Going to The Gallows UPDATE – Boston

As a rule, I won’t write an update more than once unless the restaurant undergoes a significant change, for better or for worse. (1) Because my reviews are already pretty comprehensive and my updates rarely offer extra insight. And (2) because no matter what you say politely, do you really need to hear me babble about how much I loved a place for the third time?

This will be my third update on The Gallows. (1) Because I tried the brunch for the first time, (2) because it was too good to keep to myself, and (3) because I can. You may want to make your own gallows at the sight of yet another Gallows gush-fest so hopefully this will be my only extra update.

I’ve heard about the brunch, I’ve dreamed about the brunch, and I’ve always wondered the brunch was better than lunch. The answer is a resounding yes, mostly because the lunch menu is just an abbreviated version of dinner.

My French Quarter was a taste of the heart of the N’awlins, all in (1) circular stack. The stack starts with the famous fried oysters, straight off the nearest burger. The oysters are strategically placed on top of one so-called semolina dumpling, which tastes like a round grits cake struck by a polenta asteroid.  One fried green tomato adds a tart freshness to contrast the andouille sausage gravy, which runs in place of an egg yolk in this stack of southern Benedict.

(2) entrees are better than one, and the light-yet-filling Breakfast Crostini will definitely make you look twice. The grainy-smooth fava bean puree is a no-no for those with G6PD deficiency, a yes-yes for everyone else. The asparagus spears enhance the light, fresh theme of this dish, and although the crisp crostini are initially hard to saw through, they’ll come apart in as little as two cuts after soaking up the yolk from two perfectly poached eggs.

I had never gotten around to the famed Fluffernutter until now. Previous visits left me too full for breathing, never mind for dessert, but considering my upcoming move to LA, I dug right in to my last bite of Boston. One bite and I was a fan, two bites and I was enthralled, (3) bites and I was obsessed. The marshmallow is melty, the peanut butter is buttery, and the chocolate is just chocolately enough to make this the best no-bread version of my favorite lunchtime sandwich. The Gallows may be a one-dessert-wonder, but this one is a number one hit.

Rather than re-enumerate the reasons that The Gallows is my (1) and only, let’s just conclude by saying that it shouldn’t be your number (2). In all of my (3) reviews, The Gallows has been consistently amazing for many more times than that and for many more people than me. So if you haven’t been, go, if have been, go again. If you’ve already been three times, make sure your next visit number (4). No matter how many times I go, I will continue to give (5) stars to The Gallows, and I hope you will too.

Mike’s Diner – Boston

In light of my impending move, I’ve been feeling rather guilty about under-appreciating the better parts of Boston. I feel especially guilty about forgetting to praise the under-appreciated cheap eats such as those of Mike’s Diner. In the foodie’s paradise of South End, good food abounds, but be prepared to pay for the myriad menus that extend beyond the basics. But sometimes we just want to go back to basics, and thanks to this adorable little diner next to Toro, you can always get the basics for a handful of singles and maybe the occasional five.

Mike’s is as much a standard diner as a diner can be. Small and simple with barely enough tables and a counter for the drink-coffee-and-read-paper regulars, Mike’s maintains a minimalist modesty with a side of warmth. The dining area buzzes, and the kitchen hums with the hustle and bustle of scrambled eggs, sizzling bacon, and flying pancakes.

There’s not much more I can say about Mike’s other than that the food is pretty good. Huge portions like this slab of French Toast will never leave you wanting, and the eggs of any style will never disappoint. The Pancakes come in fluffy stacks of four, and it’s $3.50 for a Fried Egg Sandwich if you’re really just that broke.

Mike’s Diner is a simple diner at best and satisfying at worst. The food is good and not very memorable, but that’s expected from a diner. Besides, I have a soft spot for Mike’s. This diner has seen me stressed, listened to me vent, and fed my soul when nothing else would do. Mike’s fed me along the hard road to doctor-hood, and when I do get my doctor hood at graduation and prepare to go, I can only hope to graduate to a diner as good as Mike’s.

Opulent Oishii – Boston

Finally! Things I haven’t seen. Everything’s been done to death in the world of food, and I was getting tired of variations on the same old theme. And there are few cuisines more limiting than Japanese. You can only come up with so many combinations uncooked or minimally cooked fish before it becomes a gimmick, and high-end sushi devolves into a battle of quality. Noodle bowls are an endless arena, but how many more times can I complain about Boston’s dry run on ramen? I had gotten to the point where I just couldn’t take another bite of my beloved rainbow roll without feeling like I was stuck in a fishy rut. So I took a chance and a splurge and watched as Oishii prevailed against all odds. For the first time in Boston, I had stumbled upon a Japanese den of invention and innovation ruled by a chef with a vision.

An amuse bouche is traditionally just one bite, but believe me, you don’t want to throw back this shot of green silk. The Edamame Mousse makes for smooth little spoonfuls, airy and cool with the flavor of unbeatable freshness.

What sushi dinner is complete without a maki? I didn’t expect the maki to complete my life, but this Toro Truffle Maki does the job. Topped with seared toro, a cut of tuna slick from a fatty belly, balanced by cool cukes and a crunchy tempura shrimp. I never expected white truffle to jive with tuna, but these powerful little shavings build on the rich toro and pack some punch of their own.

