Rooting for Russell House Tavern - Cambridge

Wikipedia tells me that the concept of a gastropub originated in Britain, a term coined to describe a bar and restaurant that serves high-end food and beer. And since Wikipedia also tells me how to practice medicine, clearly this definition is a fact.

Gershwin was American in Paris, and Russell House is British in Cambridge. And I guess the Hickory Smoked Pork Loin Sandwich is a Cuban...in a British gastropub…in Cambridge. The pork has a soft-spoken, mellifluous flow with a sweet accent of apple, but there’s no way this sandwich can stand in a city as deeply-rooted in American tradition without a bang of cheddar and aioli. Shoestring fried onions also break the formality of proper English and adds that loud crunch that can only be the refreshing taste of American.

When it comes to burgers, my biggest pet peeve is when the bun outgrows the burger. Burger patties inevitably slide forward as you keep taking bites, and by the time you get ready to savor that last bit of scrumptiousness, you find that the only remaining delight is a sliver of cheese in a face full of bun.

The Russell House Grass Fed Burger wins Boston Magazine’s Best Wrapping award, a prestigious commendation for the unsung English muffin, a bun that eliminates this problem. My favorite part about the English muffin is the size because bigger isn’t always better. Usually the burger fits snugly into a sesame bun, but here the thick, monstrous patty juts out from every side of the muffin, and yes, smart ass, I’m well aware that circles don’t have sides. Regardless of the container, it’s hard to argue with juice-dripping ground beef and thick slabs of bacon, topped with sweet caramelized onions.

Only one gastropub has managed to make its way into Michelin, because if that’s what Wikipedia says, then clearly that’s the truth. That gastropub is not Russell House, but it still puts 4 stars in my eyes. Besides, the British aren’t exactly known for their cooking so high-end bar food could really just mean it’s warm. But Russell House is an all-around win for lunch/brunch - their sandwiches are sublime. Now feed me a dinner entrée ducky, and we’ll see how it goes.

Faithful First Printer – Cambridge

I like First Printer, but I object to its name. The website marks it as the former site of the first printer in America, but thanks to the ambiguous name, I passed it by for months thinking it was a bookstore. Further research reveals that America’s first printer was a man by the name of Stephen Daye. Deskjet is a terrible name for a restaurant, so I’d call it Daye’s Inn…and pass it by for years thinking it’s a hotel.

We started our meal at this historically reliable establishment with a good ole order of Hush Puppies of the Day. I’m not sure how these relate to the printing industry, but each dense, fried, golden-brown mouthful of tender crab and flaky cod is an exact, awesome duplicate of the one before.

The best thing about a printer is the consistency. As long as you have ink, every printout is as consistently accurate as the original. The thing is, consistency is rarely noticed until it’s no longer there, and that’s how I noticed the Shrimp & Grits. The grits were pretty perfect, but merely topping grits with shrimp does NOT make shrimp & grits. Bring that dish down south, and you’ll be as popular as evolution.

I wasn’t impressed by the southern cuisine, but the French Onion Bison Burger was like upgrading from a basic printer to laser. Any printer can spit out the black-and-white copies of hush puppies and grits, but this meaty French onion soup is photo quality all the way. A thick, gamier version of the classic burger, the gravy and gruyere soak into the bun, which quickly becomes a toasted bread bowl. The French onion has all the sophistication of a lady, but the bison puts a little hair on your chest.

The bison burger was awesome, but every meal improves with a good drink to wash it down. The Godfather is an ideal mix of scotch and amaretto for a man with a burger (or a girl with a burger who drinks like a man…), and the hard cider is a sweet choice for festive fall.

When you go to Kinko’s, you pay a little more than you want to for a consistent print job that will faithfully produce those flyers for your bake sale. When you go to First Printer, you pay a little more than you want to for a solid high-end meal that will faithfully fill your belly by the end of the night. The thing is, no one is ever excited about a trip to Kinko’s, and First Printer was more like a culinary errand. The menu is as diverse as America itself; a little bit of this, and a little bit of that. Yet it dabbles but does not invest. There are southern dishes interspersed among the dishes that look like they were fished fresh from the harbor. But everything’s been done and I see no inspiration or thought. The menu looks like it’s trying to marry north and south, but even that’s been done. Go see Lincoln in theatres if you don’t know what I’m talking about.

