Dining Out Boston

On Friday night, Ariel and I met in Downtown Crossing and began our trek to Orinoco, the South End's hot-shot Venezuelan restaurant, which as I mentioned previously, has been written up in the New York Times, Improper Bostonian, etc., etc.

Fast forward 45min. later: Ariel and I are drenched, darting from doorway to doorway in the South End, after a series of flash thunderstorms and some very loud, seemingly very close, cracks of lightning. I was terrified our quest for a flaky fried empanada would end with both of us equally crispy.

Around 6pm, we arrived at Orinoco, which was unsurprisingly, nearly completely empty. A tatooed waitress quickly seated us at the window table and while Ariel retreated to the restroom to wring out her skirt, I perused the menu. Orinoco models itself after the traditional Venezuelan "taguarita", a small road-side cafe/restaurant, and I was looking forward to sampling something beyond the normal rice, beans, and plantains that I tend to associate with all South American menus. After agreeing to split a Palmito salad, we both chose main dishes purported to be national specialties.

Then, I made a grave error. I had purchased a bottle of Diet Coke earlier and as I was very thirsty and we had not yet been served any water, I casually removed it from my bag and took a small swig. I didn't, mind you, set the bottle on the table or make any other motion to indicate that I would continue drinking my outside beverage for the remainder of the meal. In a flash, the manager approached and said, in one of the more patronizing tones I've ever heard, "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to put that away. We don't allow that." I acquiesced as he continued to don a saccharine smile that was anything but sincere. The restaurant's policy was understandable; the manner in which it was communicated was unacceptable, for needless to say, no one needs to be scolded like a small child when she is about to spend a considerable amount of money on a meal.

From that point, things just became more confusing. Ariel ordered a cup of English breakfast tea, and because there wasn't any, the waitress assumed she'd like Earl Gray, which Ariel actually vigorously hates. Thus, she was compelled to apologize for her aversion to Earl Gray and ask if they had any other tea, another awkward moment which could have been avoided had the waitress simply given us a full run-down of all the available options when Ariel made the initial order.

We didn't wait long for our food, although I'm not sure this is deserving of particular commendation because there were so few patrons and most of the staff were literally standing around. The Palmito salad was fantastic: greens with endives in a light vinaigrette and a smattering of bacon-wrapped dates, which exploded in my mouth with salty-sweetness that livened up the bitter greens.

And then more confusion. I was and still am fairly certain I ordered the Polvorosa de Pollo ($13), chicken wrapped in a flaky dough served with mixed greens, but the waitress served me the Pabellon Criollo ($13). I resisted the urge to wail, "But, but…I wanted the chicken in dough thing!" and dug in to the shredded beef with white rice, black beans, and plantains. In the end, it was probably no loss on my part, for the Pabellon Criollo was very good. The sticky, buttery plantains and the spiced beef made up for the bland beans and rice, which looked and tasted far from fresh. Paltry portions did leave me satisfied, if only because I had cosumed such dense carbohydrates, but I questioned whether the unimaginative pairings were worth 13 dollars.

Aside those few dining snafus, I was relatively pleased with my meal at Orinoco. I wouldn't, however, say I was impressed, nor would I sing its praises to my friends, or say, millions of readers as did the Times. Diners should stick to the salads and arepas (corn pocket sandwiches) and shun the overpriced, underwhelming mains. And, of course, ditch that bottle of Diet Coke before you sit down, lest you too receive an unappetizing lecture.

The Info
Orinoco
277 Shawmut Ave., Boston
www.orinocokitchen.com

Greetings Foodies,

Pardon my recent delinquency in posting. I was on a "vacation" from posting, and by vacation I mean period of intense work for my day job.

I'm back and I promise promise to be better at dining out in boston. It's the least I can do for abandoning y'all for corporate America.

Tonight, I'm going to Orinoco with Ariel. Orinoco has been fawned over by nearly every major Boston publication, not to mention the New York Times. Let's see if I'm equally entranced.

This review is long overdue, considering Bunches has been waiting tables at Croma for more than a month and I have been pledging just as long to visit him at work.

The old Croma burned down 18 months after its orginal opening and a new version rose from the ashes like a pizza-obsessed Phoenix. New Croma installed a grill and widened their menu options to include serious entrees like Filet Mignon and cutesy panini. Bunches also tells me to stay tuned for further expansion of the downstairs lounge, which may soon offer bottle service and private areas.

On Sunday I half-watched the World Cup final on one of Croma's two flat-screen TVs and alternately munched two of their Neapolitan pizzas, the Cinqe Formaggi (five-cheese) and the Parma (shaved parmesan, proscuitto, olives, arugula). The Cinque Formaggi didn't stand out as anything spectacular and I swear I only counted three cheeses. The playful Parma, however, was much more fun. I liked the contrast of thick mozzarella with cool, light argula, and relished the generous serving of lean proscuitto. Bunches sipped an artful Double Shot Espresso Martini and I, still recovering from a previous nocturnal excursion, nursed a leggy Petit Syrah.

