This Yard House Doesn’t Measure Up

Oh, what tricks the food gods play! Yard House, located in the far back of Dedham’s bustling shopping plaza, Legacy Place, appears to be a perfectly logical spot for an evening of fun, casual dining. A seemingly infinite number of creative beer selections on tap, a voluminous menu from which to choose (over 130 items), and an even more voluminous setting (classic rock blaring on a high end sound system to drone out potential tantrums of our children). An upscale restaurant chain couldn’t be all that bad, could it? The ambience is impressively supersized. Behold, ye of drinking age and unquenchable thirst, the glass-enclosed keg room in which 5,000 gallons of beer resides! Behold the gigantic center island bar featuring an endless number of tap handles and over 250 varieties of beers on tap! Behold the number of thirsty patrons downing the ridiculously large 3-foot tall glasses of said beer! The origin of this mammoth glass is equally impressive: stagecoach drivers in England would down these during the periods when horse-drawn carriages were the method of transportation (so much for eschewing the dangers of drinking and driving back in the day). Abstract artwork adorns the walls, while dozens of flat screens keep interested sports nuts informed. It’s as if the owners of this California-based chain, which spans across 25 cities nationally, are saying to documentary director Morgan Spurlock, “Supersize this.” But excess only takes you so far in this world before ultimately combusting. Although I’d happily combust on Yard House’s beers, which travel through three to five of beer lines stretching overhead from the keg room across to the island bar, maintaining a constant temperature between 34 and 36 degrees. I’d recommend heading to the Blends, which feature creative combinations with stouts, ales, and ciders. My favorite? The Black Velvet, which includes Wayder’s pear cider and Guiness stout. The cider offsets the heaviness of the stout and provides a subtle sweetness to the drink. It’s pure mixology nirvana, and I order it in the 3-foot tall glass ($13.50 for a 2-pint drink). And what better way to down beer than with nicely crisped shoestring fries? I also take a sip of a dining companion’s delicious Java Coffee porter, which contains a strong, terrific burst of espresso flavor and is just rich enough without being too heavy. But that is where the fun ends. Entrees are tepid at best. I, along with another person, order the most popular house favorite on the menu, the (Mac + Cheese)2 ($15.95). It’s a combination of comfort food that should sound sinfully good to consume: chicken breast, smoked applewood bacon, wild mushrooms, cheddar and parmesan with campanelle pasta and white truffle oil. It receives a lukewarm reception – literally. While mine was served hot, the other person who ordered the dish immediately sent his cold plate back. Our waitress, prior to ordering this dish, raved about how delicious it was, going so far as to say she ate it once a week. “It’s a diet buster, but well worth it,” she convincingly stated with a smile. How disappointing, then, to receive such a visually and tastefully bland mess such as this? I glanced over to the other diner, and we both gave the universally understood nod that conveys utter disgust with our dishes. I didn’t detect a trace of any one ingredient in the dish but for the pasta tubes themselves. Another diner’s Bernaise burger (with fried onions) and a lush BBQ chicken salad (with roasted pasilla, pinto beans, cilantro, and fried onions) fared better. A trio sampler, including peach apple cobbler and lemon and chocolate soufflés were decent enough but immediately forgettable. The self-described American fusion menu, on the whole, however, proves to be a costly misnomer. Yard House seems to get the basic dishes right, but when it attempts to fuse the finer things together and create more inspired dishes, the menu moves incrementally by inches, not yards. And why must a seemingly well-oiled machine of a restaurant so clueless as to where it seats a large party with two high-chairs? We were somehow seated in an area bursting with a flurry of server activity, which made for treacherous going as waiters cautiously, almost rudely tiptoed around two restless children. Was the hostess actually thinking that they would remain seated during the meal’s entirety? Service with a smile only takes one so far. Our server was polite enough, and willfully provided recommendations. But it was as if we were experiencing the culinary equivalent of American Idol, whereby a contestant doesn’t connect with the song he or she is singing. Our server’s recommendations were not well-founded, and her level of attentiveness was minimal. Water glasses were left unfilled, and our server disappeared for minutes at a time, particularly after the dessert sampler was placed on the table. Surely, she couldn’t have expected that six grown adults and three children split the trio sampler (three small dishes) without asking if anyone would like to order something else, could she? Many a good beer can be had at Yard House. For anything food-related, however, I’d venture several yards in any other direction of Legacy Place. This restaurant’s food simply doesn’t measure up.

Not a Happening (CBS) Scene

CBS Scene, located at Patriot’s Place in Foxborough, proves that size does not matter. Yes, there’s the ‘wick-it aw-suhm’ environment in which to catch sporting events on jumbo-sized HDTVs (of which there are 135 in total). With regard to its cuisine, however, the restaurant is all bark and no bite – it’s overcompensating. The food is highly overpriced and the quality of the fare is – well, pedestrianly fair. Ask yourself this: would either Bob Kraft or Tom Brady be caught dining here after a game (perhaps even during the lockout)?

Starters (most between $6.50-10) are actually CBS’s stronger suit. Sweet-chili garlic glazed crisp chicken wings are, to quote former Arizona Cardinals football coach Dennis Green, what we thought they were: crispy, meaty, tender, and tasty.

Not so tasty, however is the ½ lb. hamburger ($10.50 plain, $1 each for additional sides). Mine was cooked to order (medium rare), but my dining companion’s was overcooked. The bland shoestring fries were underseasoned and barely lukewarm.

