The Forest Cafe - and online restaurant commentary

Last night, we had dinner at The Forest Cafe - a now venerable Cambridge institution. This place, for those who don't know it, is a neighborhood bar and Mexican restaurant. It's never been a fancy environment. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it was for a long time an absolute dive. But that made it all the more interesting when Jim Fahey started cooking sophisticated Mexican there some twenty two years ago. In the interim, Fayhey left, and has since returned. The decor has been somewhat updated, and we've become stuck in Iraq. But that's another story.

Anyway, for the record, our dinner last evening was enjoyable. The thing I wanted to write about here is not our dinner, or even this restaurant per se - but the peculiar phenomena of the write-ups this place has garnered on the web. Before going over there last evening, I chanced to read through a bunch of diner-generated comments on Yelp . I was astonished at the number, variety, and vehemence of the comments about this place. I can't recall seeing another restaurant that's attracted such a varied lot of comments. I would love to hear from anybody who can help me understand how it is possible for people to be so broadly distributed and impassioned in their perspectives on an inexpensive neighborhood joint. Any insight would be most welcome. Thanks.

Feedback on pastrami day at Savenor's and a lovely dinner out

Yesterday's pastrami tasting at Savenor's was fun for me.  It's very gratifying when people enjoy what you've created.  Even more so if they buy some - and quite a few did just that.  I look forward to subsequent events like this at a number of venues around town.  And next time, I'll try and post notice in advance.

Now as to dinner - after feeding people all day, I wanted to be served last night and we found our way to Nancy's Airfield Cafe in Stow, MA.  What a delight to find such warmth, hospitality and good food in such an out of the way and unique setting.  Our hosts, Don and Nancy, and our server Sharon could not have been nicer and the meal was very good.  

They were doing a South American themed series of specials this weekend in addition to their regular menu.  We started with a sampler of two empanadas - one meat, one cheese.  I confess, I never did get to try the cheese - so it must have been good.  Certainly the meat item was enjoyed - a savory filling of beef and pork.  I moved on to their muqueca - a Brazilian fish stew.   White-fleshed fish (barramundi?) and shrimp in a tomato based broth with a bit of coconut milk and palm oil.  My wife had the orange-ginger salmon (a regular menu offering).  We finished up with a shared chocolate bread pudding and espresso.  A thoroughly enjoyable visit. Nice people and good food.  And for those that are still paying attention the prices were very reasonable.  I can't recall having felt better served or having been provided with value as good out in this area.

If you're in the neighborhood, I recommend you try it.  Dinner is served only on Friday and Saturday nights.  Otherwise it's breakfast and lunch at Nancy's - which I'm sure would be terrific, plus you'd get to see the planes coming and going at the airfield right out the picture windows from the dining area.

 

Ethnic Foods Dining Out Meetup at Taiwan Cafe

Had dinner tonight with 7 strangers at the Taiwan Cafe on Chinatown's Oxford Street. This place has been praised by many on line reviewers. Some people who say they know claim it to be authentic Taiwanese food. I don't know Taiwanese food, so I can't say one way or the other.

The good news - A nice group of people arranged through Meetup.com. There were 18 RSVPs for the event, but only 8 of us showed. No matter, a perfect number for one large round table and a good size for conversation. I enjoyed meeting these folks. And I learned things. More diversity of age than I had anticipated.

Now as to the food - I was disappointed.

We had two dumplings - one pan fried and one steamed. The dipping sauce supplied carried more vinegar and malt and less spice than I would have preferred. Not bad, but not balanced and not exciting. The dumplings - both types - also failed to deliver any real excitement. Copious filling, but not much flavor.

We ordered 7 assorted entrees - Pork with Yellow Chives, Eggplant with Basil, Braised Spareribs in BBQ sauce, Squid and something, Jumbo Shrimp in Chili Sauce, String Beans with Dried Shrimp, and Spicy Salt and Pepper Chicken. Every item with the possible exception of the string beans was either way salty, way sweet or both. None exhibited any real clarity of flavor. The great thing about good chinese food is the way it allows the flavors of ingredients to really pop. None of that here. Frankly, the particulars don't even merit detailed analysis. I will however call out the string beans - which may not have been too salty (who can even tell at a certain sodium saturated point?) for some special attention. They had a generally dimpled appearance I associate with less than fresh vegetables and a musty character that I found unattractive. I've had the dried shrimp treatment before and don't recall feeling similarly, so I'm not sure what accounts for the mustiness.