Gimme More Grafton Street – Cambridge

When it comes to restaurants, Grafton Street is one of the most adequately named. A less-known corner of a well-known street, Grafton tries to stay true to your neighborhood pub despite being a little upscale…AND despite the fact that Harvard Square is, let’s face it, everyone’s neighborhood. Reservations aside, it’s really Grafton Street that captures the true essence of this lively neighborhood and all the spirit of VeRiTas it comes with.

Like any well-rounded Ivy idol, Grafton Street’s menu is always well-balanced. The entrees are a date-night splurge for an undergrad with an anniversary, but the sandwiches make for an affordable catch-up meal with any chum. The bar area is good for drinks but not so obviously alcoholic that you can’t order water if you’re too young to drink.  

Harvard may be deep-rooted in its seat of tradition and prestige. Harvard may feel as old as time, but Harvard Square itself is never without a freshman breath of air. The buzz of aspiring scholars, the rudimentary relics of budding artists, and the constant swishing flow of ideas from those destined to change the world fills the soul almost as much as the Grafton Street’s homey fare fill the belly.

Grafton Street’s menu teems with tradition including cultural classics like bouillabaisse, burgers, and a good ole Yankee pot roast, but this little “pub” still keeps it fresh. The classic pot roast is made with short rib, the latest cut in fine dining, and my New England Bouillabaisse, a French seafood stew as old as elitism itself was lightened by a selection of shellfish in a rich and filling yet not-too-dense broth. The slice of toast dripping with a refreshing alioli-like topping just doubles the fun. The unbelievably well-made hake is yet another unstuffy addition to the dish that embodies Harvard’s effortless elite.

The Grafton Burger glows with all the sweet simplicity of the wide-eyed kids far from home. The patty is juicy with all the flavor of their promise, and the caramelized onion completes the whole package of Ivy League ideals. This burger is almost as intoxicating as the beer half the patrons are too young to (legally) drink.

The underlying spirit of Harvard Square is the depth and warmth of the friendships formed by those who learn and grow together. It was only appropriate that I ate there with Valerie, my friend of exactly ten years. Valerie and I met at a gifted-and-talent camp when we were wide-eyed Southern girls, finally free from the oppressive den of the tiger mom. Over the years, our friendship has become just the right amount of sweet with a few layers of complexity, much like the White Chocolate Cheesecake. Our friendship is a recipe honed over the years, and like this cheesecake, we’ve got it right. And like my friendship with Valerie, my friendship with Grafton Street is only beginning. 

Pleasing Park Restaurant and Bar - Cambridge

From the moment I saw that parking was validated (on weekdays only) for the garage directly above the restaurant, I knew that it was going to be a good night to Park. Though I should probably pronounce it Pahk if I'm extolling the awesomeness of a restaurant in Hah-vahd Square.

Park houses the ultimate casual, unpretentious, tavern-esque ambiance with food far better than the no-frills unfinished wooden tables and booths would suggest. It's the ideal place to grab a beer and a couple appetizers to snack on or to go out for a fun dinner date. My night started on a lovely note with the goat cheese dip – no boring bread served here!

The Roasted Beets in red and yellow are sweet and juicy with creamy goat cheese and a tangy citrus dressing. This cool-as-a-cucumber salad is the sweet summer Blue Moon with a slice of orange. That first cold sip of a Belgian beer brightens a summer day and whets the appetite when Boston's stifling heat and humidity overwhelm it.

The Crispy Duck Leg with a sharp blackberry glaze is a Guinness – meant to whet the appetite but becomes a meal. The bed of lentils stick to your belly with all the solid density of a frothy stout, but the dark-meat duck remains light and juicy, smooth as a Tsingtao with all the full-bodied flavor of the Guinness.

