Clink with Class – Boston

The word Clink conjures an amazing image. It’s the pure ring of happiness born from the clashing of flutes, the celebration of a victory on the Formula One racecourse or the race of life, a lifetime union with a ball and chain, all in the setting of a former jail. With its many uses, champagne is a tradition as antiquated as the monks who prematurely bottled their first incompletely fermented wine. The French will probably swear up and down that it was intentional, but Clink will probably swear that about their salsa verde too...(more on that later).

The very first step of making champagne is picking the grapes. That would be the hardest step for me. Anyone who expects me to pick bunches of glistening vine-ripened grapes without eating them is seriously delusional. I thought the people at Clink were equally delusional if they didn’t think I’d see through the transparent cheapness of the all-salad restaurant week menu. Turns out, I didn’t see what I saw because their salads were actually the best thing they made. The Summer Salad of Pease, Heart of Palm, and Shiso Vinaigrette was full of crunchy vine-ripened snap peas with crisp palm hearts, probably the best salad I’ve had to date.

I got as excited about the Pearl Tomatoes with Aged Balsamic Mozzarella Pearls and Basil as the guys from Moet & Chandon get about sparkling wine from Long Island. But like LI’s Sparkling Pointe, this one was a pretty, pleasant piece. Not quite as exceptional as Sparkling Pointe’s products (their vintner trained in Reims, after all), but the pearl tomatoes actually resembled ripe little grapes interspersed with white pearls of mozzarella. Another nice summer salad but not quite as memorable as the previously mentioned masterpease.

The next step to a crystal-clear champagne is the crushing of the grapes. If only the salsa verde on the Bavette Steak were prepared with such care. It was a hot green mess that tasted sour enough to be fermented with a hint of cilantro and very little else. It conjures the image of a disaster whose only equal is that infamous grape-stomping video. It didn’t actually go with anything, including the steak, which was a nice medium rare with a toughness that decorates the nightmares of dedicated dentists. At least the yucca puree was good, but one good side doesn’t make up for a plate of atrocity.

I generally avoid swordfish. I find it bland and hard with none of the flakiness I desire from a good cod and none of the juice of a properly-cooked salmon. The Swordfish with Succotash was a hue of white-beige that resembled the pale neutral of yeast, the key catalyst to the fermentation process. The fish wasn’t bubbly, but it was juicy like a fruity champagne. With just the right sprinkling of salt, blunt and bland turned tempting and tasty.

The most fun part of making champagne is blowing the yeast out of the bottle, and the most fun part of this meal was the dessert. The chunks of chilled chocolate in the Mocha Granita will curb any chocolate craving…and they taste much better than yeast.

After the neck of the bottle is frozen, the bubbles in the bottle force the ice out, like the overflowing froth of the Taza Chocolate Ice Cream Float. It bears mentioning that both desserts were served in Clink-able glasses.

Unfortunately, Clink simply wasn’t bottled in Champagne, a fact that the steak and mediocrity made impossible to ignore. Clink may occasionally hint at the splendor of something real, but in the end it’s an imitation sparkling wine bottled in a touristy hotel. Though especially good in some aspects, Clink is just not worthy of the appellation of champagne.