel added oregano to the mix. This is a meal I’d confidently match up against any of Boston’s best. I’m still having dreams about how well this cut of meat was prepared.
About a half dozen, well-selected, reasonably priced bottles each of red and white wines ($29-55/bottle, $7-9/glass) adorn the menu. Desserts are also well priced at $7, particularly the sinfully sweet, warmed pecan pie served with house made Guinness ice cream.
While the food is memorable at Masona Grill, it’s the service that is truly exceptional and what elevates our meal to unforgettable status. Having booked our reservation through Open Tables, our server immediately acknowledged our special anniversary we were celebrating, in addition to paying close attention to my wife’s dairy allergy. The meal was extremely well-paced. Upon inquiring about which red wine to pair with my entrée, the server recommended a Malbec, paused for a moment, and then offered to bring samples of both the Malbec and the house Cabernet. Who does that nowadays? In lieu of coffee with my dessert, he suggested I try a port wine ($8), which, he stated, would perfectly balance the nuttiness of the pecan pie (which it did, of course). Getting back to my wife’s dairy allergy, the server came up at one point during our meal and provided us with information on how to prepare a non-dairy equivalent of cheese. Sifnugel himself even went out of his way to call the pastry chef on his cell phone and find out if the seasonal fruit crisp was non-dairy. Unpretentious, overly accommodating touches such as these make Masona Grill a truly special place.
As we leave, my wife and I are warmly greeted by Sifnugel. We are the last patrons to leave for the evening. Has it already been 2 ½ hours since we arrived? The owner shoots the breeze with us, discussing his past, his family, and his love for food. It’s as if he doesn’t want us to go. Neither do we, because it feels as if we’re already home.
Sifnugel, former proprietor of the highly regarded Claremont Café in Boston’s South End, opened up Masona Grill in 2006. His eclectic cuisine can best be described as New American with Mediterranean influences. Born in Peru, traces of South America ingredients adorn several of his dishes (chimichurri brushed atop steak, oregano, et cetera…). Other vibrant, welcomed ingredients such as cilantro and cumin are also freely used.
The ambience is as lively as the food. Colorful artwork (large oil paintings), chocolate covered walls, contemporary light fixtures (including tea lights), hardwood floors, and circular and square-shaped tables (my wife and I sat on dark tan leather banquettes with a view of the street) create an upscale, yet relaxed atmosphere. There is also a marble bar, whereby patrons can view Sifnugel and his staff cooking in the kitchen. Up-tempo and Brazilian jazz music gently play throughout our meal. Named after Sifnugel’s three daughters (Marcella, Sofia, and Natalia, whose black and white pictures instantly greet diners upon entering through velvet curtains), Masona Grill accomplishes a near miraculous feat: it’s the rare establishment that possesses just the right amount of hipness to coincide with its ability to make you feel like you’re eating the ultimate, most intimate home-cooked meal.
For starters, lobster taquitos ($11) were divine. Never mind that they were served as bona-fide open-faced tacos (taquitos should take the form of cigar-shaped mounds, akin to those we sampled at Caribe in Barbados). The freshness and abundance of the crustacean was impressive, while the cucumber, radish, pickled red onions, and sour cream provided a nice contrast to the sweetness of the lobster. Crispy oysters ($10) were nearly as good, served with a zesty tomato remoulade and mango salsa. My one minor quibble was that the dish also came with the same, unannounced trio of cucumber, radish, and pickled onion that accompanied our previous first course, which made for some redundancy.
Entrees fared even better. My wife’s Latin stew ($27) was packed with a variety of fish including lobster, scallops, calamari, came with a delectably spicy broth, and even included small chunks of two favorites items of mine: chorizo and yucca. One very minor problem with the dish was its inclusion of what can best be described as corn on the cob. It was a non-traditional, overly starchy, inedible object. Otherwise, the dish on the whole was well executed. My coffee rubbed sirloin steak was a steal at $26. Perfectly cooked medium rare and innovatively served with chimichurri, the dish was a true standout. When asking our server what made the accompanying potatoes and grilled zucchini and tomatoes so delicious, he remarked that Sifnugel added oregano to the mix. This is a meal I’d confidently match up against any of Boston’s best. I’m still having dreams about how well this cut of meat was prepared.
