A good friend recently asked me for suggestions on where to eat before a show at the Wang Theatre, I thought my email response might be a helpful (albeit abbreviated) guide. A few thoughts on each place listed below.
Pigalle is excellent, its the sister restaurant of Marco. Its a pricey menu and French food is something I enjoy but have very little exposure to (meaning I'm hesitatnt to drop a lot of $ on food I dont understand). They used to do a theatre night menu which was a $40/person 3 course pre fixe menu, if they still do its a great deal. Inside, the place is quaint and cute. Marc Orfaly, the chef/owner, still actually cooks there and his wife is usually hostessing, which I think is pretty cool.
Not too far from there, and easily walkable in a hurry, is Mistral which is widely considered the king of fine dining in Boston (http://www.mistralbistro.com/). It's pricey, but very, very, good and more accessible cuisine in my opinion. By that I mean French/mediterranean ispired food, recognizebale dishes with classic method and interesting twists rather than 'what the hell is that'. Its easily one of the sexiest restaurants in Boston. I'd bet they do pre fixe on theatre night also. Their sister restaurants are Sorrellina (my bar-none fave in the enitre city), Moo and...
Teatro; total stud of a restaurant meant to attract theatre crowd and about 2 minute walk from the Wang. Very reasonable prices, very high quality food, very sexy atmospehre. Its in a cool space formerly occupied by a Jewish temple. Great menu, good service. This place is an absolute no-lose. Consistent, interesting, cant say enough good things about it. The only forewarning, it gets very loud and very packed on theatre nigts. http://www.teatroboston.com/#/home
Also, Ivy is a pretty cool spot and very close. Interestng and upscale Italian small plates style menu, meant to share and experiment. Very intimate upscale feel. I've had good experiences here. They do a cool wine concept too, meant to make you not worry about price. They have soemthing like 50 different wines for $26/bottle. Food is reasonably priced, but again, intended to be small plates and encourage multiple courses. http://www.ivyrestaurantgroup.com/
Market is in the new W hotel, right by the theatre (http://www.marketbyjgboston.com/). Its been branded by Jean Georges Vongerichten of Jean Georges Manhattan fame. His NYC spot has long been considered among the top restaurants in the US. To be honest, I really dont know much about this place othen than to say I'm sure itll be about as trendy/modern as you will find in Boston. Prices look reasonable (relatively speaking) and its definitely a nightlife scene/culinary hot spot. I worry it could just be an established chef resting on his laurel's, because I really havent heard any firm critiques either way.
Other names that might pop up are Erbaluce, BiNA and Rustic Kitchen. Personally, I'd suggest staying away from these places. I dont have much positive to say about them other than the fact they are indeed, restaurants near the Wang. I particularly hate Erbaluce.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Mike's Pastry vs. Modern Pastry
Make no mistake, choosing between Mike's and Modern is a win-win. But, if forced to pick, there is no question in my mind which side of Hanover street I'm walking on.
For decades the two bake shops have stood diagonal from one another on the North End's main drag, each glimpsing out of the corner of his eye to keep the enemy in sight. Neither a flinch by change of menu nor a blink by commercialization in roughly 70 years.
Mike's, unquestionably the bigger name, occupies a huge space at 300 Hanover St. If you have the patience to push through the throngs on the neighborhoods busiest block, then wait in line at the neighborhoods busiest confectioner, the interior is a site to behold. The amount of sweets on display and volume of goods that are on hand is staggering. This place makes Willy Wonka's digs look like a slop bucket at Denny's.
Lines start on the sidewalk and become a jumbled, unruly mess inside. People jockey for position, surrounding the cafe tabes on the left wall and L shaped counter on the right and back walls. Behind the counter there are floor to ceiling shelves and refrigerators containing two bakers dozen of every Italian treat you've ever seen, and two bakers dozen more of things you've never seen.
Of all the breads and biscotti, mascarpone and marzipan, there is nothing that surpasses the splendor of Mike's Pistachio Macaroons. Each is an electric green square cookie, crisp and hard on the outside but gooey like a marshmallow on the inside. Large pieces of pistachio add a strong crunch and intensify the the salty, sweet and nutty taste. A dusting of powdered sugar tops off the decadent desert.
A close second is the Lobster Tail at Mike's. The cornucopia shaped pastry is a flaky, airy shell filled with a weightless sweet cream filling. The crackling crust crunches as you bite down and expels sugary vanilla center. The texture differential is utopian and the flavor, sensational.
I don't often meet a cannoli I don't like, and Mike's is no exception. They offer several variations (think standard, chocolate coated, chocolate chips, chocolate filled and every permutation thereof). I've had a handful of other treats and have rarely been disappointed.
