Text 9367, 197 rader
Skriven 2006-12-28 10:21:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: restaurant tastes 769
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I made a 5:00 booking at Pava, as I had to be at Riverside
at 7, and this newish place in Newton Centre is only a
10-minute train ride away. So I went past at 5, and it was
kind of dark, so I headed to the drugstore to get some milk
pills (I'd forgotten them) ... came back at 5:15, the door
was open and it was somewhat lighter; I walked in, and
presently some kid came in the door and asked if I'd been
helped (on his way to the kitchen, I think, as he was
probably cooking that night). I said no and that I had a
reservation. So he went down to hunt up some waitresses,
and soon I had three. But (as I found out) the place wasn't
really open until 5:30, heck with what the reservation
system said. So I said, cool, I need to be out by 6:30,
but meantime, get me a glass of wine. I opted for the
Esperto Pinot Grigio, which was tart and citrusy and
altogether pleasant ... but with my appetizer, which was
described as orange zested scallops, lobster oil, tomalley
I chose Vermentino La Cala (Sardinia), which might have
been okay, but the bottle was kind of oxidized, so I
gave the kids (they were in fact kids) an impromptu
lesson in maderization, which they did not understand,
like, you know, at all. Went back to the Pinot Grigio,
which was fine. The scallops, two biggish ones, were
nicely crusted but just slightly overdone. Okay, one
was really overdone, the way the general public is used
to, the other slightly overdone, the way food critics
like. The orange zest was a silly pile on top of the
scallops; the lobster oil was just oil, it could have
been baby oil for all that; and the tomalley came
spread on toast rounds and broiled: pretty good.

Had a glass of completely unmemorable red wine with my
roast chicken with truffles, lovage, and celery, which was
1. overcooked, even when I asked for it on the rare side;
and I would have sent it back had I not been in a bit of
a hurry; 2. absent the truffles; and 3. the celery was
celeriac puree, which is fine.

This delightful meal set me back over $50. The owner
came in just as I was ready to go and asked if everything
was okay - I made a modest gripe about the chicken, and
she got all defensive and said that in all her years she
had never heard anyone ask for rare chicken. I was about
to call her an idiot bitch but refrained.

Verdict: the sooner this place goes out of business the better.
=

Went with Uncle S. Y. to David Craig for lunch: this is
one of the new fancy places in Bethesda competing for your
dollar, and it does so by charging just a tad too much for
everything. The food, though, is quite good. Service was
a little spotty.

The maitre d' was a chubby-faced but unshaven young gent in
his 30s, the sort who would have been a bartender, except
that now bartenders are expected to interact with their
customers. He said that we could sit in front (light and
chilly) or in back (less bright but warmer), so we said
the back, please; he said that there was a table in the
corridor or by the kitchen, and we said, the corridor is
fine. Not knowing that the corridor table is in fact right
in front of the kitchen door, and the kitchen table is in
front of a window looking over the kitchen, only it's at
a low eye level when you're standing, so when you're sitting
you don't notice much at all. Oh well, we shrugged.

Our waiter, younger but perhaps not stupider, made 3 or 4
trips to the one occupied table in front before giving us
bread (ok but cold), butter (ok but old), and menus, which
are one page.

I asked for the homemade pasta with giant shrimp in a light
tomato sauce; S. Y. ordered vialone risotto with lobster
and mascarpone, which sounded good except for the cheese.

A Satori Pinot Grigio 05 was a decent glass of somewhat
characterless wine that tasted as though it had a touch of
bleach in it. Still, the only thing on the list that went
with shellfish and that I could afford. S. Y. had a glass
of Chardonnay that wasn't much better.

After a bit of wait I'd finished my wine; so I asked for
a second glass of it. Which, if you couldn't guess, was
REALLY oxidized. Called the manager, whatever he was over
and pointed this out. He sort of went, what th'?, and I
explained the reaction and the problem to him, with the
visual and gustatory aid of the new glass of wine and the
half-inch of wine in the old glass. His idiot face lit up
just a bit. Sort of like corked, he asked. Not exactly, I
said, but gave up. He said, that's weird, it's a new
bottle; I said it wasn't too bad, just not right, you
could cook with it, so he actually took the bottle and
toted it into the kitchen! I didn't care; just so they
opened a decent fresh bottle for me. So they did.