  

The Summer Tomato Risotto is the ultimate successful adaptation of a warm winter dish into something light and summery. It tasted nothing like bitter parmesan, and the cool, fresh mozzarella with tangy tomato make it as light as an ice-cold Allagash White.

I didn’t know that belly was a cut of lamb until I ordered the Grilled Lamb Belly. It’s a lot like pork belly with a thin, crispy skin and a thick layer of fat, but the strong flavor of lamb prevails to add a gamey quality. The fat also mollifies the lamb in turn, achieving the perfect balance of pure alcohol vs hops, as harmonious as the Delirium Tremens we drank.

The Peach and Plum Pie was filled with a chewy, non-goopy fruit, just the way I like it, but at best, it’s the ordinary Coors Light you pop open at a friend's summer barbecue – nothing special. The crust was a bit too hard, probably baked too long. I appreciated the lack of added sugar, but the fruit didn’t have much flavor either.

The rich, dense Triple Chocolate Terrine is Young's Double Chocolate Stout all the way. A stout so thick it might as well be served on a plate, so rich you slosh it around in your mouth to break it up before swallowing. Like the stout, the terrine is the perfect eat-it-slow texture, a dense, not-too-sweet chocolate loaf, a nightmare of indulgence for the Puritans that once ruled in Mass.

Speaking of Puritans, Park is as Bostonian as Sam Adams and as laid back as Harpoon. It is the ultimate Cambridge restaurant. This dimly-lit den of dining radiates warmth, and the little hearth in the middle adds to the pre-revolution spirit of the casual yet unified American tavern. The wooden tables are unpretentious, and the general attitude is one of chattery contentment. It is almost puritanical in its simplicity…except you’re allowed to drink…and wear colors other than black…and be happy… Basically, Park had me at the beer. Everything else was just icing on the cake. Park is the right mix of all that is good, and it is my cup of tea, my flagon of ale, and my stein of beer.

Settling for Sandrine’s Bistro – Cambridge

It’s not a good thing if I’m in a bad mood before I’ve even sat down. But not all service here is bad. Don’t ask for directions to the parking garages they validate – you get an honest effort with a vague description and a condescending rebuttal when you look confused. However, our server was delightful, and the hostess graciously revived my dying cell phone at her station so I guess they evened out ok.

Overall, the food itself was quite good though a bit overpriced. Not fantastic but just barely enough to override the incompetent directions – clearly the chef gives lucid directions…My Organic Roasted Herbes de Provence Half Chicken was moist but not quite juicy, in a tasty jus with just enough salt to enhance the herbs. The pommes frites were perfect, as is expected of all French restaurants.

The Vegetable Feuillate was impressive – I’ve never seen a French restaurant work with tofu, but it turns out they do “vegetarian meat” just as well. The soy-glazed tofu perched on flaky pastry with a mild but pleasantly-flavored vegetable ragout, and the basil vinaigrette completed the dish with pretty green ribbons of zest.

Sometimes in our lives we are forced to contend with the inevitable: something doesn’t go our way, and we settle. We settle on an alternative option, which isn’t necessarily as negative as it sounds. Some alternatives are better than the original plan – like seeing the obscure musical Next to Normal on Broadway when Phantom sells out. Some are close enough/indistinguishable from the original plan – is your royal blue halter dress that matches your eyes really worse than that pink strapless number that didn’t come in your size?

Then there are the decisions that are far worse than the original idea: meeting a cute guy at a bar, letting your friend have him, and deflecting his vile friend who now won’t stop calling you. Buying the extra small dress when they’re out of small and thinking that no one will notice your back cleavage. Eating that extra helping of fettuccini alfredo on a first date when you’re lactose intolerant right before you go see a 3-hour play at the theatre.

Sandrine’s doesn’t necessarily fall in the latter category of bad ideas, and I’m not sure if it’s quite in the close enough category, but it’s just not Gaslight or Aquitaine, and it was just so irresistibly fun to list so many bad ideas…So all tangents aside, skip Sandrine’s.