I don’t know if y’all are familiar with this, but there’s this thing called Instagram. Apparently you attach it to your phone somehow and it takes pictures of food. One of our servers has one, I guess, and he sent these shots to me. Looks like my sous chefs have been busy coming up with fish specials behind my back. I guess my pedestal is so high I need better glasses to see what they’re up to.
Mark’s been begging me to showcase his work more often here, so this is his fish special today: pan-roasted striped bass with gingered carrot puree, wasabi glazed peas and scallion tempura. Just don’t try to hire him away from me. I know a guy.
Several times a year I like to venture outside the hallowed halls of my restaurant to see how ordinary citizens go about their lives, much as Shakespeare’s Henry V walked incognito among his troops before battle, or Zeus might pay a visit to his Athenians in the form of a mere mortal or, perhaps, ball of twine. And when I do, I find it’s important to bring food and wine in order to avoid arrest on some bogus trespassing charge when it was really just a misunderstanding and I don’t know why she couldn’t see that in the first place.
So on one particularly snowy evening recently I, along with my faithful sidekick and now sous chef, Lindsey, plus Heather the Server, ventured into the wilds of Wellesley to meet some new folksy folks and make dinner. At first I challenged the homeowner to a throwdown, but was immediately contacted via social media by Food Network attorneys, so we had to settle for a meal instead.
What you see above is about half of the meal. Pea soup with white pepper mousse and shaved black forest ham; burrata over wild mushrooms and gnocchi; quail stuffed with carrot-rice pilaf served with spiced yogurt and carrot caramel; and beef cheek confit with fingerling potatoes, grilled spring vidalia and bordelaise. So keep your eyes (and carrots, hahahahahahaha) peeled, because maybe our next doorstep visit will be your own. (It also helps to bid vigorously and often at charity auctions.)
You know, there are three types of people in this world, and I’ve always been of the mind that you just can’t please ‘em all. You have the hot dog people, sometimes known as franks; you got the chorizo people; and then there’s the sweet Italian sausage types. Today I’m not afraid to admit that maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe you can please ‘em all. Today, for our staff meal, Eddie embarked on an adventure unparalleled in the sheer audacity of his derring-do. Today, against all odds, Eddie set out to please ‘em all when he encased a slice of chorizo and a hot dog in a warm and cozy cocoon of sweet Italian sausage, and I think the world just became a little bit happier.
And here’s the menu, albeit a little blurry.
Today we hosted the Super Hunger Brunch at the restaurant benefiting the Greater Boston Food Bank, and if you were among the 6,587,492 Massachusetts residents who didn’t join us in the fight against hunger, then shame on you - unless, of course, you elected to partake at one of the other participating restaurants. Among other offerings, we featured a smoked salmon tartare with potato, dill aioli and pumpernickel crumbs; a breakfasty chopped salad replete with sausage, bacon, crispy potatoes and a maple vinaigrette; an oscar-style quiche with crab meat, asparagus tempura and Old Bay hollandaise; and a steak and eggs quesadilla. Hope to see you next year!
Here’s Ralph, again; you’ve met him before. This week we’ve been quizzing our servers on their menu knowledge, and to be honest, we’ve had mixed results. Ralph, in particular, has had a devil of a time recalling just what’s on the menu when he’s been thrust under the inquisitor’s spotlight. So today he came prepared.
While in graduate school at the Università degli Studi di Bari, I had the opportunity, when I was able to escape my studies, however briefly, to indulge in the, until recently, undiscovered cuisine of Puglia, a diet borne of poverty and rich in offal, favas, olives, breads and cheese. Plates of salumi and bruschetta adorned with a deep green and peppery olive oil would appear out of nowhere, as if life in Puglia required that one not even ask for a meal. It was here that I learned of a local legend, a cheese known as burrata, or as the locals referred to it: burrata. Sadly I was unable to try even the slightest morsel, so secretive were the Pugliese about their regional treasure. So imagine my surprise when I found a local source!!!
I’d heard that the Mozzarella House in nearby Everett fashions a lovely version of burrata, so without a moment’s hesitation, I ordered fifteen pounds. The first sign that something had gone awry was the packaging. The cheese arrived in tubs filled with water, and I did not know what to make of that. The second sign, and this little red flag shone like a beacon of impending doom, reared its head when I cut into the “cheese” and weird creamy cheese pieces and some gooey liquid oozed out. Big problem. So either the Mozzarella House is some front for nefarious activity, or I just have no idea what burrata is, and I can assure you, I know my food.
Anyway, it’s always been my attitude that if life hands you fifteen pounds of some unrecognizable, maybe dairy product, then you do your best to sell it. So I threw together some French-style gnocchi with choux pastry, riced potatoes and herbs, tossed those with wild mushrooms, mushroom juice, gremolata and butter, and then topped all that with the so-called burrata, and I’m not ashamed to say it: it all turned out pretty well.
Like many restaurants, we congregate just before dinner service to go over specials, quiz the staff on menu knowledge, talk about which wines would be best for large parties, tell a few jokes, discuss current events… that sort of thing. Sometimes I’ll throw in a logic or math problem to keep the servers’ minds sharp, or to remind myself that the servers would prefer not to hear logic or math problems. But today we caught this little bugger red handed. He thought he could sneak in here and steal our industry secrets. For now he’s locked up in the basement until I figure out how to deal with him.
And here is a teaser. This is Ted after his makeover. Lovely job, that. Stay tuned…
