Restaurant Week, Dorchester Style

For all you Bostonians who are eagerly awaiting the arrival of Restaurant Week in the spring, I have happy news--you don't have to wait until March! For the first time this year, eight restaurants in Dorchester and Milton will be participating in a neighborhood Restaurant Week, with each location offering a special three-course dinner for $30.10 in addition to their regular fare. The event, which runs from January 17th through the 31st (excluding Fri/Sat nights) is a great way to do some local eating. Not only will you be supporting small businesses in your area, but many of them--including Chris Douglass' Ashmont Grill and Tavolo--make an effort to buy produce and specialty items from local farms and producers. In other words, it's a win-win-win.

For those of you who don't often venture out in the Dorchester area, this is a perfect opportunity to check out a growing neighborhood--all of these restaurants offer free parking, and most are a stone's throw away from the Red Line. Click on the restaurants below to see their full menus and contact information--reservations recommended!

224

88 Wharf

Abby Park

Ashmont Grill

Blarney Stone

dbar

Ledge

Tavolo

Photo courtesy of Adam Pieniazek on Flickr Creative Commons.

On Wearing Perfume at the Table

We have all been there. Enjoying a tasty meal and soaking up the atmosphere at our favorite restaurant, when in walks a veritable explosion of perfume. (Or sometimes cologne, but I have found that women tend to be the more common offenders in this department.) Suddenly, rather than tasting your remarkably delightful chick pea fries, you are tasting Chanel. Instead of the fine cocktail of Campari and gin you've been sipping, you're sipping on Poison...in every sense of the word.

This was precisely what happened to a friend and I who were dining at the lovely Garden at the Cellar in Cambridge last night. Just as our food arrived, so did a large party of people, at least one of whom was responsible for contaminating the entire air space of the restaurant. As always, these odiferous diners struck me as an unwelcome and unfair offense--why should I have to smell the people next to me when I'm trying to enjoy a bowl of Pumpkin soup with crispy pork rillette and spiced yogurt (divine, in spite of the smelly distraction)? It will fade into the background, my friend and I told ourselves, hoping that after a time we would cease to notice the cloud of overpowering and acrid aromas. But it never did. My garlic spinach--adorably presented in a squat little canning jar--and my Negroni were tainted by the stench until the very last mouthful.

When it comes to this blog, I usually try to leave my cranky pants at home, but last night put me over the edge. Perfume has a place--even I have a couple that I like to spritz on (lightly) once in a while--but it most certainly does not belong in a restaurant. If you want to douse yourself before cooking for that special someone at home, go nuts. But when you're headed out to a public space where people have gathered for the specific purpose of enjoying yummy food, ditch the scintillating scents. And, if you are not a perfumer, encourage any offending friends to do the same. The food, the drink, and your fellow diners will all be better off!

A chat and talk and cook kind of thing.

"A chat and talk and cook kind of thing." This is how Ranveer Brar, corporate chef for One World Cuisine, introduced the Tuesday night cooking class at Mantra's Naan Bar. I had arrived excited for the class but flustered after a long day at work, and his relaxed description sounded like exactly what the doctor ordered. What could be better than that, after all?

The class, which Mantra runs every Tuesday from 5:30-6:30, is designed to "demystify the tandoor," says Chef Brar. Indeed, within minutes of arriving, I had learned that the cylindrical tandoor oven, which originated in Turkey, is fired at the bottom and is most often made of clay bound around coils of rope. In India, where bread is also sometimes grill-baked at home, there are often community tandoors, used jointly by a group of families. And, if you have neither a private nor a community tandoor, as is true for most of us in the States, Brar recommends using any piece of non-glazed cookware for baking, such as a terra cotta dish or a pizza stone. Heat the oven to 450 for breads and 400 for meats, and you'll have at least some approximation of the tandoor.

The first lesson of the day was how to make naan dough. Here in the U.S., where the flour is harder and has more gluten than in India, the ideal dough is made with 30% milk. For our batch, Brar used 1 egg, 2 pounds of self-rising flour, milk, and a pinch each of salt and sugar. He also added just a teaspoon of oil toward the end. He cautioned against over-kneading and then put the dough away to rest for 2 hours, swapping it out for an already rested batch.

The dough, once shaped into naan-sized portions, is cooked on the side of the ovens, where it connects with a slap. Once ready, it's removed with two metal skewers and set aside for serving. While Brar used plain dough for our naans, it's also common to add mint or toasted caraway to the dough itself--yum.

Our naan samples were served with three chutneys: mint & cashew, tamarind, and tomato and onion seed. All three were delicious, but the mint & cashew seemed to be the crowd favorite. In addition to the basic naan, we were treated to tastings of a green chili and mozzarella stuffed naan, as well as one stuffed with date and coconut. Both combinations were surprising to me (I usually just go straight for the garlic naan) and both were delicious. Dates, Chef Brar told us, were historically used in royal bread, and it wasn't hard to see why. Their sweet flavor and rich texture made for a unique and decadent dish.

Next it was onto the meats, which came with a brief lesson in spices. The Ayurvedic style used in India is a holistic approach devoted to achieving harmony in the body. "Your body type dictates what you're going to eat," Chef Brar explained. The tandoor spices that he used for our kebabs included ground red chili, celery seed, cilantro, toasted coriander, fried onion, and garam masala. There are 12 altogether, six heating and six cooling for balance. Given this holistic philosophy, I was happy to hear that Chef Brar and One World Cuisine are also working to balance their menu from a sustainability perspective by purchasing produce from local markets in the summer and fall, as well asVermont chevre.

