Durgin Park, Boston MA

For my very last meal in Boston I took a chance on Durgin Park; sure its location, reputation, and fame screamed “tourism” but then again how could a space in operation since 1827 not be? With a sign reading “Established before you were born” and street performers, kiosks, and crowds dominating the exterior I will admit my skepticism on approaching the only restaurant my mother remembered visiting in Boston 30+ years prior but something told me to press on if only for nostalgia factor.



With my plane leaving at 8:05pm my arrival at Durgin Park would occur between lunch and dinner and while the streets outside were bustling the restaurant itself would prove largely uninhabited. Greeted first by a man at the bar and then by a hostess in a long Quaker-style dress I was given the option of sitting indoors or on the patio and although the weather was gorgeous the loud crowds outside and desire to see the aged interior led me to choose the upstairs indoor dining room – an area that would turn out to be completely empty throughout the duration of my seventy minute visit save for the cooks and servers arriving and preparing for dinner service.



Seated at one of the myriad long communal tables near the open windows with ceiling fans churning overhead I browsed the heavily wooden and tile room for a bit before my server, a nice young woman named Shively approached with a pitcher of water and the restaurant menu. Expecting the gruff attitude some say that Durgin Park encourages from their servers I’ll note that I received no such behavior but rather smiles and “you’re welcomes” throughout the meal and with the full pitcher of water left on the table refills were never an issue. With the menu filled with “traditional New England-style” options and a focus on that which is broiled, boiled, or fried accompanied by side dishes largely reserved for Thanksgiving dinner in the Midwest I weighed my options for a bit before making my decisions – an order declared “all the classics – good choice” by Shively.



With the restaurant reportedly functioning with “one chef and only a couple servers” due to my time of arrival I was told it would take “about half an hour” to put my order together but with plenty of time before my plane was to arrive I had time to waste and set to reading the extensive beer list and a small book about Durgin Park’s history while I waited. Expecting the whole order to take thirty minutes I was surprised when Shively returned with my first course less than ten minutes later; Clam Chowder with Oyster Crackers and Corn Bread with a pat of butter. Beginning first with the cornbread – nice firmness and a touch of sweetness, plenty toothsome but unfortunately a bit dry even with added butter. Moving on to the chowder – definitely a step in the right direction and much more as I’d expected from the clam chowder in New England – thick, creamy, loaded with potatoes and clams – but unfortunately just a bit too bland, a situation I remedied by adding the salty oyster crackers which definitely helped.



Moving on to my main course which would indeed arrive approximately thirty minutes after I placed my order, Baked Boston Schrod with seasoned Breadcrumbs, Boston Baked Beans, and Butternut Squash was two hits and one epic failure. Beginning first with the miss – the butternut squash – a soupy unseasoned mess that I can only imagine being palatable to babies; it honestly tasted like chunky water and had someone in the kitchen tasted it I cannot imagine this dish being sent out. Moving on to bigger and better, first off were the beans served in a small bowl and bursting with flavor. Soft without being mushy, fibrous without being chewy, sweet while still savory, and all with a light undertone of pork filling the palate. Last but not least, the Schrod with seasoned breadcrumbs reminded me strongly of the battered Yellow Perch my grandmother used to make during summers back in Ohio – flavorful and light, flaky and delicate, and great alone but better with ketchup.



With the schrod all gone and my feelings about the squash noted by the still full bowl dessert would arrive quickly on the heels of my main course. Ordered at the start of the meal as to avoid delays and essentially the impetus for my visit in the first place, “Indian Pudding” would appear in a bowl much larger than anticipated and as a fan of bread pudding, pudding in general, polenta, cornbread, maple syrup, and cinnamon the dish really had no chance to fail. Steaming hot and absolutely slathered with quickly melting vanilla ice cream this was exactly the sort of dish I’d hoped for – a dish that could double as breakfast, dessert, or a side dish with minimal difficulty and absolutely loaded with texture, nuance, and sweetness; sure it isn’t going to win praise as the most attractive or artistic dessert out there, but for me it just might have won out as the most utterly satisfying.



