What Is All the Fuss About??

Holeman & Finch, that's what.

This restaurant has had so much buzz for so long that it actually started having the opposite effect on me. I thought it could not possible live up to the hype. And there was the issue with the wait. It is well-known that H&F does not take reservations. And those in the know talk about the wait as though it were some badge of honor. "One time I waited an hour and a half!" "We once waited for an hour and couldn't even get to the bar to order a drink." None of that appealed to me. I don't like to wait.

But we finally caved. (I finally got tired of my friend Brad's endless rants on the virtues of H&F and decided I had to experience it first hand.) We went on a Sunday for brunch. We got there early, or so I thought. Turns out, everyone else got there earlier. So we bravely put our name on the list and prepared to wait.

As I waited (and waited), I noticed something interesting about this tiny restaurant. Every 20something hipster and 50something foodie was there. Kind of an odd mix. And everyone seemed deliriously excited to be there. (Well, the 20something hipster don't really want to show that much excitement, but you could feel if under their unfazed, cool exterior.)

As the wait wore on (we waited an hour), I began to get impatient and then annoyed. But there was no turning back. We had waited too long to jump ship before we reached our goal (of being seated.) At one point, one of the very hip servers walked past me and said "Trust me, it's worth the wait." Somehow, that brightened my mood.

And a few minutes later, we were seated.

Was the server right? Was it worth the wait?

Hell yes! The okra and smoked red pepper appetizer lives on in my heart and I hope to be reunited with it some day. L's burger lived up to its reputation as the best in the city. The cocktails were a whole other area of expertise. I could actually do a whole post just on the cocktails. And the bacon. OMG! I didn't know bacon tasted like that. Everything we had was mouthwateringly delicious.

But what no one had told me, what we found most surprising, about H&F, something that really sets it apart, was how happy the staff was. We learned that not one employee has quit since the place opened. (And the restaurant biz is notorious for high turnover!) Our server (the aforementioned hipster) kept a picture of the burger as his phone's screen saver. He couldn't say enough good things about the food, the restaurant and his job.

Now I know what all the fuss is about. And I've become a convert. Blabbering on to everyone I meet about this great restaurant. And I'm dreaming about the next time I get to wait in line to eat at the exceptional H&F.

The Good, The Bad & The Worst Meal Ever!!

We just returned from a brief vacation in Curacao. It was an interesting island. At the end, L observed "Culinarly, Curacao is in junior high." I would say "stuck in the '70s." But you get the point.

There were a few highlights: the goat stew at Jaanchie's, the banana soup offered everywhere, and the very memorable lunch we had at Perla del Mar, a beautiful restaurant where sat on a deck with waves crashing below. (And La Carretta, the cuban place at the Miami airport was the best food of the entire trip!)

And then there was the worst. meal. ever.

We were in Curacao to celebrate our anniversary (six years of wedded bliss!) I arranged for a sitter for Saturday night. As usual, I spent alot of time and energy trying to find the right place. I settled on Bistro Le Clochard.

It got off to a good start. We were seated in a corner table on the deck, overlooking the ocean. It was dark and the water was pitch-black. The whole scene was very romantic. And at first glance, the restaurant was perfect. A memorable feast was sure to be imminent. But the first clue that things might not be what they seemed was the cocktail list. The drinks listed were things like a "side car," "yellow bird" (a drink w/ rum & galliano), an "old fashioned." Does anyone under 70 still drink these drinks?. Occasionally, a restaurant will have some old school cocktails and it's cool. It's done as a nod to the "Mad Men" era. But this was not done with a wink or a nod. It was clear to me that they had simply never updated their cocktail list.

And so we ordered an expensive bottle of champagne and some appetizers. The apps were good, but not great. Kind of weird. Rock lobster on a bed of kidney beans and escargot served with sauerkraut. For my entree, I was very excited about getting the Dover sole. Lee was equally exicted to try the veal goulash. But when we ordered, our waitress told us that neither were available. She then convinced us to try "La Potence" which she described as pieces of beef served on flaming hot skewers with several "delicious" dipping sauces. Because of the flame, this dish could only be served inside, but she promised to save our table outside for us to return to for dessert. The cost of this entree? $34 per person.