First up was a seekh kebab--seekh is the word for skewer--which is typically made with beef or lamb depending on the religion on the region in India. This recipe was a mixture of ground lamb, ginger, and garlic, molded in a careful cylinder around the skewer before going into the oven. According to Chef Brar, the ideal kebab should consist of 10% flavoring and spices, 90% meat. Next, we enjoyed a Roti kebab, which held larger chunks of meat, more similar to the "kebabs" I make at home on the grill. This style of kebab is marinated in yogurt, which acts as a great tenderizer for the meat. Chef Brar's recipe includes 1 pound yogurt, 2 ounces each of ginger and garlic paste, 2 ounces of chick pea flour, and salt and pepper. We also got to try a chipotle chicken tikka, which was tender and packed with flavor.

In addition to the cooking classes, the Naan Bar has a separate menu full of delicious-sounding taste treats. There are appetizers like Mustard-Seed Lamb Chops and Chili Mussels, as well as endless varieties of naan, ranging from smoked salmon to PB&J! For just $12 you can choose your three favorite and make it a trio. While our group was fairly full after so many generous samples, we agreed that we would come back another night to enjoy the many delights on offer.

All told, the cooking class is a lovely way to unwind after a long day at work. For just $20, you get a wealth of information, all those yummy samples, and a cocktail to boot. To reserve your spot, visit Mantra's website or give them a call at (617) 542-8111. Happy eating!

Gone Country: A Night of Fresh Food and Fine Dining at the Herb Lyceum

Living in a city like Boston, opportunities for culinary adventure abound. These days, there are excellent chefs working their magic in just about every neighborhood of town, and representing just about every type of cuisine. Nonetheless, it's possible to sometimes find yourself in a bit of a restaurant rut. You've been to your favorite spot a few times too often, you don't feel like gambling on the fancy claims of the newest hot spot, you need a new spin on the flavors of the season...what's a foodie to do?

Head to the country, I say. More specifically, head to Groton, Massachusetts, where chef Paul Callahan (formerly of L'Espalier, Sel de la Terre, and The Butcher Shop) is working his own brand of magic at The Herb Lyceum at Gilson's. Chef Callahan, who has been at the restaurant for two months now, is clearly in his element, appearing after each course to explain the dish and chat with diners. "No one's a ticket any more," he said when asked what's different about working in this unusual setting. And, in addition to this new relationship with his guests, he also has a new relationship to the producers and vendors he works with. "I can't tell you the last time I called to place an order," he says. Instead, local farmers and vendors call him when they have a bumper supply of squash or short ribs, and he willingly takes it off their hands, working to design a menu around what's fresh, seasonal and local. Being slightly off the beaten path affords Callahan that luxury, and those who find their way to Groton are in for an inspired night of dining that is as sustainable as it is delicious.

The barn, built around 1900 and restored in the 1990s using original materials, provides a lovely setting for a dinner--as you enter through the door, warmly welcomed by David Gilson himself, you're transported to a place that seems much further than an hour from the city. The charming decor is filled with home grown plants and herbs, as well as old time tools like the mortar and pestle pictured here. And, the warm welcome continues inside with Kathy Gilson making sure everyone can get comfortable and get a glass of wine if they've brought it (the restaurant is BYOW). The combined effect is as though you've stepped into someone's old time dining room, one that's cozy, intimate, and inviting.

Although for most of the night it seemed wrong to disrupt the atmosphere with flash photography, I did manage to sneak one picture with a flash early on in the evening. You can see the lovely table settings here, as well as a couple bottles of wine brought by other diners. The communal tables are a key feature of the Herb Lyceum. As Chef Callahan said, "it's like going to a dinner party." It's a lovely sentiment, and we did enjoy the company of some very nice neighbors that night. However, we also had a couple of neighbors that were not so nice. In fact, they were very not nice, but I will leave the (overly drunken) details to your imagination--I like to think that they were far from the norm. Suffice it to say that if you are one who doesn't like to take a gamble on making new friends over dinner, you might consider bringing a big enough group to take up one of the smaller tables (6 being the smallest) or at least insulate yourself from the possibility of unpleasantness. That way you can put most of your attention exactly where it belongs: on the wonderful food.

Although my flashless food pictures were all sadly dark, I had to include at least one. This was our main course, an Herbs de Provence Braised Short Rib Wellington, with local, grass fed beef from Springdell Farm nearby. The beef, wrapped in homemade puff pastry, was tender and juicy, and very well accompanied by the spinach, mushrooms, and foie gras that were bundled up with it. Along side were a smoked potato fondue (brilliant!) and a sauce Perigueux, as well as a little tower of squashes, including Hubbard, Acorn, and Delicata. We also enjoyed an incredible Roasted Chestnut Bisque that evening, with a cranberry compote made with port wine and rosemary. The tart, woodsy flavor of the berries made an unexpectedly delicious pairing with the rich, creamy bisque. Indeed, this was the beauty of most of Callahan's creations that night--a wealth of bold ingredients that somehow came together as a marriage of clean, simple flavors. Even the dessert, a Grilled Upside Down Quince Cake with vanilla chantilly and bourbon caramel (yum), was topped with a few leaves of thyme, which somehow complimented the whole rather than distracting from it.

All in all, it was an evening of fabulous food, good wine, and (mostly) wonderful company. When the weather warms, I hope to return for another culinary adventure, one that includes a walk through the lovely grounds, which we missed in the November dark. I recommend you do the same!