With the bill paid – an admittedly steep $40 after tax and tip – and more smiles and thanks from my server I made my way to the top of the stairs where the chef yelled to me from the kitchen to ask me how everything was. Responding that everything was good (I didn’t have it in me to complain about the squash after the Indian Pudding) he asked where I was from and stating “Ohio” he responded “yeah – ya ain’t going to find Indian Pudding there” and thanked me for coming in even though he didn’t have to; the thanks was mine to give for sending me home from Boston on such a fine note.

Rino's Place, Boston MA

For my very last 3/4 day in Boston my agenda finally had nothing to do with the conference but rather with seeing the New England Aquarium – the last remaining “Top 10” aquarium left on my United States list – and visiting some of Boston’s more touristy, famous, and well-known spots. With an early run and morning visit to Mike’s Pastry already completed by 6am and 8am respectively my arrival at the Aquarium would precede the opening of the doors and with small children and tour busses arriving only after I’d been there for more than two hours (seriously, the little blue penguin exhibit and central tank alone justify the cost of admission) the visit was one of the best in recent memory…and at this point the day had only just begun.



With logistics conveniently planned and with Droid-based Googlemaps in hand a quick walk from the aquarium to the Blue Line toward Wonderland would lead me to East Boston, a place some had told me to avoid, but a place that nonetheless contained a restaurant I didn’t feel I could afford to miss – a restaurant featuring Zagat food ratings on par with O-Ya at a bill less than 1/8 the price and a restaurant that was often known to sport 2+ hour lines at dinner despite its location – Rino’s Place.



With the Blue Line surprisingly efficient compared to the Green or the Silver and maps thankfully accurate my departure from the aquarium at 10:30 and a quick walk would have me at the doors of the 25 year old family owned red sauce joint just moments after the doors opened and aside from a small sign outdoors and a large poster of Guy Fieri within the “Place” was about as unassuming as it gets. Watching Food Network and similar programs rarely (if ever) and having never seen Fieri’s show that made Rino’s the phenom it has become I surprisingly entered the small ~50 seat space with only one other couple already present and after being encouraged to sit wherever I like I was presented with the menu, wine list, and a glass of water by my server – a tall bald fellow who knew everyone (and was likewise known by everyone) who entered the restaurant that afternoon except for myself.



Asked if this was my first visit I affirmed the suspicions to which I was bid “Welcome – the specials menu is gonna take a bit, but if you need anything just give me a holler – bread will be up in a minute” and with that I sat and relaxed at my white tableclothed table sipping my water and listening to the kitchen while the specials menu was hand-written in great detail. With windows to my left and a large mural to my right it would be a good twenty minutes before the menu was completed and in the interim I placed an order for an appetizer while the restaurant slowly filled to capacity.



With tip-top service throughout the afternoon and water that never reached less than half empty the specials menu took a bit of time to navigate but once my full order was placed it would be mere seconds before the meal would begin – first with a simple house salad topped with zippy house made Italian vinaigrette (the alternative option being an enormous helping of rigatoni with red sauce that could have easily served two, as was ordered by my neighbors who opted against waiting on the specials menu and had their full meal in front of them before the hand written menu was complete.)



With the salad relatively straight forward and now knowing the rumor of Rino’s portion sizes to be true I slowly ate some greens while reading The Globe’s sports page when a warm basket of sliced house made Italian Bread arrived along with packets of butter. Asked if I’d like “some gravy for dipping” I declined (once again, worried about portion sizes as I’d ordered three different dishes) and with a pat of Land O’ Lakes Whipped Butter as the alternative condiment I will note that although slightly sweet with an ample crunch this is the sort of bread that is made for dipping – not that it was bad, but more that it was a sort of dense carbohydrate sponge that would prove useful as subsequent plates arrived.



Ordering half portions in order to maximize tasting while saving stomach capacity, my first dish to arrive would be a $6 plate of gnocchi described as “homemade potato dumplings sauteed in a fresh plum tomato sauce and topped with fresh mozzarella and baked.” With the dumplings clearly handmade and so light they seemed ready to float off the plate and the blend of slightly sweet yet subtly spiced tomato sauce and creamy cheese providing just the right amount of flavor this “half” portion was easily two-fold the size of an average plate of restaurant gnocchi and served piping hot without suffering from the sogginess that maligns lesser preparations it was substantially better than most, as well.