About a half dozen, well-selected, reasonably priced bottles each of red and white wines ($29-55/bottle, $7-9/glass) adorn the menu. Desserts are also well priced at $7, particularly the sinfully sweet, warmed pecan pie served with house made Guinness ice cream.
While the food is memorable at Masona Grill, it’s the service that is truly exceptional and what elevates our meal to unforgettable status. Having booked our reservation through Open Tables, our server immediately acknowledged our special anniversary we were celebrating, in addition to paying close attention to my wife’s dairy allergy. The meal was extremely well-paced. Upon inquiring about which red wine to pair with my entrée, the server recommended a Malbec, paused for a moment, and then offered to bring samples of both the Malbec and the house Cabernet. Who does that nowadays? In lieu of coffee with my dessert, he suggested I try a port wine ($8), which, he stated, would perfectly balance the nuttiness of the pecan pie (which it did, of course). Getting back to my wife’s dairy allergy, the server came up at one point during our meal and provided us with information on how to prepare a non-dairy equivalent of cheese. Sifnugel himself even went out of his way to call the pastry chef on his cell phone and find out if the seasonal fruit crisp was non-dairy. Unpretentious, overly accommodating touches such as these make Masona Grill a truly special place.
As we leave, my wife and I are warmly greeted by Sifnugel. We are the last patrons to leave for the evening. Has it already been 2 ½ hours since we arrived? The owner shoots the breeze with us, discussing his past, his family, and his love for food. It’s as if he doesn’t want us to go. Neither do we, because it feels as if we’re already home.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Davio’s Gives Patriotic Effort in Foxborough
Owner Steve DiFillippo sure knew what he was doing when he expanded his beloved Northern Italian Steakhouse, Davio’s, from Boston into the suburbs. After all, why not expand his culinary empire into Patriot Place, the shopping plaza built adjacent to the hallowed grounds of a football dynasty? The sheer size of the restaurant almost keeps up with the seating capacity at the Gillette stadium, accommodating an eye-popping 350 patrons.
Our large party was seated in an intimate, rotund-spaced private room, which made for pleasant people watching given the al-fresco dining outside. Davio’s interior as a whole is impressive, from its warm, inviting brown hues to its magnificent cathedral ceilings and its expansive bar and lounge. The décor evokes grandeur, but with a hint of restraint. Mooo…., KO Prime, Grill 23, this is not.
Our cocktails are generous and well prepared, particularly the house-made sangria. Often times, the Burgundy wine flavor is lost amidst all of the juices thrown into this type of concoction. Here, the wine takes center stage, well balanced with the other liquors and juices. My wife’s cocktail, prepared with Kiwi and Sprite, was light and refreshing, a perfect, innovative summer drink. A platter containing four varieties of freshly baked breads, including wonderfully tasty pesto, is brought out to the table with an equally interesting selection of spreads, including roasted eggplant and goat cheese.
The cocktails also go down well with an array of appetizers, including crispy fried clams served with delectable housemade chips and a spicy remoulade sauce ($14). Crispy fried calamari with hot cherry peppers and spicy aioli ($12) pack welcomed, subtle heat. At Davio’s, fried seafood - unlike at many similar establishments - is surprisingly one of its strongsuits. The seafood we sample is not too rubbery and possesses just the right amount of crispiness. A side of sautéed green beans with crispy pancetta ($8) was tasty, if not a tad too spicy.