It takes serious nerve to serve amebi – raw shrimp spoils with a rancid sting faster than you can say ebi. But when confronted with a basket of Chirashi this perfect, the amebi is as sweet as every other brilliant bite. The tuna is tasty, the salmon is solid, but the rice was disappointingly plain. Just don’t be too scared to take a few bites of the battered amebi head for an extra burst of bittersweet. And definitely give due diligence to that little dish of salmon roe.

A Japanese restaurant must have noodles. And the Noodles with Uni (or whatever it’s called) are thin and slightly chewy with just enough fluffy egg to make it filling but light. Break the egg and mix this lighter, classier, and a-lot-less-processed hybrid of bagged ramen and Maggi and chew slowly while the uni bursts with flavor. Take note Via Matta, THIS is how uni is done.

Judging by some the Yelp reviews about the dessert, I got the impression that the Green Tea Tiramisu put the O in Oishii. I usually agree with your average yelper, but I just wasn’t a huge fan. The rich, subtle sweetness of the mascarpone undoubtedly revved my engine, but the tall, narrow dish it was served in had the dimensions of a champagne flute so it was impossible to eat the mascarpone with the bittersweet ladyfinger layer at the bottom. A few bites and I was about a quarter mile short of joining that mile-high club. Mostly because I’m not a fan of digging for buried treasure…especially if it’s my dessert you buried.

Thanks Oishii, you justified my three years in South End. Over the years, I often wondered I should have slipped away in favor of affordable food meccas like Cambridge and Chinatown. But sometimes you really do get what you pay for, and once in a while it’s good to opt for a place like Oishii. Sure it’s pricey and sure it’ll set you back a couple meals out, but this kind of quality with this kind of ingenuity ends up in an experience that is priceless. (For everything else there’s Mastercard).

Buzzing at Beehive – Boston

I can’t say no to live jazz. And I can’t say no to kicking back with a beer at a downstairs bar with picnic tables that are too cool for school. The scene is always set at Beehive, and the place is always buzzing with the sound of a chiller life. You don’t dance so you talk. You shout a little over the jiving jazz, but not so much that you feel like an ignorant tourist speaking English to a foreigner. Because they’re still the foreigner…even if you’re in their country.

I digress, but the laid-back pace of brunch really gives you a little time to think. And I think the music isn’t the only thing that’s jazzy at the Beehive. The food is as classy and classic as this relatively new oldie genre that appeals to the young and old without ever getting old. Sure you can get drinks at any place on Tremont, but live music is a rarity if you’re unwilling to cram into Wally’s. Unfortunately, the brunch is best for solid staples – this menu lacks creativity, ironic for a house that hosts cohorts of artists.

The French Toast is an airy, thick-cut crust covered with Chantilly cream and berries, sweet as honey itself. A sweet mainstream staple of brunch, this one is for those who dine with a hive mentality and want to pollinate some fruit to start their day.

The Eggs Shakshuka is the self-acclaimed “true Bohemian brunch”. I don’t know much about Bohemians, but I never met a food culture I didn’t like.  Poached eggs run a river of gooey yolk over a base of buttery polenta, trapping little honeycombs of tangy tomato sauce in between. If this is the Bohemian version of my glorified southern eggs and grits, buy me a closet of hippie-chic and play me a rhapsody.

Boston values the individual, but still so many flock to the hive. Every culture needs a queen, and the Beehive dominates the South End social scene and houses a happy home of hippies, hipsters, and the just plain hip. Overall, brunch isn’t the best thing Beehive has to offer – only visit this South End if you're trying to jazz it up.

Pica at Picco UPDATE – Boston

There are only two places in Boston where I’ll go just for the pie. Because I’ve never been a huge fan of pie. There’s something about gooey fruit that proves too stingingly sweet-n-sour, and my threshold caps at apple. But Fireplace has a strawberry-rhubarb that’s to die for, and then there’s the pie at Picco. Not a drop of gooey fruit here, just the ever-changing, always-evolving pizza special, and there’s no saying how far I’d go for a piece of that pie.

Picco changes with the seasons, and you’ll always find something you want in any weather. The fall-themed Brussels Sprouts, Butternut Squash & Fontina had greens as bitter as the cold of a New England fall. And look no further for the leaves to change as you gape at the greens, tomato reds, and orange squash that adorn this amazing piece.

In the dead of a February winter, what better way to break the ice than with steaming slabs of Pork Belly & Spiced Alioli? Pork belly tastes good on everything, and this pie was no exception. Alioli makes the world taste better, and it can only improve on the dreaded pasty marinaras carried by all the chains. Sorry Domino’s, there’s no place for you here.

For dessert, you get a massive free scoop of ice cream if you check in on Yelp. The caramel swirl is pure spun strands of sugar in a scoop of milk and more sugar. The ice cream is too sweet for my liking, but nothing is sweeter than ice cream for free.

At $14 for a small pizza plus a free scoop of ice cream, Picco easily feeds two for $10 each, including tax and tip. And the service was impeccable. I originally gave Picco 4 stars, and to this day, I can’t say why. At the end of the day, I’d pay any amount for a pizza this good, but these perfect, practically cheap-eat pizzas get five stars all the way.