I'd like to sample some of Croma's more unorthodox pizzas, like the Cheeseburger or Chicken Tandoori, although the chicken and avocado panini is rumored to be fantastic.

The patio at Croma is the place to be on sunny Saturdays, so expect a 30-45min. wait. I recommend warm weekday evenings, especially Mondays when half-price pizzas and discounted drinks are served during trivia.

The Info
Croma
269 Newbury St., Boston
www.cromaboston.com

The Quincy Posse is breaking up. We've known for a while that Feng was heading to Mountainview, CA in August to apply her surfing skills, but suddenly Genevieve too is moving to the Sunshine State to work in cosumer insight for a wine company.

On Saturday night, we gathered for a send-off dinner at Rendezvous in Central Square, a New American restaurant fittingly housed in a former Burger King. Rendezvous has received multiple accolades during its short tenure, and we were all eager to be impressed.

At first, I was, given that I was graciously seated at our table and offered water and wine, despite being ten minutes early for the reservation. Our freckled server in a pink polo shirt reminded me of the camp counselor I never had (sleeping away from home severely worried me as a child; ironic, now), and once everyone was seated she took our orders and brought a crock of soft delicious sour-dough bread to our table.

We so wrapped up in discussing fantastical trips to visit Genevieve in Napa Valley that no one noticed that twenty minutes went by without our appetizers. After 15 more, we were still chatty but very hungry and the crock of bread had been filled and emptied twice. Our waitress apologized the delay, citing a "back-up in the kitchen." She was appropriately contrite, but her strained tone of voice indicated to me that she was less than pleased about apologizing for some other person's mistake.

My Cucumber-Yogurt Soup ($9) was a cool, textured liquid of pureed cumber and radishes, with some hints of mint. The generous serving justified the price, and I happily sopped up the creamy remains with some sour-dough bread. Genevieve and Rachel's Spring Vegetable Antipasto ($11) was presented gorgeously, the delicate colors of baby carrots, onions, and radishes contrasting nicely with the stark white dish and the darker eggplant puree.

The entrees arrived quickly after that; so quickly that the server didn't even have time to clear our appetizer dishes, which made for some awkward shuffling with the main dishes. I was slightly disappointed with the Roast Leg of Lamb ($23), which though cooked a perfect medium rare, suffered from a dryness that was only barely alleviated by the dollop of harissa, a Tunisian sacue made from peppers and tomatoes. The bed of yellow couscous and grilled eggplant were divine and unfortunately just underscored the underwhelming lamb.

Rachel seemed more pleased with her Swiss Chard Dolmas ($18), drizzled with a pine nut sauce and accompanied with beets and baby carrots.

I give points to Rendezvous for not bothering us while we lingered nearly an hour after paying our bill and retold our favorite college tales. I also admire the general ingenuity of the place, with its electic local artwork, fresh, unpretentious menu, and silverware wrapped in dishclothes. The lamb needs to be refined and there's some issues with food-running, but there's no reason to think Rendezvous won't live up to its expectations.

The Info
Rendezvous in Central Square
502 Massachusetts Ave., Cambridge
www.rendezvouscentralsquare.com

On days when C-line trains are few and far between, I go home "backwards" and take the D-line to Brookline Village. Then, I inevitably pass Baja Betty's and wonder whether all those online reviews citing their mediocre burritos are just Anna's Taqueria zealots.

Yesterday, I indulged my curiosity, purchasing a Watsonville ($6.90), a "smaller" version of the apparently massive California ($7.85). The kindly bearded server listed chicken, steak, spicy pork, green beans, and squash as my choice of fillings; I gave two nods to the chicken and squash.

Baja Betty's burritos are not the tightly wrapped, grilled torpedoes you find at Boca Grande or Anna's, but rather loosely rolled logs of rice, beans, fillings, guacamole, sour cream, and sprinkling of cheese. The warm, fleshy chicken melted the cheese and sour cream such that they became a salty, creamy coating for the rice and beans and the chunky guacamole provided some welcome color. Halfway through my meal, my face was covered with stray grains of rice and strings of squash. These burritos are a wonderful meal to eat by yourself, but less ideal for a cheap second-date dinner.

Healthful burrito alternatives and fillings like whole-wheat tortillas ($.25 extra) or fat-free yogurt are consistent with Baja Betty's "California Mexican" theme. I appreciate also that my request for a few tortilla chips was granted with no extra charge. And, while I won't claim that Baja Betty's even approaches the consistent quality of Anna's, I do assert that their burritos, like the D-line, are a fine alternative.

