Showing posts with label vlora. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vlora. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Still Voracious at Vlora UPDATE – Boston


For the first time, I understand Vlora’s location across the street from Trinity Church. The inspiration for this Mediterranean mecca is nothing short of divine. My second of what will soon be many pilgrimages to Vlora was all I’d hoped for and more…

Every church holds a holy figure, and Vlora houses Aldo, the executive chef. Aldo's food is as amazing as his personality - he's as sweet as the Kompekai. I told him that my friend had a complaint about the beef kebab from his previous visit, and he sat down with genuine concern to ask for specifics. Let’s just say that our concerns were proven unfounded, thanks to our heavenly meal.

If your sweet tooth is as potent as mine, do as I did, and start with the Upside-Down Pineapple Cake Martini - your excuse to have dessert before dinner. It goes down as smoothly as its namesake cake. The bartender mixed another crazy concoction for my friend, and though I don’t remember its name, I’ll never forget how good it tasted. I’d come back just for the drinks.

We had a delightful display of appetizers, including the Watermelon with Feta. Impossibly light, ravishingly refreshing, and a shockingly scrumptious combination with a splatter of balsamic. Forget ice cream, this is the ultimate hot, dry Mediterranean summer treat.



The garlic yogurt was particularly noteworthy. The love-child of tzatziki and alioli, I initially neglected it because I expected glorified sour cream. One dip shut my mouth pretty fast…The kick of garlic made it so exceptional that I refused to let them take it away when I finished my appetizer plate. And as an anti-sauce person, I’m embarrassed to confess, we dipped everything into it, especially the sweetly roasted but still firm Pan Roasted Zucchini. These two were made for each other…like Sonny and Cher…pre-divorce…I think we also had the Yogurt Pie. Crispy “crust” with a creamy but not-too-much filling. And I dipped it in the garlic yogurt too because clearly, it lacked yogurt.

My dining companion had previously described the Beef Kebab as “like it had been frozen - mushy, not succulent, and drenched in barbecue sauce”. He gave it another try, and Aldo made him eat his words…literally. I confirmed that multiple times throughout this meal. And I needed all 5 bites to make sure... that’s what I told him anyway…


The Psaropita was ridiculous. No other way to describe haddock snuggled into flaky phyllo. Couldn’t taste the mint in the sauce, but the tomato was light and enhanced the undeniably fresh fish. The feta was the glue that held the couscous together, and it added an unprecedented richness to a usually light accompaniment.



The Kompekai remains the best dessert at Vlora IMHO, so order this…or else...This time, we were treated to the Crème Brulee, which was standard, but we all know my standards…And believe me, this creamy goodness topped with a lightly charred layer of crisp sugar bore my standards as well as any Roman legion. I’m going back to the Kompekai next time, but if you have a nut allergy, keep the crème in mind.

Unlike 224 Boston Street, Vlora held its ground. On my stringent rating scale, Vlora keeps all 5 stars, and believe me, I’ll be back to confirm that a few more times.

With my dwindling med student budget, it’s rare that I return to a restaurant that isn’t Toro, but Vlora solidly holds its own. Aldo is a master chef who doles out delicacies, and the bar brews drinks that taste like candy and go down as smoothly as the ice that they were mixed in. Last time I visited Vlora, I came away with the conclusion that it’s the perfect reprieve from a hot summer day. That opinion no longer stands. I now believe that Vlora is the place to be every day, of every year.   

Friday, December 30, 2011

Voracious at Vlora – Boston



The Mediterranean climate consists of hot dry summers, and so does Boston. When I (or Mediterranean people) want to escape the stifling heat, Vlora is the first place I’d head to.  Heat rises and is sure to have dissipated from this garden-level establishment long before your arrival, and the sheltered dining room provides ample reprieve from the tourists trekking along bustling Boylston and pilgrims reaching the promised land of Trinity Church.



If you’re dying of heat stroke and can’t bear the thought of something hot, cheesy, and fried, the Arancini Siciliani is not for you. Turns out, on the winter day I ventured to Vlora, it wasn’t for me either. The rice was a bit mushy, the tomato sauce tasted canned, and I couldn’t taste anything resembling mushroom or mint sauce, but the feta saved the dish. My advice: skip the appetizer, cut to the chase with entrees, and save some room for dessert.



The beef tenderloin is probably the best I’ve ever had. NY strip at the Palm, dry-aged kona at Capital Grille, porterhouse at Harry’s NYC are practically even with the Mediterranean Kebabs. I took a bite and chewed. And chewed. And chewed. The tender, flame-kissed beef was pretty pink and juicy underneath. I swear I chewed each bite 10 times, and the savory juice never stopped flowing. The rice pilaf was a tasty complement, and the veggies were a nice refresher, but it really was all about the meat.



If the cloying atmosphere of Newberry Street on a summer day has made you unable to stomach anything but water or the thought of a slab of beef makes your stomach churn, the light but filling Vegetarian Pasta di Aldo is solid fuel for shopping. The veggies are crispily cooked, the wide noodles are absolutely al dente, and the fresh arugula creates a biting breath of fresh air in a stale, overheated BCBG store during a half-off sale.



There is no way your entrees will leave you unsatisfied, but leave room for dessert because the Kompekai is unbelievable. Don’t be fooled by the unappetizing appearance of this pistachio bread pudding – my cell phone camera hardly crafts a correlation between how things look and how they actually taste. The moist, decadent bread pudding is lightened by the nutty flavor, and the crème anglaise adds just the right amount of sweetness.

It is really saying something when a restaurant actually forces me to give it 5 stars. I originally didn’t want to give this place 5 stars due to the simplicity of the food, but in this case, sweet simplicity is a Mediterranean trademark, and the food, however simple, had its own flourish within cuisine-imposed limits, and it was so perfectly made I couldn’t even begrudge it half a star.

Studies have shown that people live longer on the Mediterranean diet. IMO, they must have used a study population of people who didn’t have teeth. You’d have to remove my teeth to keep me from eating my fill of Vlora’s perfect kebob, and you’d have to remove my feet to keep me from coming back.