July 5, 2007

Rendezvous


After a tedious day at work what better way than to wind down at Central Kitchen? Unfortunately it was closed so the wife and I shuffled over the road to Rendezvous.

The first of many diversions. I like the typeface they use for their logo. It looks like Chicken Basket or something from the same foundry, however to paraphrase James Brown, please, please, please kern the damn space between the 'e' and 'z'. You could drive a bus through there.

Inside, the place looks great, full of people pretentious enough to call themselves Cantabrigians. Outside, the varied vista of Central Square chock full of yuppies and homeless.

We dove, or dived depending on your level of education, into cocktails. I went for a bitter Drambuie concoction while Anne sipped back and relaxed on a cool sparkling fruity thang.

Then the horror set in. I didn't really fancy any of the entrees. You know it's a bad time when Anne says "You'd like the vegetable dish".

After some mulling, I did indeed opt for the vegetable pot pie, but as an appetizer I shockingly went for the farmhouse cheese selection. When the board arrived I presumed it was only part of the order. $12 for two 1" square blocks of hard cheese? Oh, my mistake, there's four walnuts and a string of carmelized onion, too.

The pot pie was well made, although the dressing on the lettuce was super acidic (great name for a college band).

Anne chose rabbit. I never eat rabbit. My mother made diced rabbit in 1981 and it was the only time my father never cleared his plate. Admittedly that rabbit was bought from a 2nd rate frozen food shop in industrial England. Anne's rabbit was succulent and tender, and served on a bed of fettucine pasta (though she thought it tasted like Pennsylvania Dutch broad egg noodles). She almost got me to take a bite, but somehow my memory still keeps 1981 alive.

For desserts (come on, we both skipped lunch), Anne had an ice cream with strawberry and rhubarb compote, I had a chocolate and cinnamon 'thing'. Anne's compote had basil mixed in. Now, maybe the educated-at-culinary-school palate would say the basil was a brilliant addition, but Anne thought it was crap.

I was tempted to wash down the dessert with a glass of port, which reminded me of the time I was in Elephant Walk. I had asked for a glass of port, the make of which is pronounced coh-burns. The waitress came back three minutes later telling me they didn't have any of that brand but they do have one called Cockburn's.

Anyway back to Rendezvous. Sat opposite us was a woman who looked a lot like Aimee Mann. It prompted a conversation titled "Is personality shaped by physical appearance?" I like Aimee Mann (although ironically, not her early stuff — that was 80s tat), but boy does she come across as being hard work in real life. The lady sat opposite fell into the same maintenance bucket.

I had a feeling that psychology class would come in handy.

The final bill was a $100+. A touch pricey but made worthwhile by our waitress who was excellent.

If you like your meats out of left field, and can tolerate us Cambridge folk, then you just might like Rendezvous.
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June 26, 2007

The Ivy


Moseyed on down to the Ivy in the Ladder District last night. This is significant because I once declared I would never eat there after I saw a rat the size of a pillowcase outside 'Ritas and Fajitas.

The pleasant maitre d greeted me and escorted me upstairs to where my co-diners were gathered.

The 'pitch' is 'think tapas but pay more'. There were 8 of us and we ordered 12 dishes.

On the website they have Chicken alla Puttanesca, which roughly translates to 'Whore's chicken' - apparently streetwalkers in Naples used to create this dish when they needed something quick and cheap to fill them up before a night of paid lovin'. I guess Monday is a quiet night for Italian prostitutes as sadly the dish wasn't available last night.

The usual suspects of fancy bread and quasi expensive cheeses, were joined by surprises such as fig paste, and an undetermined brown drizzle that none the less tasted delicious.

We ordered a good mix of proteins and pastas all of which tasted as good as they looked. We also got cheesy balls. This makes me laugh.

Wine was OK-ish for the price, and the 3 desserts were fruit free to which I say "Bravo!". One of the desserts was 'Classic Tiramisu'. What purpose does the 'Classic' serve?

Would probably go back again with the wife, and their downstairs cocktail bar looked full of drunken promise.
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May 29, 2007

B Side Lounge


We've been to B Side several times. Richard loves the place; I know it's because nearly everything on the menu seems to come with cheese. For me, the place is meh. In addition to the cheese-y menu, the chef has some obsession with blue cheese to which I can't subscribe.

But it was Memorial Day weekend, we had just seen the film "Paris je t'aime" and since I was in a loving mood, I agreed. I figured I'd just get some fries, which are always good.

Richard suggests we share side orders. A side of fries (regular, NOT the blue cheese fries) are a done deal. We agree on the Artisanal Cheese Plate — yeah, OK, it's cheese but I see it comes with some fruit and Iggy's bread, so I figure it'll be alright. Finally we select the side of black beans and cheese. That's right, more cheese.

It all comes at once, which I guess is fine. The fries are awesome and aplenty. There are 2 artisanal cheeses: lots of slices of what looks like havarti or swiss (I realize that, not being a huge lover of cheese, I'm downmarketing whatever kind it was -- and in fact, I didn't eat it), and 2 huge slabs of ... yep, blue cheese. There's also Iggy's french bread (always excellent), some fresh pear slices, carmelized walnuts and lots of just-for-display lettuce. The black beans were pureed and bland, in fact, a bit like eating very dry mushy peas that stick to your mouth.

The drinks were pretty good: I had a Metropolitan and Richard had a Sidecar.

