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.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Prezza Leaves Quite an ‘Imprezzion’
Widely-known fact: the North End boasts an extraordinary number of Italian dining establishments. Lesser-known fact: the majority of these eateries serve up good (but not great), often overpriced fare. Prezza, chef owner Anthony Caturano’s critically praised restaurant, now in its tenth year, offers food that as big on flavors and portion sizes as it is on one’s expense account (yes, Prezza is ‘pri…zzey).
Located on Fleet Street, just a stone’s throw away from bustling Hanover Street, Prezza’s ambience is hip, yet subdued. Its interior includes dark wood, warm, welcoming beige walls, dim lighting, and walls adorned with contemporary artwork. Prezza is one of those rare places where you can either go to be seen or simply settle into the background while sipping on a nice glass of wine.
And there is an abundance of wine at Prezza, almost to the point of intimidation. There’s a 30 page selection, including pricey reserves, and at first glance, this navigation process can be overwhelming. Fortunately, our server is well-versed with the entire menu, and recommends a less costly alternative (prices dramatically fluctuate, and $30-50 bottles can be had but require an astute eye). He also keeps our meal at a leisurely pace and is quick, confident, and spot-on with each of his suggestions over the course of the evening. Wine consistently flows in and out of our glasses. Life thusfar at Prezza is good.
So, too, is the cuisine. For starters, the crispy shrimp served with Italian slaw and cherry pepper aioli ($16) is beautifully and brightly plated, four nicely sized crustaceans – heads and all – wrapped in kataifi (phyllo). One of my dining companions is underwhelmed with the dish’s lack of heat, but I couldn’t disagree more, enjoying the mildly fiery aftertaste that each bite left in my palate. As we were discussing the dish, our server interjected that there was a hint of harissa (a Moroccan spice) thrown in with the shrimp which gave them their added spicy kick. Almost equally as good was the wood-grilled squid and octopus with braised white beans and toasted parsley ($15). The seafood, once again, was generous in portion, meaty and smoky, while the white beans in which it soaked was more like a hearty broth, not so much a contrast to the fish, but more like a sumptuous, satisfying additional layer of flavor. A generous half portion of lobster far diavlo with saffron tagliatelle with roasted tomato, fennel, and lobster meat ($18) was also a hit with most of the table. While I was particularly fond of the lip-smackingly good sauce, I found the plate served lukewarm to mildly cold, and the tagliatelle slightly overcooked and not as al dente to my liking.
Entrees also struck positive notes. Caturano’s take on paella with saffron (sensing a theme here?) rice, chorizo, chicken, tomato, lobster, swordfish, shrimp, clams, mussels, and squid ($36) is sure to rival any of Boston’s finest. Unlike more brothy (translation: more goopy) versions I’ve recently sampled, this one stands out, particularly the rice and the manner in which all of the ingredients are plated independent from one another. Like the crispy shrimp before it, it’s a stunning dish to behold. Likewise the wood-grilled Veal Porter House with saffron lobster risotto, broccoli rabe, and red wine sauce. At $44, it’s a pricey dish, but it will reward the diners who invest in it. The large, smokey cut perfectly cooked medium rare and is downright succulent when dipped into that rich, heavenly wine reduction sauce. The accompanying risotto included generous lumps of lobster, and might well rival some of the city’s best (yes, even Mistral’s). And don’t even think about passing on Prezza’s super creamy, super dreamy polenta, served in a pool with tomato, basil, and parmigiano. It’s the best $8 you’ll ever spend for a side dish.
Prezza also offers a creative assortment of desserts, a rarity in most North End establishments. While I’m initially disappointed that their fig turnover with pistachio gelato has recently been taken off the menu, our server tells me not to fret. He recommends the limoncello cheesecake on biscotti crust ($10), and it’s delightful. Also served with shaved coconut, the cheesecake is surprisingly light and airy (I detest dense versions) despite its ricotta filling, while being just tart enough without bordering on overpowering. The server is also high on the white chocolate bread pudding with vanilla bean ice cream and crème anglaise ($10), evoking a smirk from this diner given how ubiquitous the dessert has become. My skepticism, however, quickly transforms into near astonishment as I take a bite, and then additional others, realizing how flavorful this confection is with no accompanying sauces to be seen or had on the plate.
Flavorful food, generous portions, gracious and polished service – these are the signs of a winning establishment, even in spite of a hefty price tag. Special occasion restaurants, after all, should be in the business of making one feel special, right? Given this accomplishment, Prezza is nothing short of ‘imprezzive.’