Entrees are equally strong. One eating companion orders the spaghettini, which includes generous chunks of Maine lobster, sun dried tomato, and creamy basil pesto ($26). Although the prospect of ‘creamy basil pesto’ paired with lobster initially frightened me away from ordering this dish, after sampling a couple of forkfuls, it was no wonder that she was unwilling to part with any additional bites. The pasta was well cooked and the pesto sauce was delicious and surprisingly light. It’s an odd mismatch of ingredients that somehow works. Even better was the gorgonzola crusted prime top sirloin, seared perfectly on the outside, cooked medium rear, topped with gorgonzola cream and accompanied by an otherwordly organic mushroom risotto. For only $29, this generous cut of quality meat was an outrageous bargain. With the exception of a side of far-too-salty-baby spinach on another companion’s dish, the presentation, size, and taste of all entrees were all top-notch. The maccheroni alla chitarra, with shrimp, pancetta, hot cherry peppers, and arugula lemon oil ($24) was another satisfying pasta dish.
Desserts provided a nice conclusion to the evening. Baby cakes – Davio’s take on the warm chocolate molten – were well cooked, if not as dense and gooey as I had hoped. The best dessert, hands-down, was the warmed strawberry rhubarb tort. The flakiness of the dough paired with succulent fruit was heavenly.
Service was respectable, though given such high price points here (i.e. a grilled porterhouse veal chop runs $46, while several steaks run into the $40s and even $50s), one would expect it to be flawless. While our server was only one week into her job, she was genial, surprisingly knowledgeable of the menu (even making recommendations), and attentive while at our table. Minor snafus, which reflected more upon the busboys more so than with our waitress, included a dining companion having to request steak sauce and a coffee refill on more than one occasion. Now in its third year at Patriots Place, one would think that such basic service glitches as these would have worked themselves out by now.
If there were one minor quibble overall with the menu, it’s that it is a bit unorganized and overly expansive, making it difficult to navigate and order at times. For instance, some of the appetizers (and several entrees) are separated out and appear on the Classici section (Davio’s staple dishes since the restaurant’s inception, though this is not explained on the menu). A variety of spring rolls even have their own section unto themselves (Marchi). What does Davio’s pride itself on – steak, seafood, pasta – all of the above? It’s as if the restaurant wants to be all things to everyone, and is a bit too schizophrenic for my taste.
Beggars, however, cannot be choosers. Davio’s pleasantly delivers on several levels. Its ambience and its food make it a welcomed addition to the South Shore dining scene. Is it the Super Bowl of fine dining? Not at all, but DiFillippo and his staff score a touchdown in Paul’s Palate’s book.
Our large party was seated in an intimate, rotund-spaced private room, which made for pleasant people watching given the al-fresco dining outside. Davio’s interior as a whole is impressive, from its warm, inviting brown hues to its magnificent cathedral ceilings and its expansive bar and lounge. The décor evokes grandeur, but with a hint of restraint. Mooo…., KO Prime, Grill 23, this is not.
Our cocktails are generous and well prepared, particularly the house-made sangria. Often times, the Burgundy wine flavor is lost amidst all of the juices thrown into this type of concoction. Here, the wine takes center stage, well balanced with the other liquors and juices. My wife’s cocktail, prepared with Kiwi and Sprite, was light and refreshing, a perfect, innovative summer drink. A platter containing four varieties of freshly baked breads, including wonderfully tasty pesto, is brought out to the table with an equally interesting selection of spreads, including roasted eggplant and goat cheese.
The cocktails also go down well with an array of appetizers, including crispy fried clams served with delectable housemade chips and a spicy remoulade sauce ($14). Crispy fried calamari with hot cherry peppers and spicy aioli ($12) pack welcomed, subtle heat. At Davio’s, fried seafood - unlike at many similar establishments - is surprisingly one of its strongsuits. The seafood we sample is not too rubbery and possesses just the right amount of crispiness. A side of sautéed green beans with crispy pancetta ($8) was tasty, if not a tad too spicy.