A dessert trio sampler platter ($12) was average at best. Of the three confections, the coconut cheesecake beignets with raspberry sauce were the most memorable, the apple crisp was capable but ordinary, while their signature skillet-sizzling chocolate bread budding simply lacked sizzle. In fact, it was woefully overcooked and an inedible slab resting on the plate. When we inform our waitress of this, she apologizes with indifference and nothing more.

At the conclusion of our meal, the General Manager walks by and asks us about our meal. We politely inform him of the meal’s shortcomings, from the service to the quality of most of the food. He, too, nods with indifference. When notified of the shoestring fries, he responds, “Yeah, we’ve gotten lots of complaints before on these.” Um, OK, so what do you propose to rectify this problem? We walk away feeling as if we’re the last football players selected in the NFL Draft – Mr. Irrelevant. Here’s a suggestion: bypass this lackluster scene and head straight to nearby spots Tastings and Bar Louie for better grub and service. With regard to CBS, it’s better not to take one for the team.

(Not So) Secret Rendezvous

Some rendezvous are best kept secretive. Rendezvous, located on bustling Mass Ave in Central Square, Cambridge, should not. Chef/owner Steve Johnson opened up this hip establishment in 2005 in the space formerly occupied by Burger King. But in lieu of serving Whoppers to the masses, Johnson and staff served up sophisticated western Mediterranean-influenced (Italian, French, Spanish, and north African regions) dishes that pack whoppers of taste. Rendezvous opened to wide acclaim and has apparently done little to tarnish its reputation, recently named as one of Boston’s top 50 restaurants by Boston Magazine. Woud Paul’s Palate join the masses?

Johnson’s restaurant is trendy, but without the pretentiousness (this will be a recurring theme throughout the evening). The warm orange and red hues splashed along the walls serve as harbingers of the relaxed, hospitable charm that Rendezvous’s staff exudes. An attractive custom-made counter-high bar resides to our right, while an open-air dining room ushers us is on the left. A rotating wait staff took our orders, knowledgably responded to our questions (although the first waiter failed to mention that one entrée contained milk when someone from our party identified her dairy allergy; thankfully, the next waitress in the rotation brought this to our attention prior to ordering) and provided strong recommendations. Nary a wine nor water glass went unfilled all evening. Most importantly, Johnson’s staff allowed us – like a fine wine resting on one’s palate – to linger and enjoy a well-paced meal.

Appetizers ($8-14) provided a strong beginning to our meal. Seared sea scallops ($12) – four in total – were perfectly cooked, and the accompanying preserved lemon and black olive vinaigrette complimented the fish well. Equally good was the vegetable antipasto with roasted eggplant puree and muhummara ($12). It’s certainly a pretty plate to admire, though there’s a tad too much going on with the dish. I’d have foregone the slaw, beets, or anything antipasto and been content merely spreading the puree and heavenly muhummara (red pepper spread) atop the exquisitely fresh slices of bread (some of the best I’ve sampled in recent memory).

Entrees ($16-28) were equally enticing in terms of Johnson’s playfulness with ingredients. Take, for instance, his highly acclaimed braised pork and veal meatballs ($25). While the four large meatballs weren’t as tender as I had hoped, they were extremely tasty and well seasoned, their flavor enhanced by chicken broth, sautéed maitake mushrooms, kale leaves, and grated paive cheese. Like the aforementioned appetizers, this dish is lovely to look at. What transports it, however, is Johnson’s bold, yet unassuming technique. He fries tiny ears of orecchiette pasta in olive oil until they’re crisped and golden brown on the edges. It’s a finely executed, surprising take on your traditional meatball dish. Even better is the Gascon-style duck three ways ($26). While the sliced breast was tasty, it was a tad underseasoned for my liking. Both the garlic sausage and particularly the confit duck, however, were the duet that ultimately made this trio sing. I’ve never had skate, but the skillet-roasted version served with broccoli rabe, meyer lemon and hazelnut butter was perfectly cooked, surprisingly complex in taste given its simplicity, and will have me looking for this fish in my local supermarket.

Do not, under any circumstances, pass up dessert here. Praiseworthy dishes include their signature lemon-buttermilk pudding ($7), served cakelike in a beautiful pool of huckleberry sauce. Let’s put it this way: a dining companion of ours, renowned for his painstakingly slow pace of eating, nearly devoured the entire plate before I was able to lift my fork. The same problem presented itself with an ultra-moist, airy pineapple and pomegranate upside-down cake with vanilla bean ice cream ($8). These unique spins on dessert were pure comfort food bliss and made for a most memorable finale to our evening.

Rendezvous boasts an impressive, well-stocked wine list (nearly fifty bottles of both reds and whites) from Italian, Spanish and French regions (with a handful of each from the West Coast). A half dozen complex cocktails adorn the menu, while the refreshing non-alcoholic Gulab Sharbatt (a tall glass of soda water infused with pomegranate, cardamom, lemon, and topped with rose petals) is attractive on the eyes and even better gong down.

For its unpretentious, inspired, and relatively affordable cuisine, alongside its (once again) unpretentious, noteworthy service, Rendezvous is a place you want to keep hidden just for yourself. In fact, it’s somewhat surprising that it hasn’t garnered the attention of more upscale, expensive nearby spots like Salts or Craigie on Main. And yet, I sense that’s just the way chef/owner Johnson wants things. “How was your experience here this evening?” he inquired as he brings our coats. “We had a lovely evening,” I respond. A warm, wide smile extends across Johnson’s face, as of to imply that he’s glad our rendezvous out to his establishment has been considered a success. My only problem now? Keeping this a secret.

Dining Under the Tuscan Sun at Siena

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.

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.

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.

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.