The Info
Baja Betty's Burritos
3 Harvard Square, Brookline Village
www.bajabettys.com

Inman Square newcomer Atwood's Tavern is well on its way to becoming a neighborhood favorite. The cozy bar and restaurant, with dark wood paneling and exposed brick, is English pub meets New York loft…and it works.

Although it's a bit of trek for non-Cambridge residents, Atwood's is a good fit for those looking for a local haunt that doesn't empty your wallet of all its twenties. The laid-back atmosphere belies the seriousness with which the owners approach good pub grub, for while the standard starters, burgers, sandwiches are all on them menu, more thought-provoking entrees also make an appearance.

My friends and I started with some illicit beverages ($4-5): Original Sin Cider for the ladies and Harpoon (with floating blueberries) for the gentlemen. The affable waiter seemed determined to have us not want for anything but also was dutifully concerned about rushing us. Midway through taking our orders the owner approached and updated everyone (waiter included) on the nightly specials, a much appreciated gesture.

As Ariel and I had been talking much of the afternoon about Provencal cooking, it seemed fitting that we start with the Cheese Plate ($8), a delicate array of hard and soft cheeses, green apple slices, fig spread, nuts, and sliced breads. After our walk in the gruesome heat, the thick cheeses and buttery nuts were refreshing and reviving when paired with the sweet figs and crisp, juicy apple slices. Dusty and Brian also praised their Chicken and Duck Quesadilla appetizer ($9), which arrived with a generous scoop of fresh guacamole.

In yet another example of good service, the waiter left the cheese plate, which held a smidgen of goat cheese and a few stray apple slices, while clearing the other appetizer plates in case Ariel or I wanted to nibble further during dinner. We all properly anticipated we'd be too full from starters to fully enjoy any of the grander mains like the Porterhouse Porkchop ($13) or the Linguine with Alfredo Sauce ($10), so the the crew ordered Bacon Cheeseburgers ($8.50) and I opted for the Tavern Meatloaf sandwich (served cold; $7.25). In addition to the expected lettuce tomato and onion, all sandwiches came with cute cornichons on the side. My browned fries were plump with fluffy potato and the dense meatloaf was thinly sliced and layered on a fresh roll. The sandwich was so good I almost regretted not ordering the entree version, but there's always next time.

After all that, there was little room for dessert, but those with an insatiable sweet tooth won't be disappointed at Atwood's, which offers homemade puddings ($4) and pies ($5) with Christina's Ice Cream, should the a la mode mood strike you. And, if you need more than conversation to entertain you while eating, live music is available Thursdays through Saturdays as well as a Team Pub Quiz on Wednesdays at 7:30pm.

The Info
Atwood's Tavern
877 Cambridge St., Cambridge
www.atwoodstavern.com

Jacob Wirth has received ample attention in the past few weeks, in part because of the Metro article detailing its rambunctious Wold Cup match parties. Indeed, when I called to make a reservation (completely unnecessary, I realized later) on early Friday afternoon for that evening, an Irish waitress shouted into the phone over the jubilant din that she'd have to put me on hold for a few minutes. Five minutes turned into ten, and I eventually hung up and called back after the game was over.

Jacob Wirth is so proud of their fine selection of domestic and imported brews that they offer many of them in the form of large, frosty pitchers ($6-22), which I think are best method of serving and consuming beer in the summertime or with a large group. Sometimes, however, it's just you and the boyfriend, but even then sharing a pitcher of Narragansett Lager ($16) works out pretty well too.

Three pint glasses of that and I felt little trepidation about trying Jacob Wirth's German fare. After slurring some greetings to a friend joining us for dinner, we moved from the tremendously long mahagony bar to the adjacent main dining area, where thick wooden tables are laid out in orderly cafeteria style. (More details on Jacob Wirth's storied interior can be found here. )

Those looking for standard pub grub, salads, and sandwiches are easily accommodated at Jacob Wirth, which offers Crispy Fried Chicken Fingers ($8), Bake Bried ($12), the standard burgers ($8.95-9.75) and salads ($6-13). Dinner entrees like Fish and Chips ($14) and Roasted ($16) are aslo available. The more expensive and more intriguing German specialities are worth trying although presentation tends to trump taste. My Wiener Schnitzel ($18) with Dill Spaetzle was fine, just fine, but nothing to knock your socks off. The lean veal cutlet had obviously been carefully pounded before it was breaded and pan fried, for the meat was extraordinarily tender. Unfortunately, the spaetzle failed to take on any real flavor from the dill, and the crinkly egg noodles remained soft and bland even when doused with a bit of thin lemon butter sauce. There's a reason why traditionally spaetzle are covered with melted sharply flavored cheese.