Entrees are equally strong. One eating companion orders the spaghettini, which includes generous chunks of Maine lobster, sun dried tomato, and creamy basil pesto ($26). Although the prospect of ‘creamy basil pesto’ paired with lobster initially frightened me away from ordering this dish, after sampling a couple of forkfuls, it was no wonder that she was unwilling to part with any additional bites. The pasta was well cooked and the pesto sauce was delicious and surprisingly light. It’s an odd mismatch of ingredients that somehow works. Even better was the gorgonzola crusted prime top sirloin, seared perfectly on the outside, cooked medium rear, topped with gorgonzola cream and accompanied by an otherwordly organic mushroom risotto. For only $29, this generous cut of quality meat was an outrageous bargain. With the exception of a side of far-too-salty-baby spinach on another companion’s dish, the presentation, size, and taste of all entrees were all top-notch. The maccheroni alla chitarra, with shrimp, pancetta, hot cherry peppers, and arugula lemon oil ($24) was another satisfying pasta dish.
Desserts provided a nice conclusion to the evening. Baby cakes – Davio’s take on the warm chocolate molten – were well cooked, if not as dense and gooey as I had hoped. The best dessert, hands-down, was the warmed strawberry rhubarb tort. The flakiness of the dough paired with succulent fruit was heavenly.
Service was respectable, though given such high price points here (i.e. a grilled porterhouse veal chop runs $46, while several steaks run into the $40s and even $50s), one would expect it to be flawless. While our server was only one week into her job, she was genial, surprisingly knowledgeable of the menu (even making recommendations), and attentive while at our table. Minor snafus, which reflected more upon the busboys more so than with our waitress, included a dining companion having to request steak sauce and a coffee refill on more than one occasion. Now in its third year at Patriots Place, one would think that such basic service glitches as these would have worked themselves out by now.
If there were one minor quibble overall with the menu, it’s that it is a bit unorganized and overly expansive, making it difficult to navigate and order at times. For instance, some of the appetizers (and several entrees) are separated out and appear on the Classici section (Davio’s staple dishes since the restaurant’s inception, though this is not explained on the menu). A variety of spring rolls even have their own section unto themselves (Marchi). What does Davio’s pride itself on – steak, seafood, pasta – all of the above? It’s as if the restaurant wants to be all things to everyone, and is a bit too schizophrenic for my taste.
Beggars, however, cannot be choosers. Davio’s pleasantly delivers on several levels. Its ambience and its food make it a welcomed addition to the South Shore dining scene. Is it the Super Bowl of fine dining? Not at all, but DiFillippo and his staff score a touchdown in Paul’s Palate’s book.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Carmen in North End is Secret Worth Keeping
Located just around the corner from bustling Hanover Street in Boston’s North End, blink and you might miss Carmen amongst the countless neighborhood Italian restaurants. Pity, since this charming, romantic hideaway whips up some of the finest upscale Italian cuisine the North End has to offer.
Carmen’s interior is intimately smug. A mini bar is located up front, while brick walls, low lighting, and arms-length wine racks create an Old World ambience.
Small plates from the wine bar (all reasonably priced at $6) include a generous portion of wonderfully fresh marinated mushrooms with smoked bacon and sherry vinegar. The grilled asparagus with truffle vinaigrette and pecorino we sample, however, is quite bland in flavor. First courses are uniquely prepared and impressive. Homemade ravioli of braised short rib, herbed goat cheese, and sage brown butter ($14) is heavenly, featuring pillowy pasta tubes doused in a subtly rich, but not-too heavy reduction. Spice cured beef tenderloin with arugula, parmigiano, lemon vinaigrette, and aged balsamic ($15) contains thinly sliced strips of meat that are surprisingly crisp and slightly candied in flavor (do I detect a hint of licorice?) It’s an oddly appealing, inspiring dish sure to hover in one’s mind (and on one’s palate) long after the meal’s completion. The same can be said for a perfectly executed grilled flatbread with caramelized onions, grapes, walnuts, robiola cheese, and aged balsamic ($15). Its crust is beautifully crisped and the pie strikes a perfect balance between sweet and tart.
