Savory Sorriso - Boston

I thought that only the North End had good Italian, but thanks to Sorriso, I stand corrected. Everything was fabulously flavored, and despite the somewhat inconvenient location, there is very little that would stop me from coming back. Overall the food was a bit saltier than I’d like, but that seems to be the norm for Italian.  Even the pizza had salt, but it fits snugly within the range for someone with different taste so I can’t really dock or complain. 

The service was commendable – our server knew everything about the menu, and her descriptions were right on. And you know the service is good when even your Aquarius (i.e. the guy refilling your water glass, couldn’t resist the Roman reference…) asks if you’re enjoying your meal. 

Biting into the Zucchini Blossoms releases a halo of ricotta, which emitted a bright circle of golden batter. It manages to be reasonably rich without being nauseatingly flavorful. Not the prettiest dish, but the yum-factor is unmistakable. The light frying and the rich cheese make it the perfect plate for the pregnant and the premenstrual.

The gnocchi in the Gnocchi with Oxtail Ragu was a bit too mushy in texture for gnocchi, imo, but the ragu was ridiculous enough to distract me from the gnocchi. Oxtail is a highly underrated meat – it’s close to the bone, so it soaks in the flavor, and its long shreddy texture adds a contrast to the smooth round gnocchi.

Buffalo Mozzerella Pizza is the authentic Italian pizza. It took me right back to the vineyards of Tuscany, and although I morally oppose the $3 extra charge for the authentic Italian pizza upgrade (from the white-people Margherita Pizza, as described by our impressively knowledgeable waitress). However, I would gladly pay $3 to see someone actually milk a buffalo…

The bottom line: For every hell there is a heaven next door, and for every Les Zygomates, there is an adjacent Sorriso. Thank god for Sorriso or I’d avoid South Street like the 10 plagues. I will be back for the pork belly appetizer, please go easy on the salt for me.

Ghazal in This City – Jamaica Plain

Song lyrics to the tune of Pretty Girls by Iyaz…

So many different flavors

So many shades and spices

You comin’ with me or you goin’ with takeout

No surprise, I put it all on the menu for you

Nothin’s too taboo, I’m ready, and I’ll eat with you

There’s a lot of restaurants in this city

There’s a lot of Indian in this town

I’m trying to pick the right one

I’m trying to pick the right one

Trying to find a curry to hold me down

They say for Kashmir on Newberry Street

You gotta have a lot of class

And I heard ain’t nothing like the Mela goat

But you better have a lot of cash

And I know there ain’t nothing like the Tantric bar

Cuz they know how to get you love

No matter where I go

I gotta let you know

That this song is all about Ghazal

See I don’t mean to eat away

The cheese pakora you would not believe

Marveling at the crispy crust

And wishing you would share with me

It’s simple but it’s good stuff

Trust me all you need to know

It’s like an Indian grilled cheese!

There’s only one Ghazal in this city

There’s a lot of Indian in this town

I’m trying to pick the right one

I’m trying to pick the right one

The coconut korma can hold me down

Tell me is it Ghazal?

Is it Ghazal? (x3)

I say to get Korma with Lamb

You gotta love your coconut

I heard, to get a lamb so sweet

You gotta have a lot of nerve

And I know, ain’t nothing like this well-cooked meat

And they know how to make it well

And not matter where I go, I gotta let you know

That Ghazal is way out in JP

I don’t mean to run away for paneer that you would not believe

I’m eating all that shahi sauce

I’m wishing you would drive with me

It’s simple cuz it’s just cheese

But it’s all the cream I need to say

It could be my one and only

There’s a lot of Indians in this city

There’s a lot of restaurants in JP

I’m trying to pick the right one

I’m trying to pick the right one

I’m trying to pick the right one

I’m trying to pick the right one

There’s a lot of Indian in this city

But Ghazal’s the prettiest checkbook in this town

I’m trying to pick the right one

I’m trying to pick the right one

I’m trying to pick the right one

Trying to find a menu to hold me down

Tell me is it Ghazal?

