Divulging Dali – Somerville

There's a lot to divulge when it comes to Dali…hence the needlessly long review. Every dish is uniquely crafted with an impressive range of skill and ingredients, and the flavors are so unique that every little detail is description-worthy. It’s really saying something when you make something that a Chinese person has never conceived of…

With the exception of Malbec, I had yet to enjoy a wine from any Spanish-speaking country,  and ever since a most unfortunate encounter with Casillero del Diablo, which I can only describe as so devilishly disgusting it could only have been fermented in the 10^th circle of hell, I have been wary of wine with names that sound even remotely Spanish. At Dali we started our meal with a glass of white and a glass of red recommended by the server. I don’t remember what they were, but let’s just say that Dali cured my Spanish wine PTSD one sip at a time…

Hands down, the single best (and probably the most inventive) dish I had at Dali was the Queso Rebozado con Miel. Honey with cheese? Obviously a good idea…Cheese with onion? Conceivable…Honey with onion? Are you nuts?! Turns out, the chef wasn’t nuts, just genius. The caramelized onion retained none of the tear-jerking sting and added a textured depth to the sweet honey with gooey fried cheese. Contrary to Castillero del Diablo wine, this dish was pure taste of heaven.

Sorry Dali, but the Tortilla Espanola is a bit crude, and the alioli topper doesn’t hold a candle…or a glass of sangria…to Toro. Nothing reproachable about this dish and it’s sure to be a crowd pleaser, but meh…

The slightly-sweet but not sweetened chestnut with a homey, grainy, comfort-food texture made for a filling Esencia de Castanas. Dali’s equivalent of black bean or tomato soup on a cold winter day.

The Alcachofas Rellenas were like most neuro exams I’ve performed…unremarkable. The artichoke was sour, which clashed with the mushroom stuffing, and the cheese was the only really good part of this dish. Honestly, quadruple the amount of cheese could have saved the dish…like alteplase for a TIA.

Ever used invisible ink? I have. Ever had inedible ink? I have. It’s called Chipirones Rellenos, a tender tuna-stuffed squid bathed in its own ink. To be fair, it wasn’t the ink that was inedible, it was the tuna. Squid usually spray ink as a distraction or a way to hide from predators, buying them time to escape. These squid did just that – they sprayed their ink, I ate one, and I sent the dish back because the tuna stuffing was unbearably salty. Sad because if not for that it would have been an amazing dish. It’s ok squid, keep on spraying and one of those ink jets is bound to hit the mark…

Little bunny Foo-Foo went hopping through the forest…we all know that pain-in-the-butt bunny Foo-Foo got what he deserved. What we didn’t know as kids was that being turned into a goon by the good fairy was a euphemism for being turned into a Conejo Escabechado by a good chef. This was the first meat dish the server recommended, and I should have listened to him in the first place.

The Tarta de Santiago was a non-sweet, dense dessert, a good finish if you’re already on richness overload. Not that there was anything non-rich about the savory almond cake wading in a pool of coffee cream, but I for one appreciated the reprieve from the sweet-and-sour red wine sauce of Bunny Foo-Foo.

One of N’SYNC’s love songs from the 90s said “your soul is like a secret that I never could keep”, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Justin Timberlake was talking about Dali. Located within the cryptic land of Somerville, hidden by the winding streets that mark the end of Cambridge, Dali is probably Somerville’s worst-kept secret… I’ve heard about Dali’s prowess for years, but I never thought I’d make all the way out there to witness it. So I implore you, make Dali the secret that you never could keep and check it out for yourself. Just remember to order Queso Rebozado con Miel.