The way I judge my Italian bakeries comes down to two things; Biscotti and Ricotta Pie (which is actually more of a cake). That said, Modern takes the cake...or pie in this case.
Modern is on the same stretch of Hanover as Mike's, but is slightly more demure. The storefront is smaller, the space is smaller and the lines are smaller. Despite the recent interior upgrades, the facade has remained unchanged since the 1930's. Modern indeed.
I've tried each and every cookie and biscotti (several times over) but my two favorite are the Almond Biscotti and the Anise Biscotti. The Almond variety is a pale straw color, with many cross sections of nut exposed on the surface walls. The cookie snaps and crunches hard when you bite it, making the almonds themselves a softer bite in each mouthful. Its density is impressive.
The Anise cookie is darker in color, similar to the crust of Wonder bread after being in the toaster. The texture is slightly softer and significantly more airy. When you bite it, the feeling is much like biting into a piece of crostini or bruschetta. Both are a prefect compliment to your espresso or Sambuca.
What settles the discussion, leaving no room for debate, is the Ricotta Pie at Modern. The Pie, which is much more like a cake, is a perfect golden color. It has the sheen indicative of a well applied egg wash before baking. The contents of the pie are not apparent when it is entact. Once a piece is cut you can see the fabled opaline filling. Its coarse sweet cheese contents stand surrounded by the buttery cake on its top, bottom and back. With a dusting of powdered sugar, the pastry is complete.
It's a good day anytime you have a chance to go to either Mike's or Modern. I doubt you will be disappointed with either. The Pistachio Macaroons, Lobster Tails and Cannoli's at Mike's are legendary, but to satiate my post-pasta appetite I go for the Ricotta Pie and Biscotti at Modern.
For decades the two bake shops have stood diagonal from one another on the North End's main drag, each glimpsing out of the corner of his eye to keep the enemy in sight. Neither a flinch by change of menu nor a blink by commercialization in roughly 70 years.
Mike's, unquestionably the bigger name, occupies a huge space at 300 Hanover St. If you have the patience to push through the throngs on the neighborhoods busiest block, then wait in line at the neighborhoods busiest confectioner, the interior is a site to behold. The amount of sweets on display and volume of goods that are on hand is staggering. This place makes Willy Wonka's digs look like a slop bucket at Denny's.
Lines start on the sidewalk and become a jumbled, unruly mess inside. People jockey for position, surrounding the cafe tabes on the left wall and L shaped counter on the right and back walls. Behind the counter there are floor to ceiling shelves and refrigerators containing two bakers dozen of every Italian treat you've ever seen, and two bakers dozen more of things you've never seen.
Of all the breads and biscotti, mascarpone and marzipan, there is nothing that surpasses the splendor of Mike's Pistachio Macaroons. Each is an electric green square cookie, crisp and hard on the outside but gooey like a marshmallow on the inside. Large pieces of pistachio add a strong crunch and intensify the the salty, sweet and nutty taste. A dusting of powdered sugar tops off the decadent desert.
A close second is the Lobster Tail at Mike's. The cornucopia shaped pastry is a flaky, airy shell filled with a weightless sweet cream filling. The crackling crust crunches as you bite down and expels sugary vanilla center. The texture differential is utopian and the flavor, sensational.
I don't often meet a cannoli I don't like, and Mike's is no exception. They offer several variations (think standard, chocolate coated, chocolate chips, chocolate filled and every permutation thereof). I've had a handful of other treats and have rarely been disappointed.
The way I judge my Italian bakeries comes down to two things; Biscotti and Ricotta Pie (which is actually more of a cake). That said, Modern takes the cake...or pie in this case.
Modern is on the same stretch of Hanover as Mike's, but is slightly more demure. The storefront is smaller, the space is smaller and the lines are smaller. Despite the recent interior upgrades, the facade has remained unchanged since the 1930's. Modern indeed.
I've tried each and every cookie and biscotti (several times over) but my two favorite are the Almond Biscotti and the Anise Biscotti. The Almond variety is a pale straw color, with many cross sections of nut exposed on the surface walls. The cookie snaps and crunches hard when you bite it, making the almonds themselves a softer bite in each mouthful. Its density is impressive.
The Anise cookie is darker in color, similar to the crust of Wonder bread after being in the toaster. The texture is slightly softer and significantly more airy. When you bite it, the feeling is much like biting into a piece of crostini or bruschetta. Both are a prefect compliment to your espresso or Sambuca.