With the gnocchi plate mopped clean with a slice of bread my next course would arrive with bread of its own and a flavor profile somewhat similar to the gnocchi, but a lot more spice. Titled simply “Tripe” and described minimally as slowly simmered in Fresh Plum Tomato Sauce served with Toast Points I was told that this was one of the “chef’s favorites” and at $6.50 for what was easily half a stomach it again proved vastly better than its price would dictate. Savory, light, rustic, and flecked with spicy notes of black pepper plus pecorino, garlic, and notes of cumin and paprika this was tripe done right and thankfully light despite the significant portion size.




Realizing at this point that three half-portions was enough that dessert probably was not in the cards and unable to resist wiping up the tripe sauce with the crunchy garlic bread my final course arrived steaming hot from the salamander oven and as good as the first two courses was it proved to be the best of the night – and amongst the best rustic Italian dishes my Midwestern palate has ever encountered. Described simply as “Layered Eggplant” and ordered largely on the word of my server who called it his favorite “non-meat” dish on the menu this half-eggplant arrived in three thick rounds pan seared to a supple consistency supported by a fried panko crust and sandwiched around whole roasted tomatoes, layers of fresh mozzarella “from a store just down the street,” and topped with a thick garlicky basil pesto sauce. To say the least it was delicious, to say more would just be hyperbole – if it is on the menu it is a MUST order and at $6 I have no idea how they’re making money on this dish.


Nearly bursting at the mere suggestion of dessert (especially with an early dinner planned before hopping on a plane back to Ohio) my server asked me if there was anything else I’d like and with the restaurant now full with a couple of parties waiting I thanked him and said no, just the check. Full and happy the bill did not hurt my mood with a total of $24 after a nearly 25% tip and thanked as though he didn’t expect such generosity I made my way to the street and back to the Blue line where I managed to avoid falling asleep en route back to Boston knowing that a walk around the Freedom Trail remained on my agenda. Thankful for the weather and even moreso that I’d made the decision to travel over to East Boston for lunch I can wholeheartedly recommend Rino’s Place and given the quality to price ratio I can even say that it might be worth the hour-long waits.

No. 9 Park, Boston MA

While many touristy stops such as Durgin Park, Mike’s Pastry, Pizzeria Regina, and Union Oyster House come to mind when thinking of the Boston dining landscape there is perhaps no other location (save for the currently closed Olives) as significant as Barbara Lynch’s No 9 Park in terms of putting Boston on the “fine dining” map. Sure fancier restaurants have entered the dining landscape in recent years (Including Lynch’s own Menton) and some suggest that the Beacon Hill location is not what it once was, but with Chef de Cuisine Patrick Campbell still serving many of the dishes that won Lynch attention from Food and Wine, the Beard Awards, and countless other publications en route to beginning her empire I thought the old townhouse would prove a fitting close to my first exploration of Boston’s world of haute cuisine.

With reservations made well in advance and a request for a table with adequate lighting having heard that the space could become considerably dim I approached the unassuming building at 9 Park Street mere moments before my 7:00pm reservation and with the Bruins first NHL Finals game in nearly twenty years about to begin the city was electric. Entering the small doors and greeted by a friendly young man at the podium I was told it would be a few moments before my table was ready and asked if I’d like to take a seat in the lounge while I waited. Never really a fan of this tactic as I could see a few open tables to my right (including the one I’d be sat at fifteen minutes later) I consented to the request and after declining cocktails twice and having my water knocked over by a tipsy elderly gentleman I was finally rescued from purgatory and shown to my table hoping that the night would improve substantially from here on out.

Making my way through the low ceilinged room the noise from the bar quickly dissipated and with deep wooden floors and ancient crystal chandeliers above I suddenly understood the comments about the lighting and realized there really was not a seat with “good lighting” save for those nearest the large windows looking out into the street – the two-top of which would be mine for the evening. With padded wooden chairs, thick double linen tablecloths, crystal, and silver the room was one that felt formal without being stuffy and old without being dull. Greeted soon by the sommelier I was offered a wine and cocktail menu which I perused but declined and moments later I met Matthew – a young charismatic server who would provide not only great service throughout the evening, but also interesting stories of the restaurant and substantial knowledge of the menu.