We fell for it.

Inside we went. And, in the light, the restaurant looked as outdated as the cocktail list. Fake ferns adorned the shelves and windowsills. The seat cushions were stained and frayed. the piano player doing a muzak version of Metallica was odd and cheesy. It was all sort of comical, actually.

But we went with it. I felt like I was in a 1970s made-for-tv movie or perhaps, an episode of the "Love Boat." Then they brought out the stupid meat. Yes, it was beef on skewers and yes, they set it aflame. But she neglected to mention the hotdogs on it. Yes, there were dipping sauces but they were far from delicious. No, the dipping sauces were ketchup, tartar sauce, thousand island dressing, and honey mustard. $34 per person? You have to be kidding me. (And just where were the 1970s prices? That was one area they managed to update.)

For some reason, I don't know why, maybe it was because we were in a time warp, we ate the stupid thing. We should have sent it back. However, when the waitress returned, I did not mince my words. I let her know exactly what I thought of that ridiculous meal. Did she offer a complimentary dessert? Did she comp any portion of the meal? No, she did not. When the $300+ bill arrived, my head exploded and everyone in the restaurant witnessed it.

L said we've had alot of hits and were bound to have a miss. This was surely a miss.

Boulevard at Home

I have to confess that I am a very lucky girl. The truth of the matter is that while going out to all these fancy restaurants is pretty awesome, the best dinners are actually the ones at home. The ones that L cooks. It just so happens that L does not just enjoy eating great food. He also enjoys cooking great food. And guess who benefits from his considerable talent?

Now, you may recall a particular dining experience we had a couple years ago that L proclaimed was a "top 5" meal ever. The restaurant was Boulevard in San Francisco. On that auspicious occasion, L smartly bought the restaurant's cookbook in the hopes of re-creating its fabulousness.

In the intervening two years, L hasn't cooked much out of the Boulevard cookbook. We have alot of cookbooks, and he's really been hung up on the impossible Thomas Keller cookbooks (books so complicated that I have difficulty even reading the recipes, let along cooking from them!) But a few weeks ago, L decided to drag out the Boulevard cookbook. In truth, the Boulevard cookbook is not much easier to use than the Keller cookbooks, but L is up to the challenge.

He spent the whole day preparing. The kitchen was abuzz with activity. I worked out, got hair cut and colored, took a nap, picked A from pre-school, fed A, bathed and put him to bed. All the while, L was busy chopping, cutting, basting, heating, saute-ing and other chef-related things.

Finally, at 9:00 pm afte nearly 12 hours of prep, I set the table on our rather fabulous back porch and we sat down to eat.

It was worth every second of work he put into it. The meal was a triumph! We had a filet set on a roasted tomato, beef au jus with a corn-jalapeno relish and a fried blue cheese fritter on top. On the side, we had cubed heirloom tomatoes with goat cheese. We washed it all down with a spectacular bottle of pinot.

Like I said earlier, L knows how to cook and have alot of good meals at home. But there was something special about this meal. It seemed more perfect than usual. L had clearly put his heart into it. Sitting on the back porch with soft lights and soft music, surrounded by trees didn't hurt either. L made the night a special one, a memorable one, even though it was just an ordinary Friday night. L told me once that he learned to cook to help him get girls. Well, that plan certainly worked with this particular girl. But, in the end, I undoubtedly am the lucky one.

Please Come to Boston....(and stay at the Liberty Hotel!)

Boston. It's a city full of history. The Boston Tea Party, the midnight ride of Paul Revere, the American Revolution. And most importantly, my life story, ages 0-28.

I took A there a few weeks ago to see family. I haven't actually lived there in many years, so now when I go, it's as a tourist. We stayed at the Liberty Hotel, former Charles Street jail, turned uber, and I mean UBER, swank hotel. I didn't even bother with my usual obsessive scouring of the interent looking for the best restaurants. The Liberty had 2 restaurants, with great-looking menus (and one celebrity chef.)

Truthfully, this trip wasn't about food (gasp!) It was about seeing old friends.