Is it Ghazal? (x4)

Walk the Walk at Elephant Walk – Boston

es, I am starting this review with a photo of my chest. Don’t worry, there’s not much to see. Now, if you’ll just get over the initial shock, you’ll see that the pendant around my neck is an elephant and serves as a literal commemoration of my visit to Elephant Walk. Elephant Walk, a nondescript brick building housing a nondescript ambiance of dimmed lights and two-tops is located in Boston’s gray area of St. Mary’s Street and Beacon that is neither Brookline nor Allston nor Kenmore. Sadly, the only non-literal things about this restaurant are its location and its name. Then again, all elephants are gray so maybe just one non-literal thing…

I pause my literal tirade to compliment the bread, which was the only thing remotely close to fusion – sad because it’s the fusing of cultures, not the fusing of food. It seems that when you combine two cultures that are conquers of carbs, the end result is a powerfully good loaf of bread. Aside from the bread, the menu at Elephant Walk is as literal as my necklace. There is Cambodian and there is French. You may choose the Cambodian or you may choose the French. That is all.

Our meal started with the vegetarian Rouleaux – traditional Cambodian spring rolls with a French name. I named them magnifique and that’s all that matters. The spring rolls were a little greasier than I would have liked, but the tasty veggie filling wrapped in a fresh basil leaf with a sweet dipping sauce “fused” into what was probably the best spring roll I’ve ever had. Literally.

The veggie entrée was so unremarkable I literally don’t remember what it was. And allow me to remind you that I forget men’s names faster than I forget food names…(Think back to med school orientation: “ANSHUL! For the third time, my name is ANSHUL!!!”) I think it was the Tofu Citronnelle but don’t quote me on that…It certainly wasn’t Anshul… Another French name for French-fried tofu with a slightly spicy, glorified sweet & sour sauce, a stirfry I literally could have made at home for far less than the outrageous $17 they had the nerve to charge.

I rarely comment on the price of things, but my Khar Saiko Kroeung was equally overpriced. And equally literal. The menu described a braised boneless shortrib, jasmine rice, and a cucumber garnish. And there it was. As you see by the photo, it is literally slabs of shortrib with a pretty mold of rice. The scallion oil was a nice touch, but it was really just rice and meat with a few slices of cool cukes. To be fair, the meat was flavorful and perfectly braised, but $18.95 should at least buy me cooked cukes...

Overall, Elephant Walk is a place of literally good food, a testament to their ability to survive in a neighborhood replete with students whose loans make upscale dining and exorbitant pricing a rarity. The food is indeed well-made, and the amazing flavor and tenderness of my shortrib is undeniable, but what you see is what you get. On the upside, the menu will talk the talk and the chef will walk the walk, but I will have to have exhausted all my options before I walk back into Elephant Walk. 

J’adore Dore Creperie - Boston

There is a god, and I think he may be French. Or at least a Francophile. Maybe he’s an Asian Francophile? That would rock my world…Either way, he’s smiling on the Francophiles in Boston because there’s a new accessible creperie in the Financial District and it’s actually good. Tragically, it’s only open on weekdays and only for lunch. WHY?!?! Sniffsniff…

The smartest thing I did after a grueling psych exam (which drove me crazy) was to go to Dore with my equally omnivorous friend. Why, you ask? Because crepes, no matter what size, are very amenable to being cut in half. And though my life would have been complete after just one crepe, who the heck turns down a ménage a trois?

Apples and Brie: We started savory with the Apples and Brie, and you gotta love the gaggle of Granny Smiths. Besides, apples are good for you! They have fiber and they keep the doctor away! Though I guess that didn’t really work since two aspiring MDs were munching away…Regardless, I just kept telling myself I needed the fiber because they definitely didn’t skimp on that gooey melted brie…but that’s calcium for bone density, right?

Figgy Smalls: Alas, what is in a name? Not much accuracy if that’s what you ordered. There is nothing small about the flavor in this sweet but salty, grainy but creamy prosciutto, goat cheese, and fig concoction. Maybe the name was dead on? They DID manage to cram a little bit of a lot into a “small” crepe…

Bananas Foster: Here is where I almost popped the button off my jeans. But that’s ok. Because I’m 5 short minutes from Downtown Crossing where I could buy new pants. So clearly that didn’t stop me from “crepe”ing forward. Every good savory crepe will foster your craving for a sweet finish. So I found my reprieve in the warm, cinnamon-sugar gooeyness of the Bananas Foster, which, believe me, will also foster your desire to take daily trips to Dore.