What settles the discussion, leaving no room for debate, is the Ricotta Pie at Modern. The Pie, which is much more like a cake, is a perfect golden color. It has the sheen indicative of a well applied egg wash before baking. The contents of the pie are not apparent when it is entact. Once a piece is cut you can see the fabled opaline filling. Its coarse sweet cheese contents stand surrounded by the buttery cake on its top, bottom and back. With a dusting of powdered sugar, the pastry is complete.
It's a good day anytime you have a chance to go to either Mike's or Modern. I doubt you will be disappointed with either. The Pistachio Macaroons, Lobster Tails and Cannoli's at Mike's are legendary, but to satiate my post-pasta appetite I go for the Ricotta Pie and Biscotti at Modern.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Bin 26 Enoteca
You know how sometimes you can meet somebody and decide right away that you don't like them? Then, you get to know them a little better and try your best, and even start to like them a little bit, but soon thereafter realize your initial assessment was correct. Well, if it makes any sense, that's how I feel about Bin 26.
By all accounts, it should be a place I become a regular at. I've been bitching for quite a while now that Boston needs an enoteca and here one falls right into my lap and what do I do? I reject it.
First, it should come as no surprise that a wine bar in Beacon Hill is wrought with shitty attitudes and pretense, and it is, but it's not that simple. Bin 26 seems to operate on the artifice that their establishment is inviting and welcoming. If they were just plain arrogant, I'd be fine with that. Honestly, given their business and where they're located, I'd expect it. But, they very meekly attempt to mask it and that frustrates the hell out of me.
I stopped in on the early side, maybe 6-ish, on a Friday to check the place out. It was empty. The decor is impressive. A well retained classic Beacon Hill element meets lighter colors and sleeker lines. The result is perfectly fitting for their business. The design projected the comfort of old Boston and an unmistakable style imparted by sampling a variety of wines while sitting in a progressive Beacon Hill bar. Before I could even take it in, we were hastily greeted by a man who will undoubtedly spend his summer on Martha's Vineyard.
Despite the room being vacant, save for two folks at the bar and a dining party of three, he asked "Were we expecting you?" as if we were the annoying in-laws showing up at his house unannounced. I impetuously responded by telling him that we'd be sitting at the bar, which is currently 3% occupied. He then asked us if we'd like to hang our coats and when I offered him mine to take he pointed across the room, back to where we'd entered, to a common coat rack. I hung my coat on the back of my chair.
The first page of their wine menu pays homage to those libations with which most aspirant sommelier's palates began to develop (or decay); Boones Farm and Thunderbird. Yes, you read that right.
The gesture of humility on the part of the enoteca is pleasant and indicated to me that while they enjoy wine and take it seriously, they want it to be fun.
Upon further review, the wine menu seems affected and counter intuitive, mostly because of it's awkward set-up. Each page starts with a little background or description of each choice and is then followed by several wines of that region or varietal. Some of the descriptions are helpful, though most tail off into some sort of unrelated exposition about whoever wrote them.
This portion of the menu, which takes up most of the binder, is followed by a more traditional menu structure of all wines previously listed. By the time I got to it, I was so pissed off that I had spent 20 minutes thumbing through the last bullshit portion I almost just ordered a beer.
Bin 26 offers over 50 wines by the glass and over 200 by the bottle. Anything that they offer by the glass, they also offer in 250 ml, 500 ml and 750 ml (standard bottle size). The wine we ordered ended up being mediocre, it was a young Syrah-Nero D' Avola blend ($36). The color was a deep purple, eggplant even. The body exposed no indication of Nero D'Avola, and only a meek indication of it's presence on the finish. It was a lot of what I dislike about Syrah. Poor balance, little complexity and limited structure. Only the Nero hint on the tail end offered a distinguishable interest in taste, with it's lively, ripe berry tinge. When I asked what the proportions of each grape were the bartender spouted off something completely irrelevant, indicating that the extent of her wine knowledge consisted of what she seemingly memorized before her shift. It sounded like the words she was saying meant nothing to her, as if she were just imitating sounds that she thought I might glean some meaning from. I reciprocated with a frozen gaze, my question simply remained unanswered.
The food sounded very good, which makes me wonder why they'd list it on a diner-style paper place mat instead of a bound menu. We ordered appetizers, and enjoyed each of them thoroughly. Marinated Olives with Marcona Almonds were a great bar snack. The olives were ripe and plump. A light herb seasoning and toss in olive oil gave the heaping portion a fresh, clean taste, while the almonds provided a crunchy texture differential to liven up the dish ($7). The White Anchovies with Piquiello Peppers were of particular interest. The tiny fish, with their fabled salty flavor, had a lemon-citrus note that set them apart. Sweet fire engine red strings of piquiello pepper were strewn atop the small sea treat ($7). The Risotto Balls Stuffed with Pecorino were golf ball sized, and fried with a light, yet crunchy coating. One bite revealed a velvety, milky cheese center ($8). The rest of the industry, apart from Applebee's maybe, refers to the latter item as Arancini.