Having acknowledged my interest in some of Lynch’s classics I will note here that the menu at No 9 Park is not exactly the most intrinsic in that there are two options – a tasting or a prix fixe, but for the tasting two of Lynch’s “classics” as well as cheese come at an additional supplemental charge of $15 each. Never one to skimp and finding the night’s tasting quite favorable save for the main course of beef it was without question that I was allowed a substitution of the main and opting for the full tasting with all three supplements the night began quickly without an amuse, but instead with the first of many warm house made Buttermilk Biscuits with creamy unsalted butter.

Beginning the tasting my first menu course would arrive and while I personally feel it would have been better suited as an amuse it would not have been very good either way. Titled “Striped Bass Crudo with fava beans, green garlic, crème fraiche” this two-part presentation featured a tasty ceviche at the left and a terrible tartare to the right – flavors so dissimilar I actually found it hard to believe they came from the same fish. Beginning first with the crudo, the bass was clean, smooth, and nicely matched to its accoutrements while the tartare tasted fishy, nearly “pickled,” and downright sour from the crème fraiche. Not wanting to judge too quickly I will note that when Matthew returned to find 3/4 of the tartare still on the plate his inquiry as to whether I enjoyed the course was answered honestly (and apparently reported as such to the chef.)

Moving on to bigger and better things, course two would be more of what I expected from a restaurant so highly regarded and once again it would arrive as a duo on a single plate. Titled “Dayboat Sea Scallop with potato mille feuille, chanterelles, baby leeks, and mushroom puree this clever dish featured a beautiful caramelized scallop to the right and to the left an equally attractive round of creamy potatoes that looked nearly identical. Pairing each with savory leeks and woodsy mushrooms I really enjoyed this dish and in all my times fine dining I have never seen this playful trick before.

For my next dish I was served an ingredient I don’t traditionally fancy that was prepared so well that it didn’t even matter. Given the option to swap this course when I asked for a different main course in place of the beef my decision to keep Stinging Nettle Gnudi with ricotta, smoked veal belly, and sage was based largely on Lynch’s roots in Italian cooking and thankfully while the veal was a mere undertone the five creamy orbs of Gnudi were immensely flavorful with notes of sage, smoke, and salinity all in perfect balance.

Beginning the supplemental dishes it seems crazy to me that one should have to “add” the restaurant’s most famous dish and it seems even crazier that one would ever consider not doing so. Ordered with all intent to pay the $15 surcharge but instead served “on the house” due to my displeasure with the bass “Prune stuffed Gnocchi with foie gras, almond, and vin santo” was the perfect marriage of two of my very favorite foods and the sort of dish where although the portion size was ample I could have easily eaten it all night. On one hand intensely sweet from the potato dumplings wrapped around prune preserves and on the other smooth and savory with a gossamer finish from the liver the true brilliance of this dish was actually the vin santo sauce bringing both together while bits of crunchy almond added texture.

Not to be outdone by the gnocchi, my second supplement was an absolute steal for a mere $15 as it featured an easily 3-4oz slice of pan seared Hudson Valley Foie gras perched atop “baked fig en croute” and alongside dollops of pistachio puree and drizzles of reduced port. Clearly intended to be served as a one-two punch with the gnocchi this dish was every bit as delicious but nearly the exact opposite in texture with the liver more firmly cooked and the figs still fibrous in their skins beneath the flaky pastry shell. Less reliant on the sauces for balance than were the gnocchi I will note that while I enjoy foie gras paired sweetly the port was almost too much in this preparation while the pistachio puree was creamy, subtle, and restrained.

Continuing the hit parade with another of my favorite ingredients, “Native farm egg with house made sausage, spinach, and truffle brodo” was essentially a soup or broth that I’d have normally expected earlier in the menu but given the heft of its ingredients it also served as an appropriate sixth course. Arriving as three overlapping rounds topped with shaved summer truffles tableside this hearty amalgam first featured a disc of cooked spinach topped with a creamy golden egg, and finally by a pan seared slice of crispy sausage. Running the gamut from vegetal to creamy to savory to earthy this was a well crafted dish even with the truffles less aromatic than optimal.