On Friday night, I met up with a bunch of friends at the Liberty Lobby bar (and later Clink) for drinks and dinner. Most of this group I've kept in touch with for all these years, except for 2, who I hadn't seen in over 17 years. It was a night filled with laughter, drinks, memories and black pasta (yumm!) The years have been kind to all of my old friends. They all seem to have happy, full lives. If that had been the only night I had Boston, it would've been a great weekend.

But, the real focus of the weekend, perhaps the reason I went up there was for Saturday night.

Back in high school, I had two best friends: Lauren & Guy. The three of us, so inseparable once, have not been all together in over 20 years. But (through the wonders of the internet), we got in touch and decided to put the band back together for one night only. (Well, maybe we'll do it again!)

I saved all the best places at the hotel for that night. We met at Alibi, the swank-est of the swank spots at the Liberty. Drinks were flowing, stories were shared, secrets exposed, and without missing a beat, we fell into the same rhythm from 20 years earlier. Guy would've been perfectly happy to stay at Alibi and drink mojitos all night long. But Lauren & I are small girls (both maintaining our high school weight, thankyouverymuch! And she's had 4 kids!!), we needed some food to absorb all that alcohol. So, after several drinks at Alibi, we wondered over to Scampo for dinner. Scampo is the restaurant with all the buzz at the Liberty. "A new take on Italian food" and all that jazz. The food was good. My steak was delicious. Velvety, cooked to medium-rare perfection. But this was definitely a night where everything else was so much more important and more interesting than the food. The food was eclipsed by the night.

But the night was oh-so memorable. So this post isn't about food or a great restaurant. It's about reliving old times and reacquainting with old friends and finding that, even after many years, nothing had changed at all. We could pick up right where we left off. Here's to my old friends: Lauren, who was the cutest girl in high school, is still the cutest girl in the room. Guy, my best friend, my brother, please don't lose me again. Here's to Boston, which will always be home no matter how far I stray. And here's to the Liberty Hotel, which was, for a few luxurious days, my home.

Old Friends & New Restaurants

Ahhh, New Orleans! How can one small city have so much good food, excess amounts of alcohol, ghosts, voodoo, and an abundance of quirkiness? In short, how can one city be so much damn fun??

We just returned from a quick weekend in New Orleans celebrating L's birthday. In planning our trip, we decided to do one "old school" NOLA meal and one more trendy meal. But there's so much to choose from that pinning down the right location for each was torture. After literally months of scouring the internet, and repeated emails seeking advice on this monumental decision to my very patient friends (& NOLA residents), I finally decided on Galatoire's for Friday lunch and Herbsaint for Saturday dinner.

Galatoire's, a 100 year old restaurant in the French Quarter, is known for its Friday lunch. The downstairs part of the restaurant famously does not accept lunch reservations (as opposed to the newer upstairs which accepts reservations but doesn't have the same cache as the downstairs). So, apparently, the locals start lining up at 10:00 am, some send their staff to wait in line for them. And, for those who wait in line, once they're in, they don't leave. They stay and drink until dinner (this custom is known as "Two-for.")

Although I had no intention of drinking until dinner, I really wanted to sit downstairs. But I was warned that "it gets pretty rowdy downstairs." Because we were lunching w/ my 4-year old A, and my friend Jen and her son, I made reservations for upstairs.

As soon as we walked into the restaurant, L immediately loved it. It was full of old world charm. The service was phenomenal. The staff were all dressed in white jackets and bow ties. They were discreet, respectful, helpful and detailed. I started with a Sazerac. Only in New Orleans can you even order this drink. To be honest, it wasn't for me, but I've never been a brown liquor drinker. We also had gumbo, escargot, crawfish etouffe - the staples of cajun cooking. Was it good? Of course, it was. Was it the best food I've ever had? No.

But we had a blast. Those restaurants are like stepping back in time. Suddenly, we were in a New Orleans that existed in the 1920s when people maintained a certain formality and civility that no longer exists. (A time also when children are better seen and not heard. This was definitely not A's most popular moment!)

Saturday night (the babysitter night), we went to Herbsaint with my very close friends Chris & Jen. L & I chose this restaurant because of its celebrity chef, appealing menu and bistro decor.