So I've done my good-wife deed for the weekend. Verdict: if you like cheese, you'll like B Side.
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January 22, 2007

Algiers Cafe


We stopped in on Saturday afternoon, after a very chilly walk from our apartment, ostensibly just for a coffee/tea. But we were able to nab a table upstairs that overlooked the downstairs area and then witnessed the gorgeous plates of food on other tables, making our stomachs signal interest in some sampling activity.

I had a pot of jasmine tea, Richard had the mint coffee, and we decided to share a plateful of hummus, grilled peppers and roasted chicken, beautifully sprinkled with paprika and oil, and served with a basket of pita bread. It definitely hit the spot, though we giggled as we burped up garlic the entire walk back home.

Can't wait to go back and try many more things from the simple but tempting menu.

40 Brattle Street, Cambridge, Harvard Square. It even has a page (albeit with one sentence) on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Algiers_Coffee_House
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December 17, 2006

All Star Sandwich Bar


An exciting idea to bring a bit more variety to the flagging sandwich.

I had something with gruyere in it. Why? Because I always do.

We chose take out, because the place was jumping. Here's problem #1. The open format kitchen is way too big. The customer area is way too small.

We ordered our delicious lunches and waited. A bag appeared with my name on it (Richard), but the flake behind the counter picked it up, and walked over to another guy who had been waiting as long as us.

Confusion!

This guy was not called Richard, but it did not stop him from prodding the contents of our bag. Our intervention fell on deaf ears and a two minute scrum ensued in the (still too big) open air kitchen.

Their stunning organizational plan appears to fall down when two people have the same name, or when a douche bag called Kevin chooses to be Richard for the day so that he can get a sandwich quicker.

The woman behind the counter was hopeless, as was the guy bagging the sandwiches. All you have to do is match the sandwich with the ticket.

Sandwich? Pretty good but not worth the $7 I paid for it.

Result. Not going back.
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Daedalus


Oh Boy.

So we went here for Anne's birthday. It's a place we've walked past a bunch of times and it always seems to be filled with the usual Cambridge types you love and hate.

We made a reservation for 7pm, and showed up 5 minutes early. The maitre d looked at her book and then her watch and said it would be a few minutes wait. Technically I had no problem with this, but it was delivered with the style and gracelessness that only power crazed types can exude. She'll probably end up being a publicist.

There's a scene towards the end of Meet the Parents (a movie I did not particularly enjoy), when Ben Stiller's character wants to board a plane, and the Attendant will not let him on despite the fact he is the only one left at the gate. Why? Protocol, and our robotic maitre d had oodles of it. Hungry yet happy people were streaming in and she seemed to take great delight in puncturing their expectations.

It's great that you are full, just turn people away with a touch of humility OK?

7.20 we were shown to our table next to the staircase. Don't get me started.

The cocktails didn't match the food. It didn't stop me from combining a mint chocolate martini with clam chowder, but let's be honest, I'm in Daedalus so I'm no gastronome am I?

We had a priest sat near us. He was nice. There was also a drama concerning a stolen coat, plus the usual 'angry at their parents' brainiacs speaking too loudly.

Our waitress had no cadence. She had awkward timing when it came to asking our menu choices. I had a perfectly fine Penne with Chicken and Anne had Risotto.

The owner was around, and he looked like a good man, which is a shame because when he said goodnight to us that was the most pleasant experience of the whole night.

We went home and ate blue cake for Anne's birthday.

Sorry Daedalus. To Homer you were a skilled artisan, to us you were personified by a soulless maitre d.
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Chart House (Longwharf Boston)


Housed in some old salty seadog building near the Aquarium and behind the oddly shaped Marriott, the Chart House is apparently a chain! Well if this one is anything to go by, it's a damn fine chain.

A colleague booked this place based on it's architectural excellence - never a good omen, but it turned out to have culinary excellence too.

11 of us showed up, and were ushered to our table on the brick exposed 2nd floor. Our waiter was called Greg or Grant, and either way he was very good.

He kicked us off with cocktails, beer and wine, and then suggested hot and cold platters of seafood. Nobody complained as we devoured the oysters, tuna, calamari, lobster, crab and shrimp.

Greg/Grant's suggestions for entrees were excellent, and his coup de grace was suggesting the miraculous desserts BEFORE we got our entrees.

I had blackened swordfish, with a crab and pico de gallo salsa. First up - it was excellent, but boy have I had enough of the whole pico de gallo thing. It means rooster's beak. It should have lots of good stuff in it, but it only ever seems to be chopped tomatoes to me.

So.

Afterwards I had the chocolate dessert and everything was good in the world again. My colleague picked up the check, so I have no clue how much it all cost, but I will go again, hopefully with Anne next time.
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Olé Mexican Grill


Tucked behind 1369 in Inman Sq. this was only our 2nd time there. The first time wasn't great but it was hardly their fault. We'd shown up a year or so ago wanting some quick in-and-out burrito action. This ain't the place for that.

So they have award winning guacamole. Who the hell gives awards for guacamole? None the less it is impressive as they mix it in front of you in a big stone mortar & pestle. Taste? Wonderful.

For cocktails Anne had some icy mango concoction, which hit the spot. It's raspberry companion wasn't so good. I went for a tequini, which combined the knock out qualities of tequilla with the added punch of citrus flavored liqueurs. I drank too many.

I had such a buzz going that by the time we ordered entrees I thought I could pronounce everything in my "3 years at school" Spanish accent. I had a chicken, bean and tortilla dish that was incredible.

Anne went for a steak and mole (imagine an accent above the e) dish so good she ate it all, but not good enough for her to remember the name of it.

Our waitress was great. Always there, but not rushing us or disapproving of my piss poor Spanish.

Well done Olé. We'll come back!
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