For my final course in place of the beef I was served, by request, Peking Duck Breast with confit leg, baby root vegetables, chestnut puree and sour cherry. Having gotten somewhat used to the complex flavors of aged duck breast during recent dining experiences (namely Paris and the night prior at L’Espalier) this fresh preparation was surprisingly tasty and although a bit “chewy” the skin was immaculate and crisp thanks to what I was told was a few hours of brining in soy, sugar, and Chinese Five-spice. Moving past the breast to the molten confit and the sweet/savory balance of accoutrements on the plate I really liked the way each ingredient seemed to pull a different flavor from the duck – particularly the cherries which highlighted notes of cinnamon and clove in the crispy skin.

With the cheese cart arriving tableside next I will fully admit I was stunned by Matthew’s knowledge of the selections as most servers Stateside can barely pronounce the cheese let alone describe its province, notes, and their personal opinions on it. Again suggested as “on the house – Chef Campbell feels bad that you did not enjoy the bass” each cheese was described at length and after some debate I opted to allow Matthew to choose and as such was served Monte da Vinha, Tomme de Chevre au Muscadet, and a phenomenal Cow’s milk cheese titled Dom Villas from Portugal with notes of grass and spice enrobed in a silky texture and a rind with crystallized bits. Served with the cheeses were a plate of accoutrements described as honeycomb crunch, grapes, hazelnuts, wheat toast, and peanut butter apricot fig terrine – the latter of which was spread on a buttermilk biscuit to great effect.

Moving on to desserts I can only say that it is rare for me to be impressed by savories and let down by sweets but that is exactly what happened at No. 9 Park. Arriving first and declared a palate cleanser Cherry Soda with Shiso foam was precisely as described – a bit bubbly, plenty tart, but no better than the cherry limeade at Sonic (at least so far as my memory of 5-6 years ago serves me.)

Arriving quickly on the heels of the palate cleanser, “Native Strawberries with Saffron, Vanilla, and Lychee” would definitely prove more interesting than the cleanser with the strawberries served in three forms – frozen, cooked, and raw – beneath a gelatin infused with saffron and a dollop of vanilla cream smoothing out the citric punch of lychee sorbet. Tasty and interesting I cannot say this was a bad dessert, nor a boring one, it just wasn’t my style and it was far too similar to the Soda and Shiso in citrus/berry composition to serve an ample closing to an otherwise well designed and diverse menu.

With a table of lawyers behind me checking the Bruins score frequently and the local team winning in a landslide I sat and finished my water while debating coffee until Matthew arrived with my check and some mignardises – a Raspberry gelee on shortbread and a chocolate mousse with chocolate ganache that saved the day for those of us who prefer our desserts laden with cocoa, caramel, or nuts. Requesting a menu and paying the bill I thanked Matthew for the excellent service and en route to the hostess stand to gather my bag I was met by Chef Campbell who wanted to “personally apologize for the tartare – I think we may have gotten a bit of tail meat in a couple the servings tonight” – a very nice gesture that although totally unnecessary was a classy touch.

With bag collected and a cab easily hailed within seconds the drive back to my hotel was a long one due to traffic leaving the Garden but with windows down and a cabby born and raised in the area the scene and conversation were lively and memorable and having heard where I’d just dined my driver informed me that No. 9 Park was the very place he and his wife had celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary 8 years prior. Asking me if they should go back for their tenth I hedged my bets and said it was certainly worth considering both for the nostalgia and the food to which he asked “Do they still have that gnocchi? Its one of the best things I’ve ever had!”

Eastern Standard Kitchen, Boston MA

When I arrived in Boston my Monday lunch had originally been unscheduled; on one hand I figured I’d be getting a bit worn down by the conference by that point but at the same time I did not want to marry myself to anything specific in the event that I was not...at least that was the plan until I ate at Island Creek Oyster Bar two days prior and walked by their sister restaurant Eastern Standard en route to Fenway the same day. Having already heard about Eastern Standard from locals and duly impressed by Owner/Chef (and L’Espalier trained) Jeremy Sewall’s approach at ICOB I checked out the menu and called to make reservations along with a “if possible” request that would turn out to be quite possible.

