Feb. 27th, 2003 10:11 am
Warning: Food Geeking
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mizarchivist Reason: Matt and I went to a very swanky restaurant here in Boston to celebrate the Pennies From Heaven that we just got this week, thanks to H & R Block messing up our taxes a few years ago.
The Setting: Number 9 Park is within spitting distance of the State House and I go past it (a minimum of) twice a day to and from work. So, it seemed only right to finally check it out.
I'm tempted to do a comparison between No. 9, Les Halles in Manhattan (the last fancy place we went) and Maison Robert... but even I need to draw the line on geekery...
You walk in and you know you're in a seriously professional restaurant. The staff are attractive, slim, and look good in dress-casual. The place is hopping and I feel pleased and relieved I made a reservation. We get put at a small table along the wall- all the tables around the perimeter of the room are for 2... To my right are 2 old ladies with lots of money (hair styles and jewelry a dead give-away. To my left a middle-aged, balding man with his secretary (Mistress? Matt and I can't decide her status).
The food: Wow. Matt was brave and tried the tuna wrapped in potato for an appetizer (Matt really doesn't eat fish, but trusted the prep on this would be phenomenal) and I went whole hog and tried the fois gras. Both were, indeed, completely amazing. I'd never had more than a mouth full of f.g.- It was delicious, exceptionally decadent and just about melted in the mouth.
The wine the really really cute and very very gay waiter suggested is just about perfect with my venison. It has currants in the sauce. I think it is my first venison experience and tastes nothing like I've ever eaten before.
Matt has lobster with slivers of truffles on top. So, we make food-gasm faces for several minutes and before long it's already time for coffee and dessert
We consider going to Finale's new location in Harvard, but given how cold it is, we decide to do the whole experience- All the desserts look great, although not as varied at Finale's ... next time, right? I settle for chocolate banana tort (heavy on the banana) and Matt has the chocolate spoon.
Social commentary: We take the T into town, given it is Beacon Hill and I certainly don't want to try to find parking. On the way up to no. 9 from the T stop, we past the Paulist Center right as they let out evening services/ meeting and we pass dozens of folk who are homeless.
It takes Matt almost no time to realize that he has the longest hair in the restaurant, hands down, and that aside from the kitchen staff, he's probably the only one with callouses on his hands.
We can see why Ho Chi Minh chose communism after working in a swanky Boston restaurant in his youth.
And this isn't even the swankiest in town. We could have gone to a much more fancy restaurant and had clubbed baby seal cutlet with unicorn fois gras all braised in bald eagle gravy . . .
So, the book-end is we head back out and rub elbows with the unwashed masses on the T and collapse in a food buzz.
It was not our world. It was obvious that some folk were regulars, as opposed to we, the cultural tourists, but it was worth it.
The Setting: Number 9 Park is within spitting distance of the State House and I go past it (a minimum of) twice a day to and from work. So, it seemed only right to finally check it out.
I'm tempted to do a comparison between No. 9, Les Halles in Manhattan (the last fancy place we went) and Maison Robert... but even I need to draw the line on geekery...
You walk in and you know you're in a seriously professional restaurant. The staff are attractive, slim, and look good in dress-casual. The place is hopping and I feel pleased and relieved I made a reservation. We get put at a small table along the wall- all the tables around the perimeter of the room are for 2... To my right are 2 old ladies with lots of money (hair styles and jewelry a dead give-away. To my left a middle-aged, balding man with his secretary (Mistress? Matt and I can't decide her status).
The food: Wow. Matt was brave and tried the tuna wrapped in potato for an appetizer (Matt really doesn't eat fish, but trusted the prep on this would be phenomenal) and I went whole hog and tried the fois gras. Both were, indeed, completely amazing. I'd never had more than a mouth full of f.g.- It was delicious, exceptionally decadent and just about melted in the mouth.
The wine the really really cute and very very gay waiter suggested is just about perfect with my venison. It has currants in the sauce. I think it is my first venison experience and tastes nothing like I've ever eaten before.
Matt has lobster with slivers of truffles on top. So, we make food-gasm faces for several minutes and before long it's already time for coffee and dessert
We consider going to Finale's new location in Harvard, but given how cold it is, we decide to do the whole experience- All the desserts look great, although not as varied at Finale's ... next time, right? I settle for chocolate banana tort (heavy on the banana) and Matt has the chocolate spoon.
Social commentary: We take the T into town, given it is Beacon Hill and I certainly don't want to try to find parking. On the way up to no. 9 from the T stop, we past the Paulist Center right as they let out evening services/ meeting and we pass dozens of folk who are homeless.
It takes Matt almost no time to realize that he has the longest hair in the restaurant, hands down, and that aside from the kitchen staff, he's probably the only one with callouses on his hands.
We can see why Ho Chi Minh chose communism after working in a swanky Boston restaurant in his youth.
And this isn't even the swankiest in town. We could have gone to a much more fancy restaurant and had clubbed baby seal cutlet with unicorn fois gras all braised in bald eagle gravy . . .
So, the book-end is we head back out and rub elbows with the unwashed masses on the T and collapse in a food buzz.
It was not our world. It was obvious that some folk were regulars, as opposed to we, the cultural tourists, but it was worth it.
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