The menu includes portions dedicated to soup, salad, charcuterie, cheese, pasta, meat and fish. There was almost nothing that sounded unappealing to me, including the prices, which range from $5 sorpressata and bresola to a $35 veal chop with grilled with lentils and chiggias beets. Most entrees are priced in the low to mid $20's and include things like yellow fin tuna wrapped in pancetta with aromatic herbs and fennel ($21) and cocoa tagliatelle with porcini ragout, scented with nepitella ($16).
I suspect my experience would have been different had I ventured into the land of meat and pasta, I bet I would have enjoyed myself more, but I didn't go that route. While the appetizers were very good, and the wine selection was solid, I couldn't shake my frustration with the person who greeted us or my shock at the callowness of the bartender. I was put-off immediately upon entering, which is no small feat considering how much I enjoy the space visually and have yearned for this concept to materialize locally. I was frustrated with the service and left confused as to what the true tenet is at Bin 26.
By all accounts, it should be a place I become a regular at. I've been bitching for quite a while now that Boston needs an enoteca and here one falls right into my lap and what do I do? I reject it.
First, it should come as no surprise that a wine bar in Beacon Hill is wrought with shitty attitudes and pretense, and it is, but it's not that simple. Bin 26 seems to operate on the artifice that their establishment is inviting and welcoming. If they were just plain arrogant, I'd be fine with that. Honestly, given their business and where they're located, I'd expect it. But, they very meekly attempt to mask it and that frustrates the hell out of me.
I stopped in on the early side, maybe 6-ish, on a Friday to check the place out. It was empty. The decor is impressive. A well retained classic Beacon Hill element meets lighter colors and sleeker lines. The result is perfectly fitting for their business. The design projected the comfort of old Boston and an unmistakable style imparted by sampling a variety of wines while sitting in a progressive Beacon Hill bar. Before I could even take it in, we were hastily greeted by a man who will undoubtedly spend his summer on Martha's Vineyard.
Despite the room being vacant, save for two folks at the bar and a dining party of three, he asked "Were we expecting you?" as if we were the annoying in-laws showing up at his house unannounced. I impetuously responded by telling him that we'd be sitting at the bar, which is currently 3% occupied. He then asked us if we'd like to hang our coats and when I offered him mine to take he pointed across the room, back to where we'd entered, to a common coat rack. I hung my coat on the back of my chair.
The first page of their wine menu pays homage to those libations with which most aspirant sommelier's palates began to develop (or decay); Boones Farm and Thunderbird. Yes, you read that right.
The gesture of humility on the part of the enoteca is pleasant and indicated to me that while they enjoy wine and take it seriously, they want it to be fun.
Upon further review, the wine menu seems affected and counter intuitive, mostly because of it's awkward set-up. Each page starts with a little background or description of each choice and is then followed by several wines of that region or varietal. Some of the descriptions are helpful, though most tail off into some sort of unrelated exposition about whoever wrote them.
This portion of the menu, which takes up most of the binder, is followed by a more traditional menu structure of all wines previously listed. By the time I got to it, I was so pissed off that I had spent 20 minutes thumbing through the last bullshit portion I almost just ordered a beer.
Bin 26 offers over 50 wines by the glass and over 200 by the bottle. Anything that they offer by the glass, they also offer in 250 ml, 500 ml and 750 ml (standard bottle size). The wine we ordered ended up being mediocre, it was a young Syrah-Nero D' Avola blend ($36). The color was a deep purple, eggplant even. The body exposed no indication of Nero D'Avola, and only a meek indication of it's presence on the finish. It was a lot of what I dislike about Syrah. Poor balance, little complexity and limited structure. Only the Nero hint on the tail end offered a distinguishable interest in taste, with it's lively, ripe berry tinge. When I asked what the proportions of each grape were the bartender spouted off something completely irrelevant, indicating that the extent of her wine knowledge consisted of what she seemingly memorized before her shift. It sounded like the words she was saying meant nothing to her, as if she were just imitating sounds that she thought I might glean some meaning from. I reciprocated with a frozen gaze, my question simply remained unanswered.