Located on Fleet Street, just a stone’s throw away from bustling Hanover Street, Prezza’s ambience is hip, yet subdued. Its interior includes dark wood, warm, welcoming beige walls, dim lighting, and walls adorned with contemporary artwork. Prezza is one of those rare places where you can either go to be seen or simply settle into the background while sipping on a nice glass of wine.
And there is an abundance of wine at Prezza, almost to the point of intimidation. There’s a 30 page selection, including pricey reserves, and at first glance, this navigation process can be overwhelming. Fortunately, our server is well-versed with the entire menu, and recommends a less costly alternative (prices dramatically fluctuate, and $30-50 bottles can be had but require an astute eye). He also keeps our meal at a leisurely pace and is quick, confident, and spot-on with each of his suggestions over the course of the evening. Wine consistently flows in and out of our glasses. Life thusfar at Prezza is good.
So, too, is the cuisine. For starters, the crispy shrimp served with Italian slaw and cherry pepper aioli ($16) is beautifully and brightly plated, four nicely sized crustaceans – heads and all – wrapped in kataifi (phyllo). One of my dining companions is underwhelmed with the dish’s lack of heat, but I couldn’t disagree more, enjoying the mildly fiery aftertaste that each bite left in my palate. As we were discussing the dish, our server interjected that there was a hint of harissa (a Moroccan spice) thrown in with the shrimp which gave them their added spicy kick. Almost equally as good was the wood-grilled squid and octopus with braised white beans and toasted parsley ($15). The seafood, once again, was generous in portion, meaty and smoky, while the white beans in which it soaked was more like a hearty broth, not so much a contrast to the fish, but more like a sumptuous, satisfying additional layer of flavor. A generous half portion of lobster far diavlo with saffron tagliatelle with roasted tomato, fennel, and lobster meat ($18) was also a hit with most of the table. While I was particularly fond of the lip-smackingly good sauce, I found the plate served lukewarm to mildly cold, and the tagliatelle slightly overcooked and not as al dente to my liking.
Entrees also struck positive notes. Caturano’s take on paella with saffron (sensing a theme here?) rice, chorizo, chicken, tomato, lobster, swordfish, shrimp, clams, mussels, and squid ($36) is sure to rival any of Boston’s finest. Unlike more brothy (translation: more goopy) versions I’ve recently sampled, this one stands out, particularly the rice and the manner in which all of the ingredients are plated independent from one another. Like the crispy shrimp before it, it’s a stunning dish to behold. Likewise the wood-grilled Veal Porter House with saffron lobster risotto, broccoli rabe, and red wine sauce. At $44, it’s a pricey dish, but it will reward the diners who invest in it. The large, smokey cut perfectly cooked medium rare and is downright succulent when dipped into that rich, heavenly wine reduction sauce. The accompanying risotto included generous lumps of lobster, and might well rival some of the city’s best (yes, even Mistral’s). And don’t even think about passing on Prezza’s super creamy, super dreamy polenta, served in a pool with tomato, basil, and parmigiano. It’s the best $8 you’ll ever spend for a side dish.
Prezza also offers a creative assortment of desserts, a rarity in most North End establishments. While I’m initially disappointed that their fig turnover with pistachio gelato has recently been taken off the menu, our server tells me not to fret. He recommends the limoncello cheesecake on biscotti crust ($10), and it’s delightful. Also served with shaved coconut, the cheesecake is surprisingly light and airy (I detest dense versions) despite its ricotta filling, while being just tart enough without bordering on overpowering. The server is also high on the white chocolate bread pudding with vanilla bean ice cream and crème anglaise ($10), evoking a smirk from this diner given how ubiquitous the dessert has become. My skepticism, however, quickly transforms into near astonishment as I take a bite, and then additional others, realizing how flavorful this confection is with no accompanying sauces to be seen or had on the plate.
Flavorful food, generous portions, gracious and polished service – these are the signs of a winning establishment, even in spite of a hefty price tag. Special occasion restaurants, after all, should be in the business of making one feel special, right? Given this accomplishment, Prezza is nothing short of ‘imprezzive.’
Monday, May 16, 2011
Delfino Brings Tastes of Italy to Roslindale
We’ve all heard this storyline before: you know, the one about the cozy neighborhood that’s legendary in stature, but only to its local residents, while it remains more or less anonymous to less fortunate diners outside of the area. Think Ten Tables in Jamaica Plain before others caught wind of it and has since expanded into Cambridge given the demand to get in. Roslindale’s Delfino fits this profile to a T. One would assume that given its generous portions of simple, yet well executed dishes that are even more generous in flavor, that the restaurant would be a household name across the state. It surprisingly isn’t.