Don’t miss the handmade pastas, which include a non-traditional Italian version of a French crepe – called a crespelle – stuffed with porcini mushrooms and caramelized onions, topped with Carmen’s famous Bolognese sauce ($20). While the presentation left little to the imagination (more closely resembling a Sloppy Joe than a crepe), the dish was flavorful and satisfying (albeit a bit too heavy given the summer season). For entrees, seared sea scallops with sweet corn, pancetta, and shrimp risotto, served alongside carrot puree ($29) were fresh and light, although the accompanying risotto and puree did nothing to accentuate the flavor of the fish. The slow roasted rack of pork with roasted acorn squash, braised escarole, and spicy mustard sauce ($26) was unanimously voted as the strongest entrée of the lot. The meat was perfectly cooked (not overly dry, which happens far too frequently in restaurants nowadays) and the mustard sauce packed a sweet and spicy (once again, that candied flavor) wallop. Due to limited space at Carmen, dessert is not offered (no problem for us, as we headed one block north to Hanover Street and ordered delectable cannolis at Modern Pastry).
Our server was genial, knowledgeable of the menu, attentive, and accommodating (i.e. she requested that the kitchen serve half of the flatbread without cheese due to my wife’s dairy allergy). Glasses of wine and water were frequently filled without raising a finger. Speaking of wine, Carmen’s list is extensive (roughly twenty bottles of white and sixty reds, each broken out by region and reasonably priced). House-made seasonal white sangria ($18/litre), about which our eating companions had previously raved, is rather dull, but did help stave off the unbearably hot environment (dining on a hot summer evening at most any North End establishment will pose the same problem given that the majority of them have open-air dining).
Overall, Carmen was a memorable dining experience. It may not carry the lofty nametag or reputation of other neighborhood heavyweights such as Mare or Prezza, but its delectable fare is more reasonably priced and its atmosphere emphasizes romance over flash, substance over style. This is a place to hide from the throngs of ravenous people crowding Hanover Street. It may not be possible, but Paul’s Palate would like to keep this seductive, secretive dining destination all to himself.
Carmen’s interior is intimately smug. A mini bar is located up front, while brick walls, low lighting, and arms-length wine racks create an Old World ambience.
Small plates from the wine bar (all reasonably priced at $6) include a generous portion of wonderfully fresh marinated mushrooms with smoked bacon and sherry vinegar. The grilled asparagus with truffle vinaigrette and pecorino we sample, however, is quite bland in flavor. First courses are uniquely prepared and impressive. Homemade ravioli of braised short rib, herbed goat cheese, and sage brown butter ($14) is heavenly, featuring pillowy pasta tubes doused in a subtly rich, but not-too heavy reduction. Spice cured beef tenderloin with arugula, parmigiano, lemon vinaigrette, and aged balsamic ($15) contains thinly sliced strips of meat that are surprisingly crisp and slightly candied in flavor (do I detect a hint of licorice?) It’s an oddly appealing, inspiring dish sure to hover in one’s mind (and on one’s palate) long after the meal’s completion. The same can be said for a perfectly executed grilled flatbread with caramelized onions, grapes, walnuts, robiola cheese, and aged balsamic ($15). Its crust is beautifully crisped and the pie strikes a perfect balance between sweet and tart.
Don’t miss the handmade pastas, which include a non-traditional Italian version of a French crepe – called a crespelle – stuffed with porcini mushrooms and caramelized onions, topped with Carmen’s famous Bolognese sauce ($20). While the presentation left little to the imagination (more closely resembling a Sloppy Joe than a crepe), the dish was flavorful and satisfying (albeit a bit too heavy given the summer season). For entrees, seared sea scallops with sweet corn, pancetta, and shrimp risotto, served alongside carrot puree ($29) were fresh and light, although the accompanying risotto and puree did nothing to accentuate the flavor of the fish. The slow roasted rack of pork with roasted acorn squash, braised escarole, and spicy mustard sauce ($26) was unanimously voted as the strongest entrée of the lot. The meat was perfectly cooked (not overly dry, which happens far too frequently in restaurants nowadays) and the mustard sauce packed a sweet and spicy (once again, that candied flavor) wallop. Due to limited space at Carmen, dessert is not offered (no problem for us, as we headed one block north to Hanover Street and ordered delectable cannolis at Modern Pastry).