The food sounded very good, which makes me wonder why they'd list it on a diner-style paper place mat instead of a bound menu. We ordered appetizers, and enjoyed each of them thoroughly. Marinated Olives with Marcona Almonds were a great bar snack. The olives were ripe and plump. A light herb seasoning and toss in olive oil gave the heaping portion a fresh, clean taste, while the almonds provided a crunchy texture differential to liven up the dish ($7). The White Anchovies with Piquiello Peppers were of particular interest. The tiny fish, with their fabled salty flavor, had a lemon-citrus note that set them apart. Sweet fire engine red strings of piquiello pepper were strewn atop the small sea treat ($7). The Risotto Balls Stuffed with Pecorino were golf ball sized, and fried with a light, yet crunchy coating. One bite revealed a velvety, milky cheese center ($8). The rest of the industry, apart from Applebee's maybe, refers to the latter item as Arancini.
The menu includes portions dedicated to soup, salad, charcuterie, cheese, pasta, meat and fish. There was almost nothing that sounded unappealing to me, including the prices, which range from $5 sorpressata and bresola to a $35 veal chop with grilled with lentils and chiggias beets. Most entrees are priced in the low to mid $20's and include things like yellow fin tuna wrapped in pancetta with aromatic herbs and fennel ($21) and cocoa tagliatelle with porcini ragout, scented with nepitella ($16).
I suspect my experience would have been different had I ventured into the land of meat and pasta, I bet I would have enjoyed myself more, but I didn't go that route. While the appetizers were very good, and the wine selection was solid, I couldn't shake my frustration with the person who greeted us or my shock at the callowness of the bartender. I was put-off immediately upon entering, which is no small feat considering how much I enjoy the space visually and have yearned for this concept to materialize locally. I was frustrated with the service and left confused as to what the true tenet is at Bin 26.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Fall Dinner: Pork Tenderloin with Nutmeg Sage Cream Sauce, Sweet Potatoes and Brussel Sprouts
This is one of my favorite seasonal dishes. I'm usually in the mood to make it for the first time every year once we have one of those quintessential fall days. It's also a great hearty meal to make throughout the entire winter.
You will need:
-Pork Tenderloin (1 1/2 lb)
-3 Medium Sweet Potatoes
-Brussels Sprouts (3/4 pound)
-Walnuts
-Heavy Cream (1 pint)
-Sage (6 oz)
-Nutmeg
-Salt
-Black Pepper
-Brown Sugar (one table spoon)
-Olive Oil
Serves Two
Instructions:
Start by preheating your oven to 310 degrees and filling a stock pot with water to boil potatoes. Peel potatoes and cut them into roughly 1/2" cubes. Place in boiling water and allow roughly 15 minutes to soften. Remove potatoes form water and place in metal bowl or mixer. Roughly mash or whip and season with salt and pepper.
Cut brussels sprouts in half and place in mixing bowl. Add 1-2 table spoons of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Lightly toss and spread seasoned brussels sprouts on baking sheet. Place in oven for roughly 20 minutes. Brussels Sprouts should be tender but not mushy and retain some give and crunch when bitten.
While the oven is warming up begin trimming any excess fat from the tenderloin, at bottom is a helpful trimming guide. Heat large skillet over medium-high heat and coat pan with olive oil. Season pork with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Once the pork has reached room temperature and is no longer chilled and the pan has come up to medium-high, place pork in the pan and lightly brown on all sides to sear. Remember, you are searing the tenderloin, not cooking it through. This means there should be only a thin layer of medium-brown on the outside of the tenderloin but it should be raw all the way through. Once seared, remove from pan and place on a rack in a roasting pan. Tenderloin will take roughly 30 minutes to cook, meat thermometer reading of 150-155 degrees farenheit. Remove from oven and allow roughly 15 minutes for pork to rest so that the juices do not run out when you cut in and it will remain tender.
Begin sauce by slicing 3 sage leaves in strips, length wise. Using the pan that you seared the pork loin in, add heavy cream, salt, pepper, 1/2 tea spoon of nutmeg and sage to a sauce pan. Once ingredients have combined and the sauce pan has come up to temperature over medium heat, allow time to reduce, roughly 5 minutes. Once the sauce has thickened and reduced by approximately 1/2 it will be done.
In a separate pan add 1/3 stick of butter over medium heat. Once melted add 1 tbs. brown sugar, stirring together with a wooden spoon. Be very careful with heat control, brown sugar can burn very quickly. Once the mixture is combined and coats the pan add walnuts. Toss the walnuts in the mixture and keep over medium heat to bring out the toasty, nutty flavor. This will take around 3 minutes. Once walnuts are thoroughly coated, remove from pan and place on top of sweet potatoes to garnish.
Start plating by placing mashed potatoes in the center of the plate and garnish with candied walnuts. On one side place brussels sprouts in half moon area that's available. Slice pork on a bias in roughly 1/4"-1/2" pieces. Place them offset on one another in a half ring pattern on the open portion of the plate. Use table spoon to liberally ladle sauce over pork.