Bunches was a bit more enthusiastic about his German Mixed Grill ($16) with smoked bratwurst and weisswurst, sourkraut, and potato salad, which I'm supposing was the colorless mass supporting the plump lacerated sausages. (Weisswurst, in case you're wondering, is a Bavarian sausage with a thin casing that houses the calf meat and herbs, and is cooked by boiling in hot water.)

I'm sure many of you will disregard my lackluster review of Jacob Wirth and maybe you should. I certainly scoffed at other online reviewers whose criticism of Jack Wirth is extremely similar to my own. I wouldn't discount Jacob Wirth's potential as a top-notch spot to enjoy a lager while watching the game, but I question whether they're doing anything to dispel the stereotypes about German food.

The Info
Jacob Wirth
31-37 Stuart St., Boston

Finale seems very close to opening its third branch in Coolidge Corner. Each day more and more posters of blown-up cakes and mousses cover the windows, which indicates to me that there's finally something worth peeking at inside. I can already hear BC girls shrieking, "Ooohh, I LOVE FINALE!!!". I'm sure you do, you sugar-crazed twit, much in the same way you LOVE the red sox.

Well, I don't love Finale. I've sampled their goodies on numerous occasions as they were the desserterie of choice in college, probably because they were 10 times closer than any chain supermarket. Patronizing Finale was touted a bit as "helping your own", for the concept orginated with three Harvard Business School students. I'm sure few need convincing that HBS students are hardly an underserved population, but that's not why I don't go to Finale.

It's more about worlds colliding. Finale's mission, as described on their website, was to "be the Robin Hood of Dessert – making super-premium desserts available to everybody, not just to the affluent who frequent fine-dining restaurants and fancy hotels." An excellent idea in theory, not practice. First, the majority of Finale desserts are as expensive those offered in upper-tier restaurants, understandable given they're currently nearly comparable in quality, and thus require similar expensive ingredients. Second, in making their desserts "available to everybody", Finale effectively renders them common, therefore unalluring to rich and cultured, who will inevitably spurn that which can be acquired by just anyone.

Where does that mean for Finale? Nothing, right now. Three Boston locations hardly makes your business ubiquitious, but four, five, six….Expansion and mass production detract from quality, inventiveness, suprise, and everything else that probably made the very first Finale a success. Starbucks suffers from similar issues but continues to thrive because consuming coffee is desirable once or twice a day to most working adults. The greater diminishing utility of flourless chocolate cakes is obvious. Even when that special occasion comes around, I predict people will grow more uncomfortable stopping at Your Neighborhood Finale to pick a torte, as its very convenience erodes the value of the gesture.

So ends my rant on Finale. I have little to say on the current status of their cakes, cookies, and tarts; the ones I've tasted have been very good, but I prefer the confections at Stephanie's on Newbury or The Greenhouse in Cambridge or Teresa's Baked Good Graveyard in Brookline.

Those of you who subscribe to b.good's email list are already well aware of today's promotion, a free yet-to-be-named bacon burger from 5pm to 10pm at the Cambridge and Back Bay locations.

The burger (topped with a low-fat jalapeno-ranch sauce, lettuce, tomato, and onion) is faithful to b.good's commitment to serving "real" food made with healthful ingredients and cooked with minimal to no deep-frying, heavy battering, and other artery-clog inducing processes.

I've visited b.good a few times in the past, and I have been continually impressed that they are able to make healthy fries that don't taste like baked cotton. The burgers are decent, perfectly palatable if you're craving McDonald's but can't bring yourself to use up your weekly saturated fat quota.

I take issue, however, with identifying b. good's burgers as the "real", implying they are Genuine Article of beef patties of which we've all been deprived for a hundred-odd years. Anyone with two neurons knows a classic American hamburger will never satisfy any set of nutritional requirements. Eating a burger, like consuming all remarkable, sumptuous, mmm-mmm good fare, is not about oxidizing free radicals or fueling your climb to Kilimanjaro. It's about pleasure, the experience of incredible flavor, and a satisfied stomach. And, unfortunately, sometimes horrible indigestion.

Enough, already, I'm going to get my burger.

The Info
B. Good
131 Dartmouth St., Boston
24 Dunster St., Cambridge
www.bgood.com

The employment gods have decreed that Bunches and I only see each other for around 45 minutes during the work week, so naturally, we spend that time, you know…eating breakfast.

Today, it was Zaftig's my favored weekday breakfast spot due to its proximity to home and the green line. My order: Buttermilk Pancakes with Strawberries ($8). I'm sure none of you are shocked. See my previous post for details on these scrumptious circles of batter, which usually come with a far more generous serving of fruit than what you see below.

Fun Food Fact: The oldest pancake recipe written in English dates from the 15th century. (Wikipedia)