Our server was genial, knowledgeable of the menu, attentive, and accommodating (i.e. she requested that the kitchen serve half of the flatbread without cheese due to my wife’s dairy allergy). Glasses of wine and water were frequently filled without raising a finger. Speaking of wine, Carmen’s list is extensive (roughly twenty bottles of white and sixty reds, each broken out by region and reasonably priced). House-made seasonal white sangria ($18/litre), about which our eating companions had previously raved, is rather dull, but did help stave off the unbearably hot environment (dining on a hot summer evening at most any North End establishment will pose the same problem given that the majority of them have open-air dining).
Overall, Carmen was a memorable dining experience. It may not carry the lofty nametag or reputation of other neighborhood heavyweights such as Mare or Prezza, but its delectable fare is more reasonably priced and its atmosphere emphasizes romance over flash, substance over style. This is a place to hide from the throngs of ravenous people crowding Hanover Street. It may not be possible, but Paul’s Palate would like to keep this seductive, secretive dining destination all to himself.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Lucca Back Bay a Hit-or-Miss Dining Spot
When owners Ted Kennedy, and Matthew and Sean Williams’s decided to expand its North End’s dining hotspot Lucca into the Back Bay last year, Sasso came to be. Evidently, the fancy name didn’t take, as the restaurant is now simply called Lucca Back Bay. Neither did the original chef, David Ross, who was replaced by formidable chef Anthony Mazzotta, he of nationally renowned restaurants of which you may have heard (California’s French Laundry and New York’s Per Se). And yet, when it comes to local publicity of its finest Italian restaurants, Lucca Back Bay is almost always excluded from the conversation. Paul’s Palate trekked over to the Huntington Avenue location (lodged between the Colonnade and Marriott Copley Hotels) to investigate why.
Lucca Back Bay aims high for ambience, and mostly hits its mark. A snazzy little bar with some tables for nibbling on bar bites appears to the left, while an elegant, modern dining room, painted in warm brown hues and providing some great street-viewing outside, is to our right. A long marble staircase leading up to the kitchen, however, seems strangely askew. In fact, after awkwardly attempting to find my way to the rest rooms, whose entranceway was initially pitch black, the deeply embarrassed maitre’d apologized for some of his servers who apparently had bumped into switches upstairs connected to this area on multiple occasions. Though the establishment boasts an impressive décor, minute details such as these prevent Lucca from taking its rightful place atop the classy scale – a la Mistral or Sorrelina.
Mazzotta’s menu changes seasonally, depending on what Italian regional fare tickles his fancy. And like Lucca’s ambience, his food options are typically on the mark. For starters, though, the vitello tonnato ($16) is an utter disappointment. The thinly sliced veal carpaccio is barely discernible, as is the bland tuna tartare, which is rolled into unappealing ball-like shapes. The accoutrements sound enticing – grain mustard remoulade, tiny croutons, pickled ramps, cucumber, radish, and watercress – but they add very little flavor or texture to the dish. On the other hand, Mazzato’s Point Judith calamari ($13) are nothing short of sensational, creatively sauteed with a delectable agro dolce tomato sauce and eggplant. Pasta dishes are Mazzotta’s forte, as evidenced by his superb house-made tagliatelle con pollo ($22), whose blend of perfectly cooked pasta, confit chicken, panecetta, preserved lemon, watercress, and toasted pistachios elevates this bright, lively dish into the canon of all-time great pastas. Four thick, moist seared George Bank scallops ($36) adorn my wife’s dish, but aside from a delicious garnish of turnip puree, sautéed spinich, and confit lobster mushrooms almost hiding underneath the seafood, the plate is practically bare, nary an accompaniment to be had. It were as if we were re-living the commercial in which the couple goes out to a fine dining establishment only to discover miniscule, bordering on pretentious food portion sizes. My wife leans over, secretly pointing to her dish, and whispers, “Is that all there is?” Surely, this cannot happen at a place like Lucca, can it?