I would choose an earthy, medium to full bodied red wine with this meal. In fact, it would be a perfect excuse to spend a little extra dough on an older nebbiolo or barbaresco.
You will need:
-Pork Tenderloin (1 1/2 lb)
-3 Medium Sweet Potatoes
-Brussels Sprouts (3/4 pound)
-Walnuts
-Heavy Cream (1 pint)
-Sage (6 oz)
-Nutmeg
-Salt
-Black Pepper
-Brown Sugar (one table spoon)
-Olive Oil
Serves Two
Instructions:
Start by preheating your oven to 310 degrees and filling a stock pot with water to boil potatoes. Peel potatoes and cut them into roughly 1/2" cubes. Place in boiling water and allow roughly 15 minutes to soften. Remove potatoes form water and place in metal bowl or mixer. Roughly mash or whip and season with salt and pepper.
Cut brussels sprouts in half and place in mixing bowl. Add 1-2 table spoons of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Lightly toss and spread seasoned brussels sprouts on baking sheet. Place in oven for roughly 20 minutes. Brussels Sprouts should be tender but not mushy and retain some give and crunch when bitten.
While the oven is warming up begin trimming any excess fat from the tenderloin, at bottom is a helpful trimming guide. Heat large skillet over medium-high heat and coat pan with olive oil. Season pork with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Once the pork has reached room temperature and is no longer chilled and the pan has come up to medium-high, place pork in the pan and lightly brown on all sides to sear. Remember, you are searing the tenderloin, not cooking it through. This means there should be only a thin layer of medium-brown on the outside of the tenderloin but it should be raw all the way through. Once seared, remove from pan and place on a rack in a roasting pan. Tenderloin will take roughly 30 minutes to cook, meat thermometer reading of 150-155 degrees farenheit. Remove from oven and allow roughly 15 minutes for pork to rest so that the juices do not run out when you cut in and it will remain tender.
Begin sauce by slicing 3 sage leaves in strips, length wise. Using the pan that you seared the pork loin in, add heavy cream, salt, pepper, 1/2 tea spoon of nutmeg and sage to a sauce pan. Once ingredients have combined and the sauce pan has come up to temperature over medium heat, allow time to reduce, roughly 5 minutes. Once the sauce has thickened and reduced by approximately 1/2 it will be done.
In a separate pan add 1/3 stick of butter over medium heat. Once melted add 1 tbs. brown sugar, stirring together with a wooden spoon. Be very careful with heat control, brown sugar can burn very quickly. Once the mixture is combined and coats the pan add walnuts. Toss the walnuts in the mixture and keep over medium heat to bring out the toasty, nutty flavor. This will take around 3 minutes. Once walnuts are thoroughly coated, remove from pan and place on top of sweet potatoes to garnish.
Start plating by placing mashed potatoes in the center of the plate and garnish with candied walnuts. On one side place brussels sprouts in half moon area that's available. Slice pork on a bias in roughly 1/4"-1/2" pieces. Place them offset on one another in a half ring pattern on the open portion of the plate. Use table spoon to liberally ladle sauce over pork.
I would choose an earthy, medium to full bodied red wine with this meal. In fact, it would be a perfect excuse to spend a little extra dough on an older nebbiolo or barbaresco.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Carlo's Cucina Italiana
I've lived about one mile from Carlo's for nearly 7 years and never noticed it, it's been there for nearly 10. Just last month I received three totally unrelated recommendations for the Italian dive within 2 weeks of each other. Once I finally made note of its location, in the heart of the college ghetto, I couldn't help but assume that it, like the social scene in the rest of the neighborhood, is not as "authentic" as the obligatory moniker intends. After all, across the street is Mitti's (formerly Rednecks Roast Beef) and Sunset Tap. Has anyone ever gone to Mitti's and expected legitimate barbecue or gone to Sunset assuming there would be actual Mexican food? Harpers Ferry, just across the intersection, is a hipster hot spot for live bands; cover bands. In retrospect, I think one of the main reasons that I eventually made a point of eating there was because it bothered me to not know what it was like, even though I had already decided it would probably suck. As it turns out, Carlo's was one of the most gratifying meals that I've ever had.
After waiting fifteen minutes I was seated so close to our neighbors that I could count the cloves of garlic in their red sauce, which, I had to admit, looked very good. Tables are in rows of four along each side of the space with one row of two-tops down the middle. This creates two narrow waitress paths, one to the kitchen and one to the seatless bar used for waitress cocktailing and take-out orders. The Room is dim, with windows only where you enter the restaurant. The murals on the walls, reminiscent of those at Papa Gino's Pizza, and Sistine Chapel rip-off on the ceiling raise further speculation as to the self proclaimed authenticity of the cuisine.