Around the time I'd have thought the risotto was cooked
(i.e., 30 min after ordering), the maitre d' manager person
slouched back with the news that the fish vendor hadn't
come in, and the shrimp were off (but the lobster wasn't,
thought I). So after a small amount of thought we decided
I'd also get the risotto ... which posed no problem to
the kitchen, oddly, as I thought maybe they'd have to make
two separate risotti, but no. We just had to wait another
half hour. What the hell did they think they were doing?

Eventually the dishes came out, very plain, white on white
with a bit of pink sticking out. An average, maybe even
modest portion. I tasted it. No lobster flavor, just a
generic shellfish stock with slightly turned wine (my
bottle?), and lots of cream cheese. Lots. Luckily I'd just
bought some pills. Poked around and found that though the
surface had half the claw and knuckle meat of a lobster,
the risotto (pretty decent rice, but no rice flavor, just
lots of cream cheese) covered up a half a large lobster
tail, and in fact there was about as much lobster as rice.
Of course, vialone rice may cost as much as lobster, for
all I know. The lobster was rare, almost raw, as though
it had been put raw on the plate and cooked by the heat
of the risotto. Which doesn't bother me - that might be
the way I'd make such a dish for myself. It actually was
okay, all in all, except for the cheese, which nonetheless
made the smallish portion into a largish portion. 

We had room and time for dessert; S. Y. had creme brulee,
which he said was one of the richest and best he'd ever
had; I ordered pink grapefruit sabayon with cat's tongues,
wondering what I'd get. Four segment of grapefruit napped
in a slightly too thin egg-wine sauce; not bad. The cookie
was nice and crisp.

Verdict: keep the cook. Fire the staff.

=

Carol was excited about the 4 Seasons Grille, which opened
in Waugh Chapel a couple miles from the house. On a weekday
night it was hopping - both bar and restaurant sides were
pretty full. A big old sort of Mediterranean fusiony menu,
with some cool looking choices undone by a huge reliance on
goat cheese and gorgonzola.

Carol had paella valenciana, which was sort of kitchen
sinkish: decent yellow rice (no saffron aroma - I think they
cheated and used more turmeric than anything else) with the
usual suspects, more or less: shrimp, mussels (extremely
fishy, bordering on bad), chicken breast chunks that were
surprisingly tender and not overcooked, and merguez standing
in for chorizo. There was a lot of food, much of it protein.
Carol took home half, which I had for lunch the next day,
but even then I picked out 1/4 lb of chicken bits and a
couple ounces of sausage to make a sauce out of for later.

The special of the day was "whole baby pig," and we were
both sort of envisioning a fetal pig on a plate; but on
inquiry the waitress, who was nice but kind of clueless,
said, oh, no, the pig is out there (motioning to the
kitchen). I asked for the special with extra fatty bits
if possible. When it came it was quite different from
what I'd expected - in fact, it had been almost boned out,
the cavity stuffed with celery and carrots, and roasted;
then it was chilled, sliced with a slicer (the meat was
preternaturally even in thickness), and reheated. Over
this was ladled a sort of bordelaise sauce probably out
of a can. There were virtually no fatty bits, and the
exterior skin, which had once been crisp and nice, had
been soggified, ruined by the sauce. There was still one
little it of undefiled skin left, and I savored it for
a long time. It was a lot of food, and it tasted pretty
good (if salty - the pig had been brined; and, further, it
was a biggish pig, probably about the size of the one from
the Montreal Munch some years ago). But it was not at all
as expected or hoped for. The side was polenta, otherwise
known as cheese grits in the civilized world; I had one
bite and had the rest boxed up for Carol to eat later.
Ordered a side of spinach, which came as an example of
Unclear on the Concept. It was lots of sauteed red bell
pepper (okay), a bit of spinach (extremely bland), and
a lot of pine nuts (okay, but they don't go with spinach).
Weird thing about the pig. It had been boned but for the
shoulder bones. I wondered what the point was of that. I
believe it was intentional, as the bones were symmetrically
opposite. They also were clean cut through in the way that
only something cut with a major big blade while it is cold
or frozen can be.

Boutari Moschofilero 05 was a somewhat flabby but acceptable
wine that underscored the gaminess of the mussels and actually
went okay with the pork dish once I scraped the sauce off.
Apples, citrus, a softish mouth presence, not much finish.

Verdict: mediocrity and big portions. I'll go back.


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