That day had been over 100 degrees, but the night was perfect. After a cocktail at the bar (a caipirhina for me and Pimm's Cups for Chris & Jen), we decided to sit outside. What a delightful restaurant Herbsaint proved to be. Every morsel of food was fantastic. My favorite thing was the heirloom tomatoes and burrata. But the spaghetti & guanciale appetizer was a very close second. And for entrees, I would say that Jen's braised lamb neck was the clear winner, followed by my duck confit.

As great as the restaurant was, the company was even better (and the restaurant gets kudos for knowing how to stay in the background as needed.) We hadn't seen Chris & Jen in over a year and, when they lived in Atlanta (9 years ago), they were my closest friends. So having the opportunity to eat at a great restaurant was nothing compared to spending time with my far greater friends.

My final assessment of these two restaurants: Galatoire's you do once. Herbsaint you return to.

BEST. MEAL. EVER.

Setting: Lisbon, Portugal
Restuarant: Gambrinus
Time: a beautiful night in April

It finally happened! We had the best. meal. ever. Not just the best meal, the best whole food/dining experience. I don't think it can be surpassed in my lifetime. It was was, in a word, perfect.

L, A, & I spent a glorious week in Lisbon earlier this month. We had many, many great dining experiences. I had heard that Lisbon was a great food town. Those reports were wrong: Lisbon is a fantastic food town!

I had arranged for a babysitter for two nightswhile in Lisbon. So, the restaurant choices we made for those two nights were particularly critical. In pre-trip research, the name Gambrinus appeared on every best restaurant list I found. As it happened, we stumbled upon it our second night in Lisbon and it was literally two minutes from our apartment.

So, for the first of our two adults-only nights, L made a reservations at the fabled Gambrinus. We were ushered to our seat the moment we arrived. The wait staff was comprised of handsome men in their 50s wearing black or red suitjackets. Seconds after we were seated, our head waiter (ultimately we had several) asked if we wuld like something from the bar. I immediately ordered a caipirihna (a drink I fell in love with in Portugal). Our waiter kindly shook his head and patiently said "No, I'm sorry, we don't serve those." I instantly realized that I had made a mistake! I had essentially ordered the equivalent of an umbrella drink in this old-school, formal establishment. Ofcourse, they didn't serve caipirihnas! I immediately said "Ok, well I'll just have whatever you think I should have." L nodded in agreement. Our waiter seemed pleased (thank god! for som reason, we felt the need to please him!) He then brought us each a glass of white port.

From that point on, we were like newborn infants to our bevy of waiters. They let us think that we were in charge, but really they were just humoring us. They were in charge. Not in a bad way. In a parental way. We were safe. We were taken care of. We were loved. We were also teased, flirted with (me, not L), and generally viewed as a source of amusement for our waiters.

Then the food started coming. First up, a piping hot skillet of shrimp and garlic. The shrimp tasted like it had been pulled from the sea moments earlier. It was simple and delicious. THen we shared a pasta course. Linguini with clams and tomatoes. Again, delicious. For out main course, we could not resist getting lobster. In making that decision, our waiter brought out two live lobsters, one large, one small. We opted to share the large. When it was cooked, he returned with it whole, showed it to us, and then delicately served it to us. He may as well have spoonfed us. (There was also a delightful bottle of red wine in there. Recommended by the waiter, of course.)

Before dessert, we were advised to have a glass of dark port. The waiter brought over an ancient looking bottle with some elaborate bottle-pouring contraption and poured the port in front of us. It was quite an elaborate show of old portuguese custom.

And then finally dessert. Crepes Suzette. Boy, was that a show! Our waiter brought over a mini gas stove top with a serving cart with things like a bowl with batter in it, a bottle of Gran Marnier and a bunch of other liquores. He then began pouring the batter and the liquor into a skillet. Flames that were two feet high leapt from the skillet. The comic side-kick waiter stood in mock terrorwith a fire extinguisher. The whole show was charming. The finished product was fantastic. Another simple, but delicious course.

We left that restaurant full, a little tipsy and $300 Euros poorer. And giggling like school children. It was worth every penny. I would gladly fork over the equivalent of a mortgage payment to dine there again. I miss my waiters. I miss the white port, the fabulous lobster, the sinful dessert. Oh, Gambrinus! Thank for an unforgettable night in Lisbon. Thank you for the best. meal. ever.