Overall, well - nice people. Meetup Group seems like a good thing.
Taiwan Cafe - well...I'll try somewhere else next time.

Moussaka Meltdown

My wife and friend Andy tell me I need sensitivity training. Not sure if they're right (of course) but hey - the guy asked. There he was - in chef's whites, asking if everything was to our liking. Now Andy asserts that he didn't really want my opinion - he was just being polite. He's probably right, but insensitive bastard that I am - I told him.

We were a party of seven - four adults and three kids. We'd just climbed a mountain. We were hungry, there was a chill in the air, the restaurant represented itself to be "Greek-American" and, of course, they offered moussaka. Three of the four adults were drawn to it - but before going ahead with this plan, I expressly informed the server that I regarded moussaka as a serious matter and needed to know ... She assured me I would not be disappointed.

Why did I listen? I had a pretty clear impression that it was a mistake even as I placed the order. For one thing, the dish appeared under the beef section of the menu. This alone should have been a sufficient clue of what I was dealing with - but in this area, beef is often substituted for lamb and I was not put off. I guess this proves I am an optimist. Well...To the heart of the matter.

Never mind - the details don't matter. Bad restaurant, botched moussaka - life goes on.

But the incident did raise a number of perhaps important points.
1) Should they ask, and should you tell?
2) Is there a point along the authenticity and quality continuum at which a dish simply ceases to qualify as whatever they've had the temerity to call it?
3) Who first put potatoes in moussaka?
4) And assuming that you're prepared to accept their presence, are there limits as to their proportion in the dish?
5) Is some sort of béchamel derived sauce or custard topping essential to moussakanesshood?
6) Why are chefs not subject to corporal punishment during the dinner service?
7) OK, I guess that's a tad harsh - but how about immediate dismissal and forfeiture of all public cooking privileges for some interval (like life)?
8) OK, perhaps still harsh - but how about at least... You know, it's just occurred to me that not everybody takes food - and especially the responsibility one takes on as chef to the public as seriously as I do. So how about this question - Am I simply a lunatic? Or do I have a right to expect at least a certain degree of care and respect in the conduct of the trade?

I'm asking, and I really want to know.

Errata in re: pig,pig,pig,pig, not pig

I wanted to correct two errors in my prior post on the recent Beauty of the Beast Dinner at Southborough's Tomasso Trattoria.

Error of omission: I neglected to mention Chef Tony Bettencourt's salami - a late addition to the first course. The salami was amazing - melt in your mouth, fabulous flavor - really terrific. I gather he's been working on perfecting this salami for about a year now and if he's not done perfecting it, I don't know why not. This was the crack of salami - instantly addictive. I asked him to pack a pound of it to go, but this proved not possible. Maybe he was trying to protect me from overdose? I have to have more. He says there's no supply at the moment. He's going to make more. I hope the process used for that batch proves to be repeatable because honestly folks, it was great. I mean, if he can't do it again, what's the point in going on?

Error of commission: I am informed - by Tomasso himself (Proprietor Tom Prince) that the substitution of guanciale for trotters was a late breaking development but was duly documented in the menu presented to diners at the event. I was consulting the online menu when I wrote my previous posting and so was in error to call out any discrepancy between menu and actual dish. I plead salami intoxication and throw myself on the mercy of the court.

Definitely not Kosher - but Pig, Pig, Pig, Pig, not-Pig

Had a wonderful time and great eats last night in Southborough, at Tomasso Trattoria's Beauty of the Beast dinner , a 5 course meal built (almost) entirely around a single Six-Spotted Berkshire pig sourced from Heritage Foods USA GOOD PIGGY! Patrick Martins and Sarah Obraitis of Heritage Foods were in attendance.

The menu and wine pairings may be seen here. Chef Tony Bettencourt, (brief bio here), and Sommelier Lorenzo Savona, (brief bio here), did that pig proud.

I had such a good time that I'm going to defer any nit-picking and instead mention only the things that were most outstanding.

Second course pasta dish with house cured pancetta, mushrooms an sage was a knock-out dish. Absolutely nothing unexpected in its composition - but the ingredients and execution were superior - so much so that dish rose to very rarefied heights. A profound mouthful. Wow!
Salad dish with crispy trotters (said the menu, but it seemed to me, maybe guanciale?). - good piggy strikes again.
Bettencourt's Porchetta with lemon-zest and fennel pollen was beautiful - presented skin-on and with all the fat-back our late six-spotter had until so recently carried around. Thank you, Tony and Ferdinand.
Wines throughout were delightful with a couple of especially good pairings to call out -
The Bio-Dynamic Chianti Classico (not as listed) with the salad; the aglianico driven Molise with the porchetta; and the (believe it or not) Soave recioto with dessert were terrific. In terms of take-home wine buying thoughts - for me, the Molise and the Recioto were finds.