Perhaps this is partly attributed to its tucked-away location in Roslindale Village, or even its relatively small interior dining room, non-existant waiting area, and no-reservations policy (be prepared to wait 1-2 hours unless you call ahead). And the décor is not Delfino’s strongsuit, either, unless cheesy wall murals of fruit and vegetables along with paper tablecloths tickle your fancy.
But oh, the food has a wonderful way of converting all of the non-believers. Our cordial server impressively recites the evening menu’s specials, down to the last ingredient. The meal is terrifically paced, allowing friendly conversation, wine, and flavors on the palate to linger just long enough throughout the evening.
One appetizer special of a tuna tartare – served in a martini glass – is abundant in volume and taste, mixed with avocado, cherry tomatoes and lime juice. This was the version I’d anticipated but sadly never received two weeks prior at the much more acclaimed Radius. As for entrees, another special of halibut was well cooked in a white wine sauce reduction. My veal marsala tenderloin, cooked perfectly medium rare, may have been one of the finest cuts I’ve sampled in some time, possessing very little fat that often bogs down other versions. Its wild mushroom Marsala sauce was rich in flavor, as was the herb risotto, which was a tad heavy given the denseness of the sauce (although still quite good). House-made pappardelle – ribbon noodles tossed with shrimp and arugula in pink sauce, sounds simple in preparation, but let me assure you is the closest I’ll ever get to my Italian grandmother’s (if I was Italian, that is!) homemade pasta.
A subtle, not overpowering chocolate bread pudding and house-made tiramisu provide wonderful closure to a fine meal.
As we depart, the maitre’d graciously ushers us out and asks us to come again. I almost feel like politely pulling him aside and asking, “Are you sure us outsiders are welcomed back?” I now feel at home here, amongst the locals.
Perhaps this is partly attributed to its tucked-away location in Roslindale Village, or even its relatively small interior dining room, non-existant waiting area, and no-reservations policy (be prepared to wait 1-2 hours unless you call ahead). And the décor is not Delfino’s strongsuit, either, unless cheesy wall murals of fruit and vegetables along with paper tablecloths tickle your fancy.
But oh, the food has a wonderful way of converting all of the non-believers. Our cordial server impressively recites the evening menu’s specials, down to the last ingredient. The meal is terrifically paced, allowing friendly conversation, wine, and flavors on the palate to linger just long enough throughout the evening.
One appetizer special of a tuna tartare – served in a martini glass – is abundant in volume and taste, mixed with avocado, cherry tomatoes and lime juice. This was the version I’d anticipated but sadly never received two weeks prior at the much more acclaimed Radius. As for entrees, another special of halibut was well cooked in a white wine sauce reduction. My veal marsala tenderloin, cooked perfectly medium rare, may have been one of the finest cuts I’ve sampled in some time, possessing very little fat that often bogs down other versions. Its wild mushroom Marsala sauce was rich in flavor, as was the herb risotto, which was a tad heavy given the denseness of the sauce (although still quite good). House-made pappardelle – ribbon noodles tossed with shrimp and arugula in pink sauce, sounds simple in preparation, but let me assure you is the closest I’ll ever get to my Italian grandmother’s (if I was Italian, that is!) homemade pasta.
A subtle, not overpowering chocolate bread pudding and house-made tiramisu provide wonderful closure to a fine meal.
As we depart, the maitre’d graciously ushers us out and asks us to come again. I almost feel like politely pulling him aside and asking, “Are you sure us outsiders are welcomed back?” I now feel at home here, amongst the locals.
Radius Worth Breaking the Bank Over
Celebrity chef Michael Schlow apparently can do no wrong nowadays (other than his premature exit on Top Chef Masters). His culinary empire grows ever stronger by the day. Via Matta remains one of Boston’s landmark dining destinations for fine dining and people watching, Alta Strada has expanded, and Latin tapa-inspired Tico recently opened its doors in the Back Bay. But ask any local foodie in the know, and they’ll all point to Radius and Schlow’s crowning achievement. Opened over a decade ago, it still warrants consideration as one of the city’s top three or four dining establishments. It’s no small irony that Radius is located in a converted bank vault in Boston’s Financial District. Expense accounts be damned, this is a restaurant customers loosen their wallets for and splurge on those special occasions.
