Boston: Union Oyster

Le Cuillère and I recently paid a visit to Boston. Summer is for the weak; to get the most out of the experience it's imperative that you not feel your extremities for most of the trip. And while I am being sarcastic, the cold conveniently does assist in one's overall enjoyment of some key regional specialties. Le Cuillère and I escaped the chill at America's oldest continually operating restaurant-- the Union Oyster House. Established in 1826, Union Oyster has played host to the likes of Daniel Webster who, word has it, perfected his legal acumen over endless plates of oysters and watered down brandy. The place has some serious historical ambiance. Not in a cheesy “George Washington slept here” sort of way; but in a manner which makes you feel perfectly at home. No one that works here is wearing period costumes.

Wandering in off the street, we manage to secure a spot at the bar to wait out the crowds. Like most locations in Boston, Union Oyster has a plethora of beer on tap and an abundance of Sam Adams. The selections range well beyond the normal fare, and we quickly settle on Sam's Brick Red. And Irish-style red ale, hoppy flavorful and without a trace of bitterness. A perfect start to the evening.

Eventually our patience is rewarded and we're lead to the upstairs dining room seated across from what was apparently JFK's favorite booth (or so the many placards lead us to believe). After a quick glance of the menu, we settle on the same thing: the Shore dinner consisting of clam chowder, steamers, a lobster, corn, red potatoes, corn bread and Indian pudding. It proves to be an ungodly amount of food.  Of note, what I call "ungodly," Le Cuillere calls "a nice snack."

The cornbread arrives first, and it is truly amazing. Rather then a brick of crumbing corn meal, this is almost like a cake in texture with a delicate corn flavor and served piping hot. Next the chowder arrives. It strikes a good balance of consistency; not too thick or thin. While a little sparse on clam pieces when compared to other local restaurants and pubs, the overall flavor is quite good. A neat not-so-well-kept secret about Boston is every single restaurant in town claims to have the "best clam chowder in the city," and most of them are right!  We're next greeted by a basket of steamed clams, complete with lemon, butter, and a little broth for washing off the sand. After a bit of instruction from our waitress we set to work shelling and disrobing our clams. The bivalves are steamed to perfection, plump and without a trace of rubbery texture.

At this point, I'm feeling pretty content. The food has arrived so far at a pretty brisk pace and I find I have nearly forgotten how much food we've got coming when giant plates begin to arrive. I've elected to have my lobster grilled, while Le Cuillère went with the traditional boiled approach. I find further description here to be unnecessary. Is there really anything better than lobster meat and drawn butter?

Unfortunately, I find I've quickly met my match. Le Cuillère is the beneficiary as I can't even make it through the lobster claws, never mind the rest of the plate. Our waitress is there to remind us however that we have Indian pudding coming. I have no idea what exactly this might be; she describes it as a sort of liquid pumpkin pie. And this is not that far off. Made with a cornmeal base, molasses, vanilla, cinnamon and nutmeg, it does bear a certain resemblance. I have a bite to confirm, and then retire to fight another day. It's lovely, but I am clearly not up for the challenge of hearty New England fare.

It would be criminal to go to Boston and not have seafood. Union Oyster does an excellent job of combining the local cuisine and history to create a wonderful experience where you feel you've not only had a good meal, but absorbed the local ambiance as well. Oh.... and go hungry. Very hungry.



Boston: Duexave

When Le Cuillère and I planned a trip to Boston, I did a little advance research to see what restaurants were well regarded and appeared to be doing some interesting things with the menu. I keyed in on Duexave, a recent opening in the Back Bay section of the city. We arrived early, and made our way to the cozy bar for an aperitif. Food and beverage go hand in hand, and I tend to find the creativity and execution of an establishment's cocktail menu is usual a good harbinger of what you might expect from the kitchen. We browsed the list and several intriguing options immediately jumped off the page. Le Cuillère settled on a Vesper Martini, while I decided to sample the "New Groni", a riff on the classic drink made with gin, fresh grapefruit, Aperol, and egg white. Both were light, refreshing, and expertly made; the perfect pre-dinner palate cleanser.

Once seated for dinner, we found the menu and the specials presented numerous options, and I found myself even more conflicted than normal.  Deuxave specializes in the use of local and seasonally available ingredients; the menu often identifies the pedigee of various ingredients.  After much ado, a decision was reached. Le Cuillère chose to start with a foie gras/sauterne pairing, to be followed by a duet of veal. I settled on a winter vegetable salad, with seared diver scallops. (I sometimes feel I order scallops too often, but alas....the palette wants what the palette wants.)

The décor was calming in muted grays and stone, and the fire added a welcome glow and warmth to the room. It was truly a lovely place to unwind with a glass of wine after a long day of wandering. The first courses arrived and both of us were immediately thrilled with our selections. The foie gras appeared to have come from what can only be described as the healthiest of geese. It was dressedwith ginger cake, grapefruit marmalade, and sweet potato-citrus puree along side a kohlrabi, grapefruit & pomegranate salad. The citrus paired wonderfully with the richness of the goose; Le Cuillère's fondness for foie gras was rekindled after a less than satisfactory experience in the recent past.

My love of leafy greens, on the other hand, compels me to order a salad at every opportunity. And while yes, I can and do easily dump some mesculan on a plate at home, I enjoy ordering them out based solely on their accessibility. A salad, for the most part is something each of us can ostensibly recreate at home with out much difficulty. As a result I love discovering new preparations I can weave into my own rotation as well as discovering extraordinary displays of the humble green. My winter salad, in this case, was distinctly in the latter camp. The baby greens hailing from Equinox Farm were tossed with a Villa Mandori Balsamic and presented, quite literally, in an edible cornucopia fashioned from ribbons of lightly crisped potato. Surrounding the centerpiece were Roasted Delicata Radish, Pepin de Potiron, Pickled Cauliflower, and Parmesan Whisps. It was the most visually stunning presentation of a salad I've ever seen, and was every bit as delicious as it appeared. It is my sincere hope that more vegetables will be served in edible fried potato baskets in the future.

While the first courses were difficult to top, our second dishes, fortunately were up for the challenge. Le Cuillère's duet using natural Strauss veal was innovative and well presented. The dish featured a braised veal cheek over a celeric puree, as well as a roasted tenderloin. The plate was garnished with black eyed peas, roasted carrots, parsnips and Maitake mushrooms and served with veal jus. Le Cuillere was clearly in gastric nirvana; he would take a bite of the tenderloin with some of the black eyed peas, close his eyes while chewing and make noises approximating those of a large mammal being scratched behind its ears, and then repeat the process with the braised cheek, his eyes widening in surprise at its tenderness with every bite.  It's like he expected it to toughen up as he got closer to the center, and delighted in being proven wrong with each bite. 

Despite my initial hesitation to get scallops yet again, my instincts have led me in the right direction. The local diver scallops are seared to perfection, and served along side rounds of a crispy rosemary polenta fashioned so convincingly to mimic the scallops themselves I have difficulty distinguishing the difference at first blush. The two are served atop a pine nut puree, drizzled with a tangerine emulsion and paired with a braised red cabbage and Brussels sprout leaves. The dish makes for a wonderful pairing of flavors and textures with the citrus adding a brightness to the palette. I knew the scallops were the way to go.

Totally satisfied, we forgo dessert opting instead for espresso with a lemon twist. The perfect end to an excellent meal. I don't have much exposure to Boston's culinary scene, and Deuxave was a very strong showing. I find myself looking for an excuse to return. Fortunately baseball season is around the corner. But that's a topic for another day....