With the best lectures of the day largely pooled in the morning hours and Eastern Standard featuring lunch, dinner, and “mid-day” seatings (and menus) I scheduled my reservation at the very end of lunch and arriving at 2:20 I was right on time. With the restaurant 95% empty save for a couple at the bar and a few folks on the patio when I arrived I was greeted first by a pair of hostesses (who would actually be interviewing new wait staff during my visit) and told I could sit anywhere I liked. Opting for a table near the patio but protected from the sun I was seated at a nice marble two-top table with vintage leather chairs and next visited by Ksenia, my omnipresent server, who would present the lunch menu and descriptions of the daily specials, charcuterie, and soup.

Wanting to sample broadly from the eclectic menu and having already confirmed that my special request from the dinner menu could be accommodated at lunch I sat and decided for a few moments and after being told the stuffed dates were sold out my order was placed, water was filled, and I was left to soak in the nostalgic feel of the room and music while I waited watching folks walk by on Commonwealth. With Dean Martin overhead and a red vinyl couch and pictures of Marilyn Monroe to my right it would not be long before Ksenia would appear at my table with my first bites of Eastern Standard’s cuisine – a small plate with five half slices of Whole Wheat Sourdough and smooth unsalted butter. With fond memories still lingering of the impressive bread and butter at Island Creek I will merely note that this bread was a bit of a letdown only for that reason, otherwise it was serviceable table bread served warm and baked in house.

Opting for three appetizers as opposed to an appetizer and a main course my first dish to arrive from the kitchen was my request from the dinner menu and delivered hot with golden brioche “match sticks” Pan Seared Hudson Valley Foie Gras with Rhubarb and Fennel Cream was a very good preparation with sweet and savory holding one another in check while also each complimenting the delicate liver in entirely different ways. Ample in portion and equally in flavor I’ll note that while I personally would have benefitted from more of the golden brioche this is a minor quibble I have pretty much everywhere except places where it is replaced anew during the course of the dish.....and even then I really can’t say no to more brioche.

With the foie gras as good as hoped it would be a bit of a delay, perhaps 25 minutes of reading my conference books, before my second and third plates would arrive – one excellent, one not so much. Beginning first with the daily charcuterie plate with mustard, cornichons, and pickled onions the days selections on the bargain $14 board would be Coppa, Salami, Prosciutto, Duck Rillets, Lamb terrine with mint, and Veal tongue – all excellent examples, but particularly the rillets and the veal tongue which were both a bold balance of spices, salinity, and texture.

Having noted my disappointment with the accompanying dish I will note a caveat in that when I mentioned the issue – namely overcooked egg and undercooked sweetbreads – it was replaced immediately and not only was an apology offered, but the dish was comped as well…but unfortunately it still was not all that good. Titled Frisee aux Lardons with Hazelnuts, Sweetbreads, and Poached Egg this salad certainly had all the makings of a great dish, but unfortunately the gaminess of the sweetbreads when combined with too heavy a hand with the vinaigrette led to something muddled, heavy, and simply lacking the balance I’d hoped.

With my primary target of the afternoon being a dessert (even more so than the Foie Gras) my order was placed without need for a menu and when delivered I knew immediately that this would be one of the highlights of the trip. Described as “Butterscotch Bread Pudding with Praline Ice Cream and Salted Caramel” and delivered as a steaming hot square absolutely smothered with liquid caramel the only way to sum up this dish is with the Def Leppard lyric – “I’m hot, sticky sweet.” With the pudding thick and creamy, the caramel salty and smooth, and the ice cream retaining its temperature by clever placement atop a thick praline this was everything a pan-style bread pudding should be and one of the best I’ve ever tasted.

With caramel, foie gras, egg, pork, and sweetbreads now competing for stomach space my server arrived once again to ask me if there was anything else I’d like and joking that a nap would be nice I was cleverly oriented to the fact that Eastern Standard was attached to a hotel (something I’d have never guessed as it certainly does not feel like a “hotel restaurant”) and with the bill paid I thanked the team and made my way outdoors for a nice walk to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts to see the Chihuly exhibit. With my last dinner of the trip still to come I can without a doubt say that for a place marketing itself as a “kitchen” or “bar,” the food and service that Eastern Standard is offering is certainly more befitting of a proper restaurant and one well worth a visit for those traveling to Boston – especially for dessert.