Service, like the menu and space, is unpolished. Our waitress, in a black Carlo's t-shirt and black jeans, moved intently and did not make small talk. Her hair was pulled back and it was clear she was working. Despite her lack of polish, she wrote nothing down and simply nodded when I placed an order. Still, everything came promptly and exactly how I asked for it.
Specials were limited but each one was enticing. I took advantage of an appetizer from this menu. Fresh, plump figs were baked to a soft, honey flesh finish. They were then quartered and topped with a dollop of moist and tangy goat cheese in the prefect proportion. In the middle of the plate was a bed of crisp, forest green arugula lightly tossed in a savory balsamic vinaigrette ($7.95). It was the perfect precursor to Melanzane Ripiene ($8.95). The eggplant was sliced thin and covered with a golden, buttery breading and wrapped around creamy, basil ricotta. The cheese gently oozed out and met the reservoir of carmine hue plum tomato sauce which collected after spilling over the top and down the sides of the rolatini. Both appetizers were a large enough portion to share, but I don't foresee allowing a morsel to escape my fork on my next visit.
Entrees provided a legitimate touch of home style authenticity. Potatoes, vinegar peppers and thinly sliced white mushroom buttons were sauteed in the juices of lean strips of tender chicken and sweet italian pork sausage. A pungent brown gravy, rich with pan drippings and vinegar, finished the plating. The spice from the peppers was cut perfectly by the starchy potatoes and freshness from the fennel in the sausage. There must have been two whole sausage, an entire chicken breast, a half dozen peppers and two potatoes on the dish ($16.95). Still, I was disappointed that ordering from the house specials section of the menu doesn't entitle you to a side of rigatoni marinara like the rest of the dinner menu.
The wine list is limited, barely passable. Between the house wines and reserve list there are roughly 20 choices, the most expensive is $85, a Stags Leap Cabernet. Most wines fall between $21 and $25. I had a very forgettable Masciarelli Montepulciano. The bouquet was particularly acidic, even for a Montepulicano, and did not soften. The ruby color held a dry, smokey libation with little depth that still managed to be rough around the edges ($23.95).
Deserts were limited to tiramisu, cannoli, flan and spumoni, all are $4.95. The cannoli was fresh and cool. Crisp, well entact flakey shell sheltered a sweet, milky, mascarpone filling. A dusting of powdered sugar garnished the traditional Italian desert and reminded me there's a reason why some things are deemed classics.
Restaurants Like Carlo's make up for so much highly touted mediocrity throughout the city. I was thrilled to have a mistaken impression and dissapointed that I've let so much time pass while I could have been eating at Carlo's. The food is the real deal, pretty much the only authentic anything in the neighborhood.
After waiting fifteen minutes I was seated so close to our neighbors that I could count the cloves of garlic in their red sauce, which, I had to admit, looked very good. Tables are in rows of four along each side of the space with one row of two-tops down the middle. This creates two narrow waitress paths, one to the kitchen and one to the seatless bar used for waitress cocktailing and take-out orders. The Room is dim, with windows only where you enter the restaurant. The murals on the walls, reminiscent of those at Papa Gino's Pizza, and Sistine Chapel rip-off on the ceiling raise further speculation as to the self proclaimed authenticity of the cuisine.
Service, like the menu and space, is unpolished. Our waitress, in a black Carlo's t-shirt and black jeans, moved intently and did not make small talk. Her hair was pulled back and it was clear she was working. Despite her lack of polish, she wrote nothing down and simply nodded when I placed an order. Still, everything came promptly and exactly how I asked for it.
Specials were limited but each one was enticing. I took advantage of an appetizer from this menu. Fresh, plump figs were baked to a soft, honey flesh finish. They were then quartered and topped with a dollop of moist and tangy goat cheese in the prefect proportion. In the middle of the plate was a bed of crisp, forest green arugula lightly tossed in a savory balsamic vinaigrette ($7.95). It was the perfect precursor to Melanzane Ripiene ($8.95). The eggplant was sliced thin and covered with a golden, buttery breading and wrapped around creamy, basil ricotta. The cheese gently oozed out and met the reservoir of carmine hue plum tomato sauce which collected after spilling over the top and down the sides of the rolatini. Both appetizers were a large enough portion to share, but I don't foresee allowing a morsel to escape my fork on my next visit.
Entrees provided a legitimate touch of home style authenticity. Potatoes, vinegar peppers and thinly sliced white mushroom buttons were sauteed in the juices of lean strips of tender chicken and sweet italian pork sausage. A pungent brown gravy, rich with pan drippings and vinegar, finished the plating. The spice from the peppers was cut perfectly by the starchy potatoes and freshness from the fennel in the sausage. There must have been two whole sausage, an entire chicken breast, a half dozen peppers and two potatoes on the dish ($16.95). Still, I was disappointed that ordering from the house specials section of the menu doesn't entitle you to a side of rigatoni marinara like the rest of the dinner menu.