The best part, yes, this actually gets better, is that each crepe is a meal in itself, and the prices are so reasonable there’s no reason to not go daily. That being said, is anyone in the financial district in need of a useless med student? Will work for crepes…

Booty From Beauty and Essex – NYC

This place is another creation of a close friend of mine so again, I’m giving the customary disclaimer and asserting that I will not be giving this place a rating…

Ok, first of all, get your mind out of the gutter. You read the title. I know what you were thinking. But no. Seriously, no, No, and NO. The “booty” is the impressive display of antiques in the front of the restaurant, which is made to look like your traditional LES pawn shop, and allow me to clarify that I brought nothing home from the restaurant. Fun fact: some of the items actually have pricetags and can be purchased, though I would probably NOT tell your date that… And now, if I need to explain how the title of this post also applies to the food as a clever pun for the treasury of treats found at Beauty and Essex, just stop reading. Seriously.

I almost never splurge on drinks when I go out, but here I had to physically restrain myself from getting a second. I had the Smoked Opal Martini, a pretty pink in a glass rimmed with a smoky herb – I think it was basil. Every drink is unique, and I seriously doubt there are any bad ones. If you’re indecisive like me, just close your eyes and point.

Every time I dine with my bff Ben, my eyes get bigger. Which is hard to do since I’m Asian…Unfortunately, they always get bigger than my stomach, as you’ll see by the shear volume of food we ordered. We started with the Sashimi of Tuna, Tonnato Style, pretty pink tuna, cut into perfect squares, just big enough for a satisfying bite. The chorizo added a pleasant but not needed crunch, a perfect addition to an already-perfect dish. My only critique is that this dish is difficult to share. After one melt-in-my-mouth bite, I would have stabbed anyone who tried to take more than their share.

If there were a vegetarian equivalent of pate, it would be the Avocado, Lemon & Espelette. Spread across a thick toast, the lightly-seasoned avocado lingers with the help of the lemon, and it’s really just impossible to complain about good avocado.

I think the overriding theme here is that the dishes form an appetizing array of vibrant colors. The Kale and Apple Salad is a colorful intermediate that combines the reds and whites of an apple with deep forest-green kale. A hearty salad with thick, softly bitter kale balanced by crisp, sweet apple. In short, a color palette that pleases every palate. I’m rarely a fan of salad, but I would order this again, even without the side of peer pressure.

The only thing I wouldn’t order again is the Braised Short Rib Tamales. There was absolutely nothing wrong with them, but Taranta had better cornmeal. And although the short rib is well-braised, and I love the authenticity of the golden cornmeal peeking from the dark green cornhusk, there are better things on the menu.

The child who grows up by the ocean can only dream of something as scrumptious as the Lobster Mac & Cheese. I take a pretty neutral stand on this dish but props for making the lobster flavor permeate, and who can say no to gooey mac & cheese?

Never in a million years did I think I would fall in love with the Chicken Meatballs. I don’t even like ground chicken. The sight of this dish made me sing “On top of old spaghetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed…” (PLEASE tell me you remember that song from summer camp). But the truffle adds a twist of sophistication, and the bed of ricotta adds a don’t-put-your-fork-down-until-it’s-gone quality to this otherwise deceptively mundane dish.

A team is only as strong as its weakest player, and the Root Beer and Cookies dessert was definitely not Beauty & Essex’s weakest link. Think cooking doesn’t involve chemistry? Think again. The reverse root beer float is mind-boggling genius. The cookies just had to be there, but mine are better, come see for yourself. (To my friends who have sampled my baking, a little support please?) Otherwise, the panna cotta was right on with the thick texture and the conservative amount of sugar. The other 2 elements were good, but it’s still the reverse float that fascinates me.

Ladies, when you take that customary gossip-about-the-guys-we’re-with or escape-the-loser trip to the restroom, bring your ID and invite Mr. Washington. There’s a complimentary champagne bar waiting for you inside the ladies room with a circular couch to sit on while you gossip over bubbly. Just try to stay sober enough to get back up the stairs and back to your fabulous food.