An excursion to Boston
Alex, Bernard and I recently got back from a long weekend in Boston. We had been once before and the boys were unimpressed. I was determined to prove them wrong. The trip started with a whimper. It was the 3rd day of the liquid ban on the airlines. Getting through security was the easy part. Getting our luggage at Logan was the hard part. Baggage claim resembles pigs at a trough...pushing and shoving. No announcements, no indication of what carousel our luggage would arrive on. Hundreds of people pushing and shoving.
We eventually got our luggage and the car. On to the hotel. I thought we were staying at an old favorite, the cobble Plaza, a stately hotel in the heart of the Back Bay. Bernard drove right past it. He booked us into Copley Place, a Westin hotel down the street. Apparently he didn't realize that Copley is as common a name in Boston as Daley is in Chicago. Oh well. We at least got a drink in the Oak Bar at the Copley Plaza.
On our last trip we had tried a few haute places and were unimpressed. This time we asked the concierge to book us into Blue Ginger, of Ming Tsai and the Food Network fame. We were all booked for Sunday night, until we called for directions and discovered that they were closed on Sundays. So much for the Concierge.
Next was Locke Ober, that ancient restaurant off Beacon Hill. It's been spiffed up a bit in the 20th century, but feels as though you've walked into a time warp. Service is very "Age of Innocence." All Victorian and Edwardian formality with enough silver plate to cause temporary blindness. Their old-fashioned famed lobster stew is a delight and a cholesterol nightmare. But if you're going to go, it's the way to do it. Other food there is less successful: the things that they tried to "modernize" just don't work. It's fussy, overly complex and insanely overpriced. Wine list is an expensive joke. We enjoyed going just to say we did, but were happy to leave.
However, two amazing finds. Jumbo Seafoodand The Butcher Shop.
First, Jumbo Seafood. A downright seedy spot in Boston's miniscule Chinatown. It's known as a late night chef hangout...they actually let you choose your fish/crustacean from the tanks in the front. They then fish it out, toss it into a metal pail and weigh it. We got there late on a Saturday night and were seated next to a large birthday party, feeling no pain: we were having much fun eavesdropping, as they were arguing at the top of their lungs in Chinese, and we couldn't understand a word. Now and then, we heard "Heineken," "Survivor", "asshole," but otherwise they were completely unintelligible. They were so loud and drunk that our overworked and harassed waitress kept bringing us food we hadn't ordered and muttering "no charge" as she flung it on the table. We think that they might have been friends of the waitress and she was embarrassed at their behavior. No worries, as the food was fingerlickin' good. So good we went back three days in a row. Fish. Fish. Fish. It's the only thing to order. Just point and wait. Then fall in love.
The Butcher Shop. A rainy day at lunchtime in South Boston. Formerly dangerous, now practically suburban and definitely yuppie. A small jewel. Very European in feel and flair. A butcher shop disguised as a wine bar with outstanding food. Simple, pure and utterly delicious. Black slate covers the walls and tables. A long austere bar is the major seating area. Eclectic and well-thought out wine list paired with charming, savory food. A real neighborhood joint that serves outstanding food. I wish they could clone this place and put one in my neighborhood: I'd visit every day. Don't miss it.
We eventually got our luggage and the car. On to the hotel. I thought we were staying at an old favorite, the cobble Plaza, a stately hotel in the heart of the Back Bay. Bernard drove right past it. He booked us into Copley Place, a Westin hotel down the street. Apparently he didn't realize that Copley is as common a name in Boston as Daley is in Chicago. Oh well. We at least got a drink in the Oak Bar at the Copley Plaza.
On our last trip we had tried a few haute places and were unimpressed. This time we asked the concierge to book us into Blue Ginger, of Ming Tsai and the Food Network fame. We were all booked for Sunday night, until we called for directions and discovered that they were closed on Sundays. So much for the Concierge.
Next was Locke Ober, that ancient restaurant off Beacon Hill. It's been spiffed up a bit in the 20th century, but feels as though you've walked into a time warp. Service is very "Age of Innocence." All Victorian and Edwardian formality with enough silver plate to cause temporary blindness. Their old-fashioned famed lobster stew is a delight and a cholesterol nightmare. But if you're going to go, it's the way to do it. Other food there is less successful: the things that they tried to "modernize" just don't work. It's fussy, overly complex and insanely overpriced. Wine list is an expensive joke. We enjoyed going just to say we did, but were happy to leave.
However, two amazing finds. Jumbo Seafoodand The Butcher Shop.
First, Jumbo Seafood. A downright seedy spot in Boston's miniscule Chinatown. It's known as a late night chef hangout...they actually let you choose your fish/crustacean from the tanks in the front. They then fish it out, toss it into a metal pail and weigh it. We got there late on a Saturday night and were seated next to a large birthday party, feeling no pain: we were having much fun eavesdropping, as they were arguing at the top of their lungs in Chinese, and we couldn't understand a word. Now and then, we heard "Heineken," "Survivor", "asshole," but otherwise they were completely unintelligible. They were so loud and drunk that our overworked and harassed waitress kept bringing us food we hadn't ordered and muttering "no charge" as she flung it on the table. We think that they might have been friends of the waitress and she was embarrassed at their behavior. No worries, as the food was fingerlickin' good. So good we went back three days in a row. Fish. Fish. Fish. It's the only thing to order. Just point and wait. Then fall in love.
The Butcher Shop. A rainy day at lunchtime in South Boston. Formerly dangerous, now practically suburban and definitely yuppie. A small jewel. Very European in feel and flair. A butcher shop disguised as a wine bar with outstanding food. Simple, pure and utterly delicious. Black slate covers the walls and tables. A long austere bar is the major seating area. Eclectic and well-thought out wine list paired with charming, savory food. A real neighborhood joint that serves outstanding food. I wish they could clone this place and put one in my neighborhood: I'd visit every day. Don't miss it.
posted by MaryB at 12:34 PM
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