The wine list is limited, barely passable. Between the house wines and reserve list there are roughly 20 choices, the most expensive is $85, a Stags Leap Cabernet. Most wines fall between $21 and $25. I had a very forgettable Masciarelli Montepulciano. The bouquet was particularly acidic, even for a Montepulicano, and did not soften. The ruby color held a dry, smokey libation with little depth that still managed to be rough around the edges ($23.95).
Deserts were limited to tiramisu, cannoli, flan and spumoni, all are $4.95. The cannoli was fresh and cool. Crisp, well entact flakey shell sheltered a sweet, milky, mascarpone filling. A dusting of powdered sugar garnished the traditional Italian desert and reminded me there's a reason why some things are deemed classics.
Restaurants Like Carlo's make up for so much highly touted mediocrity throughout the city. I was thrilled to have a mistaken impression and dissapointed that I've let so much time pass while I could have been eating at Carlo's. The food is the real deal, pretty much the only authentic anything in the neighborhood.
Friday, August 31, 2007
...Some Wines I've Had in the Past Month
-Stefano Farina 2006- Barbera D'Asti ($8): The '06 is the first vintage from this Piedmont winemaker that I have not thoroughly enjoyed. The nose is acidic and off putting. The brilliant ruby color typical of a Barbera D'Asti shines and pours huge, fruit forward berry flavor. There is a touch of leather but the fruit is really what stands out. It lacks the depth and velvety refinement I've come to love from this wine.
-Il Bastardo 2004-Sangiovese ($10): The dark cranberry color and upfront black cherry notes coat your tongue with the unmistakable reminder that you are drinking a Sangiovese. There's a little bit of roughness and slight touch of vinegar that may remind you of what you drink at your favorite hole in the wall Italian joint. Overall, it's endearing, drinkable and something you don't have to think too hard about.
-Lamura 2004- Nero D' Avola ($8): Beware, this Sicilian grape may take over the world. The aroma is subtle but pleasant, with a mild floral bouquet. The dark color is striking, nearly an eggplant shade in your glass. The taste is distinct, complex yet surprisingly drinkable. Notes of blueberry and spice stand out, complimenting the velvety malolactic finish.
-Elio Grasso 2002- Barolo ($40): A true Barolo in every sense. This wine, from the Nebbiolo family of grapes, is bold and broad. The bouquet is spicy and floral. One conservative sip may overwhelm your palate with earth, berries, tobacco and anise. It's beautifully lush and a libation for a special occasion.
-Il Bastardo 2004-Sangiovese ($10): The dark cranberry color and upfront black cherry notes coat your tongue with the unmistakable reminder that you are drinking a Sangiovese. There's a little bit of roughness and slight touch of vinegar that may remind you of what you drink at your favorite hole in the wall Italian joint. Overall, it's endearing, drinkable and something you don't have to think too hard about.
-Lamura 2004- Nero D' Avola ($8): Beware, this Sicilian grape may take over the world. The aroma is subtle but pleasant, with a mild floral bouquet. The dark color is striking, nearly an eggplant shade in your glass. The taste is distinct, complex yet surprisingly drinkable. Notes of blueberry and spice stand out, complimenting the velvety malolactic finish.
-Elio Grasso 2002- Barolo ($40): A true Barolo in every sense. This wine, from the Nebbiolo family of grapes, is bold and broad. The bouquet is spicy and floral. One conservative sip may overwhelm your palate with earth, berries, tobacco and anise. It's beautifully lush and a libation for a special occasion.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
A Few Noteworthy Wine Picks
-Michelle Chiarlo 2004 Le Orme-Barbera D'Asti ($13): The wine is velvety but remains light and crisp. There is a touch of leather secreted by a plum nose and big, berry fruit flavors up front. It is a brilliant ruby color.
-Dry Creek 2005 Old Vines- Zinfandel ($16): Full bodied and buttery, hints of oak, plum and vanilla. Would work best with a hearty dish like steak and potatoes or meatballs with a simple red sauce.
-Big House Red-Blend ($11): Don't be alarmed by a screw top. Interesting blend which changes every year but often contains 6 or more grapes including Syrah, Petite Syrah, Carignan, Barbera, Zinfandel, Malbec and Mourvedre. I have rarely seen this many grapes in one bottle, but it works for me. Very acidic nose initially, which gives way to a ripe fruit bouquet. Hints of prune and black pepper.
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