Text 22149, 91 rader
Skriven 2012-03-07 11:03:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: last night's dinner 338
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I'm in the Boston area for concerts, and my friend Link
and I were casting about for a place to have dinner
before rehearsal, and we passed by where the Big Lou
used to be (this was a bar and barbecue place in Revere,
where I went occasionally because of the name and the low
prices on tips with my friend Ella Lou when I was still
living around there). It's now called the 338 Grill, and
out on the sign was this tidbit - TUE PRIME RIB ... so we
youied it and went there for an early meal. The first
thing that greets you as you go in is a poster that says
338 Brew one liter $5. Good start. The bartender was
smiling and cute. The prime rib special was $12.95. All
good. I ordered a 338 Brew, which came in a Beck's mug
(Beck's itself is not available). This came looking and
tasting like sody water with caramel coloring: on inquiry it
was admitted to be Budweiser Select 55 under another name,
at a whopping 2.4% alcohol, so in fact the liter was
essentially a pint of beer and a pint of water. One good
thing - it is an extremely clean-tasting liquid, no edges
anywhere; another good thing is now I no longer have to
wonder what the stuff is like.

When the prime rib came (rarest piece you have, I said),
it was kind of medium, pinkish, extremely tight-grained
with a certain amount of exterior fat but none inside,
lukewarm, in a coolish au jus sauce (not really jus, but
rather some combination of saltwater and chemicals). What
I suspect was it was premade in some commissary and then
shipped out for $4 a pound and sold at $10 a pound after
the chef's final touches of a heavy salting and peppering
of the fat cap and a halfhearted finish in the oven. Oh, the
meat was select at best, and I had a hard time finishing
the pound or so not counting the bone, where the most
palatable part of the meal was attached. On the side came
yellow and green zucchini (chef's touch: Italian seasoning)
and precooked boiled potatoes (chef's touch: more Italian
seasoning, this time with extra basil, which was weird).

Link had an enormous platter of eggplant parm over ziti -
the lady down the way nursing her beer had oohed and ahed
at my meal's size; when she saw Link's she waas beside
herself: she commented, yours is normal big, hers is bizarre.
As precooking eggplant parm is a good idea, this was actually
quite a nice dish and very satisfying at $10 - Link took a
full half of it back for next day. She was a bit wiser with
her drink choice and had a pint of Harpoon IPA for about the
same price as my behemoth brew, getting more alcohol, more
flavor, and more satisfaction for her $5 than I got for mine.

==

Contrast the last prerehearsal meal, at Victor's in Cliftondale,
a takeout sub shop that has put in 3 or 4 tables to catch the
homeless crowd, such as me.

I had chicken Romano, which turned out to be a respectable
chicken marsala with a bunch of mozzarella melted over (same
price and portion as the marsala version, so after scraping
off the cheese and giving it to Link I was perfectly well
served). This comes with linguini or ziti, and of course I
got the former, as I distrust tube pasta (too often it catches
water). As the place doesn't have a wine-beer license I
settled for the closest thing, Grape Crush artificial grape
soda, for which I have an unaccountable soft spot. A very
satisfying meal for $15 or so. Link had wild mushroom ravioli
in alfredo sauce - house-made ravioli stuffed with a flavorful
mixture of garlic, porcini, regular mushrooms, and Parmesan -
excessively rich but extremely tasty (I had half a raviolo and
that was way enough for me). The waitress, who was actually
the cashier, offered bread, but we refused it, having enough
starch - it looked like your spongy mass-produced quasi-Italian
loaf.

Shortly after we ordered, a guy came in with his toddler daughter;
asked what she wanted, she squealed, I ALWAYS get the chicken
Romano. Asked about pasta, she said, I ALWAYS get ziti. He, by
contrast, just ordered a sub. A few minutes later, chicken Romano
with linguini came out and was plopped in front of her: she
wrinkled her nose at it, because she always gets ziti. The cook,
who had brought it out, noted the mistake and brought it to me,
where it belonged. The father said, why not try something new once
in a while; she refused vociferously even after I offered to make
up a little plate with linguini and chicken on it. Soon thereafter
her proper plate came, and all was right, except that father dared
to take a few bites of her dinner "to see if it was all right,"
to which she protested as well, saying it's always all right. The
plate being substantially bigger than her head, there was enough
to go around, with even a couple bites left after.
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