Save for a missed water glass, service was consistent and amiable. Our waiter was pleasant and quite knowledgeable of the restaurant’s wine and food selections.
As evidenced by its ambience, service, and food, Lucca Back Bay, like a good-but-not-great baseball player, frequently swings for the fences but more often settles for ground-rule doubles. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but in today’s competitive culinary world and challenging economic climate – where repeat business is critical - perfection is everything. Given Luccca’s moderately high price points ($13 cocktails, $11-16 antipasti, $22-24 pasta dishes, $26-36 entrees, $10 desserts), expectations need to be tempered here. Musician Suzanne Vega once sang about a character named Luka living on the second floor. This particular Lucca yearns for the penthouse, but like the central figure in Vega’s song, delivers above average, but slightly pedestrian results.
Lucca Back Bay aims high for ambience, and mostly hits its mark. A snazzy little bar with some tables for nibbling on bar bites appears to the left, while an elegant, modern dining room, painted in warm brown hues and providing some great street-viewing outside, is to our right. A long marble staircase leading up to the kitchen, however, seems strangely askew. In fact, after awkwardly attempting to find my way to the rest rooms, whose entranceway was initially pitch black, the deeply embarrassed maitre’d apologized for some of his servers who apparently had bumped into switches upstairs connected to this area on multiple occasions. Though the establishment boasts an impressive décor, minute details such as these prevent Lucca from taking its rightful place atop the classy scale – a la Mistral or Sorrelina.
Mazzotta’s menu changes seasonally, depending on what Italian regional fare tickles his fancy. And like Lucca’s ambience, his food options are typically on the mark. For starters, though, the vitello tonnato ($16) is an utter disappointment. The thinly sliced veal carpaccio is barely discernible, as is the bland tuna tartare, which is rolled into unappealing ball-like shapes. The accoutrements sound enticing – grain mustard remoulade, tiny croutons, pickled ramps, cucumber, radish, and watercress – but they add very little flavor or texture to the dish. On the other hand, Mazzato’s Point Judith calamari ($13) are nothing short of sensational, creatively sauteed with a delectable agro dolce tomato sauce and eggplant. Pasta dishes are Mazzotta’s forte, as evidenced by his superb house-made tagliatelle con pollo ($22), whose blend of perfectly cooked pasta, confit chicken, panecetta, preserved lemon, watercress, and toasted pistachios elevates this bright, lively dish into the canon of all-time great pastas. Four thick, moist seared George Bank scallops ($36) adorn my wife’s dish, but aside from a delicious garnish of turnip puree, sautéed spinich, and confit lobster mushrooms almost hiding underneath the seafood, the plate is practically bare, nary an accompaniment to be had. It were as if we were re-living the commercial in which the couple goes out to a fine dining establishment only to discover miniscule, bordering on pretentious food portion sizes. My wife leans over, secretly pointing to her dish, and whispers, “Is that all there is?” Surely, this cannot happen at a place like Lucca, can it?
Save for a missed water glass, service was consistent and amiable. Our waiter was pleasant and quite knowledgeable of the restaurant’s wine and food selections.
As evidenced by its ambience, service, and food, Lucca Back Bay, like a good-but-not-great baseball player, frequently swings for the fences but more often settles for ground-rule doubles. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but in today’s competitive culinary world and challenging economic climate – where repeat business is critical - perfection is everything. Given Luccca’s moderately high price points ($13 cocktails, $11-16 antipasti, $22-24 pasta dishes, $26-36 entrees, $10 desserts), expectations need to be tempered here. Musician Suzanne Vega once sang about a character named Luka living on the second floor. This particular Lucca yearns for the penthouse, but like the central figure in Vega’s song, delivers above average, but slightly pedestrian results.
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