Seamed good to me

Yes, I know that seems to be misspelled - but I meant it.
I had an excellent Restaurant Week meal last night at Pigalle (Charles Street South in Boston). The entree was described on the menu as follows:
Olive Crusted Leg of Lamb with Braising Mint Jus, Cucumber Salad, and Moussaka
Delicious.
But what I wanted to particularly bring to your attention was the way the meat had been cut and prepped before cooking. I didn't speak with the chef, but what I saw on my plate looked like they had employed a procedure I often use and which I regard as highly commendable.

They seemed to have seamed the lamb. This means that they dissected the meat from the leg of lamb to break it down into individual muscle bundles and removed from each any fat, connective tissue, and silverskin.

It is a labor intensive operation. But when you prep the meat in this way, each and every bite will be the tenderest and tastiest it can be. What's more, it will take the flavor of your spices more quickly and more deeply; and ultimately it will exhibit a greater clarity of focus than otherwise possible. Time/cost aside, the trade-off is that it will present much less of lamb's characteristic gaminess - a trade off that I find vary favorable. If you're one of those that particularly crave a gamy, sheep-y taste - don't bother.

If you have a real butcher, you can certainly ask them to prep your lamb in this way - and they'll probably accommodate you. But they will not do as complete or clean a job as I require. Nor will they get the yield that I go for. It's simply too painstaking and laborious a process to go through for any reasonable price. So if you're handy with a knife and have the time, I encourage you to try this yourself. The results can be startling.

And at Pigalle, last night - that entree was really very good. Not to quibble, but perhaps a bit saltier than necessary - but the lamb, and the eggplant were fantastic.

The other item I particularly enjoyed there last night was a dessert. A chocolate/coconut cream in a crispy shell affair. The depth, length, and extremely gradual unfolding of the chocolate and coconut flavors in succession were enchanting. Really good effect.

Bravo Pigalle

Caveat: Order a good bottle of wine. The Bordeaux we opted for - by the glass - was not what it should have been.

Pastrami again - Sam La Grassa this time

The folks over at Chowhound (and elsewhere) have discussed the relative merits of various Boston area pastrami offerings. Here, for instance is one thread on "romanian pastrami" in and around Boston: http://www.chowhound.com/topics/403683
That discussion and other references left me curious about Sam LaGrassa's pastrami, so when a friend told me she wanted to take me to SLG for a pastrami I jumped at the opportunity. There were three of us in the party so we tried three different pastrami sandwich offerings and shared them around - A basic hot pastrami on (light) rye with mustard, a pastrami ruben, and another grilled sandwich they call a Traveler.
I may have missed something , but it seemed that at SLG, pastrami is exclusively "romanian". In my previous Brookline pastrami post I spoke to what makes pastrami "Romanian" at least here in Boston. The short version is that Romanian around here is distinguished by the addition of a heavy sugar rub in the final cooking. Other spices may be involved - as with the cinnamon used on the "Romanian" at Rubin's in Brookline. The pastrami at SLG is decidedly sweet. The meat in all three of our sandwiches was sweet. It was also tender, lean, and mildly spiced.
Now of course there's an element of the subjective about such matters - but for me, and for both of my companions today, the sweetness was off-putting. Insipid, actually. And the relative lack of spice didn't help there either. If you like sweet pastrami, then I suppose the basic sandwich could be to your liking. But in the two other cases, even if your preference runs to the sweet, the combinations did not benefit from this treatment. For example, the combination of sweet meat, Dijon mustard, and tomato - panini grilled on dark rye in the Traveler - not good. The sweet meat on the Rubin likewise. Of course in fairness to SLG, their Rubin standardly includes the canonical corned beef and not pastrami so one can not hold them responsible for the recipe there. We requested the offending sandwich specifically.

Other notes - the pastrami seemed to have been thoroughly cooked, but on the sandwich line it was not held in a steam cabinet. Of course, they're going through the stuff pretty fast in there, so maybe it doesn't spend long out of the steam before it's used up. They're slicing the meat to order on a rotary slicer - very thin. It was quite lean. I regret to say that I'm not sure whether they were slicing brisket or plate - but if pressed to guess without a return visit, I'd say brisket.
We also got a side of potato salad. It was a bit sweet too.
I came away from the visit feeling that SLG may be a better than average sandwich shop, but it is neither a pastrami destination of importance nor even a proper deli. Sweetness aside, the composition of their signature sandwich - the Traveler - for me constituted irrefutable evidence that they simply don't understand the ingredients they are working with.