Set in a rotund, white room cloaked with crimson colors and thick columns, Radius’s ambience can best be classified as royal with chic. Shortly after being seated, you know you’re about to be treated like royalty. Behold, the Rotating Servers of the Dining Table, decked out in blue navy blazers. Listen to techno music pulsating over the quite room. Sure, eating at a rave-like event at Caesar’s Palace sounds quirky, but it somehow works.
The seven-course menu is a smorgasbord of Mediterranean, French, and Asian-inspired dishes that work for the most part, and when Schlow is truly on his game as he is this evening, they are innovative and transporting. This is intended to be seductive fare, after all. Take, for instance, ginger poached muschovy duck served atop a crostini with spicy coconut caramel and grilled scallion compote. Sounds highly appealing, but Schlow turns the flavors up a notch by pairing with a pineapple-mango shooter. The combination of flavors is positively delectable, and I allowed it to linger on my palate long after I’d taken my last bite-sip. Tempura set atop seaweed salad-inspired soba noodles is also unusual and memorable in both presentation and taste. Not as successful, however, was an appetizer of ahi tuna tartare with avocado puree, ikura, and citrus, which proved disappointingly bland given the lack of citrusy sweetness.
Onto the main courses, which included a wonderful slow-roasted Scottish salmon set atop a potato cake. Schlow’s legendary slow-roasted ribeye served alongside robuchon potatoes, pearl onions, and drizzled with red wine sauce was perfectly cooked (medium rare) and seasoned. For pre-dessert, an odd-sounding celery sorbet – its description sure to evoke several dry heaves from less adventurous diners – atop a peanut butter base was a tasty triumph. It’s a pity there wasn’t more of it, although I had to remind myself that it was merely a precursor to the decadent pilon de chocolat, a dense, rotund mound of heavenly bittersweet chocolate, although the accompanying fenugreek ice cream was superfluous and slightly off-putting in flavor.
Overall, Radius earns high marks for its doting service and awe-inspiring dishes. Some critics may nitpick about Schlow’s smaller-in-stature portion sizes, but it’s his emphasis on larger-than-life ingredients that elevate his dishes from most of his counterparts around town. When you’re breaking the bank when dining out, rest assured that the high quality of Schlow’s cuisine ensures that there is no highway ‘dining’ robbery transpiring at Radius.
Set in a rotund, white room cloaked with crimson colors and thick columns, Radius’s ambience can best be classified as royal with chic. Shortly after being seated, you know you’re about to be treated like royalty. Behold, the Rotating Servers of the Dining Table, decked out in blue navy blazers. Listen to techno music pulsating over the quite room. Sure, eating at a rave-like event at Caesar’s Palace sounds quirky, but it somehow works.
The seven-course menu is a smorgasbord of Mediterranean, French, and Asian-inspired dishes that work for the most part, and when Schlow is truly on his game as he is this evening, they are innovative and transporting. This is intended to be seductive fare, after all. Take, for instance, ginger poached muschovy duck served atop a crostini with spicy coconut caramel and grilled scallion compote. Sounds highly appealing, but Schlow turns the flavors up a notch by pairing with a pineapple-mango shooter. The combination of flavors is positively delectable, and I allowed it to linger on my palate long after I’d taken my last bite-sip. Tempura set atop seaweed salad-inspired soba noodles is also unusual and memorable in both presentation and taste. Not as successful, however, was an appetizer of ahi tuna tartare with avocado puree, ikura, and citrus, which proved disappointingly bland given the lack of citrusy sweetness.
Onto the main courses, which included a wonderful slow-roasted Scottish salmon set atop a potato cake. Schlow’s legendary slow-roasted ribeye served alongside robuchon potatoes, pearl onions, and drizzled with red wine sauce was perfectly cooked (medium rare) and seasoned. For pre-dessert, an odd-sounding celery sorbet – its description sure to evoke several dry heaves from less adventurous diners – atop a peanut butter base was a tasty triumph. It’s a pity there wasn’t more of it, although I had to remind myself that it was merely a precursor to the decadent pilon de chocolat, a dense, rotund mound of heavenly bittersweet chocolate, although the accompanying fenugreek ice cream was superfluous and slightly off-putting in flavor.
Overall, Radius earns high marks for its doting service and awe-inspiring dishes. Some critics may nitpick about Schlow’s smaller-in-stature portion sizes, but it’s his emphasis on larger-than-life ingredients that elevate his dishes from most of his counterparts around town. When you’re breaking the bank when dining out, rest assured that the high quality of Schlow’s cuisine ensures that there is no highway ‘dining’ robbery transpiring at Radius.
Monday, April 11, 2011
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.
Monday, March 21, 2011
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)