Alas, I'm still noshstalgic. Next outing, I have to make my way over to Michael's in Brookline - I've heard good things about the place and I'm looking forward to it. I sincerely hope it will be great. To this point, the best publicly available pastrami experience I've had in Boston has been the regular (not Romanian) at Rubin's - if requested hand sliced, not lean. And they're very nice people over there.

Death by soap

//rant on
{
Please explain this to me - How does a steak house, a restaurant that's practically all about high-ticket wine sales, put that soap in the men's room? And, I assume, the lady's as well? If you wash your hands in there, all you can smell for the rest of the night is the soap. Sometimes it's almond, or floral. But often, it's a kind of antiseptic smell. Maybe the same scent they use in toilet bowel cleaner. And you cant' get away from it. If you raise a glass - it's not your wine you smell - it's the soap.

Have they lost their minds?

And what of the customers? Why am I having to rant about this on a blog that almost nobody's discovered yet? Why do their customers not complain? Why do they keep coming back?
}
//end rant

Service

Had dinner out with Secondo on Wednesday. We waited a long time to be seated. Secondo is only 6, so that's not easy, but the time went by quite pleasantly. The restaurant was a very small, storefront neighborhood place not too far off. Family operation. Two sisters were working the front of the house, their parents in the kitchen.

From our vantage point near the entry, we could see most of the dining room, the service area where drinks, desserts, coffee, bread and so on were prepped, the register, and right down the axis of the galley kitchen area. Flourescent lighting on the left side of the room illuminated the entry and service areas. On the right, down-lighting served the dining area - but as there is no real separation, the entire space was bright and unromatic. The decor verged on non-existent. We perused a menu as we waited. It was a short list of absolutely standard, old-fashioned italian (calabrian) offerings. Mostly pasta. A few protein items. Secondo loves pasta.

The sisters were very busy. Upon our arrival, we were the fourth party waiting for a table. The entire restaurant consisted of perhaps a dozen tables. The timing of our arrival was such that it took quite a long time for even the first of the 4 waiting parties to be seated. During this long interval, and at each subsequent seating prior to ours, we observed that one, and sometimes two tables were vacant. A party would clear their bill and head out. Their table would sit, waiting to be cleared and readied for the next party. And people were waiting. And I was waiting with a 6 year old. And we didn't mind; because something magical was happening.

The sisters were very busy. There was no discernable division of labor between them. There was a lot to do back there. When they were in the service area, they flew. Most of their activities were those you'd expect - prepping desserts, totaling checks, making espresso and so on. One thing was a bit less typical. Every time a party was seated, one of the sisters would start a batch of toast on a panini grill. When they removed the toast from the grill, they'd brush it with a mixture of oil, garlic and herbs. No big deal, but it was a labor intensive way to provide bread to the table, it seemed to be the rule, and the care and precision with which they made that garlic bread seemed special.

More remarkable was the transformation the sisters went through each and every time they crossed the threshold between the service area and the dining area. Recall that there was no wall between - just a counter. Still, as they moved from one area to the other, everything changed. In the service area, they were charged and taut, moving as fast as possible. They were perfectly accurate and wasted no motion. But they were clearly exerting themselves to get things done. As they crossed into the dining room, you could see them relax. It was deliberate and unmistakable. It didn't take long - just a couple of seconds. But as they entered the dining room, the tension left them and they moved through the tables with easy grace as if they had all the time in the world. When they approached a table and took an order, or when delivering food, they were relaxed. They exuded hospitality. They might as well have been hostesses, relaxing at a catered affair under the watchful eye of a trusted manager. It was as if they had nothing to worry about, nothing to do, but be with their guest. No other guest either - just the one they were with.

Those tables that sat empty between parties? I was quickly convinced this was a deliberate, and absolutely correct decision. They were regulating the flow of seatings and orders to maintain perfect service in the front of the house and perfect timing in the kitchen. I was waiting with a 6 year old, in an environment that provided no activities to keep him busy for close to an hour - and I appreciated their discipline in turning those tables so slowly.

When our turn came, just as I suspected, we too felt the ease and luxury of gracious service and seemingly undivided attention. And the food was delicious.