A Drink at Drink and Dinner at Oak + Rowan — Boston, MA — A Bar and Restaurant Recommendation

Last weekend was my and Chef Reiton's anniversary (WOOHOOOO!), so we decided to do that go-do-a-night-on-the-town thing to celebrate our six years of awesomeness. One of my besties got us a hotel room down in the Seaport district, a section of Boston that used to be SCARY but has recently made huge strides in becoming possibly the hippest neighborhood to play and live in, and with reservations to a new bar and a new restaurant to try, we hopped in an Uber and headed downtown with our overnight bag in tow.

After check-in and a cat nap, we walked over to a bar we had been wanting to try for a while called Drink. We arrived shortly after it opened for the evening and headed down the stairs to be welcomed at the bottom by the hostess. I could see it was already hopping inside, despite only having been open for half an hour—and I mean "hopping" to the point that the hostess asked if we were okay standing at the bar while we waited for a seat to open.

"Sure!" we said. "No problem," and we were led to a private little section of bar that was actually a door through the bar front and only about a foot deep. This, I realized, I liked as soon as our bartender walked up. It was personal and intimate bar service like I'd never had before.

As we waited for our drinks, I took a good look around. A bare-bones establishment of concrete, black pipe, brick and Edison bulbs, Drink's decor vibe is definitely lacking—for some. If you like to go eat or drink at restaurants just because they look pretty, Drink is not for you.

HOWEVER...

if you love a bartender that treats you like an old friend, fries that will blow your mind and cocktails created just for you and your specific taste for...je ne sais quoi, Drink is for you.

I could have stayed at Drink all night, but our dinner reservation at Oak + Rowan was drawing nigh. We thanked Jackie, our bartender, for a wonderful afternoon and headed out the door and up the stairs—which were now packed with a long, long line of people that went out the door and was beginning to wend its way down the block. Note to self: visit Drink at 4:10 PM (and ask for Jackie!).

Oak + Rowan, it turns out, is another minimalist restaurant. Elegant and warm but simple and clean (with windows galore—love!), we were greeted with warmth and welcome and seated in a lovely corner booth. And the warmth and welcome continued when our server, Patrick, approached the table and began what would be an absolutely heavenly evening. Yes, it was a bit pricey. And, yes, you pay for your bread at Oak + Rowan. But you are so SO happy you did once you take your first, warm, homemade, chewy, sourdough-y, date-buttery bite.

And then there is the butter gem lettuce salad sprinkled with flower petals and cherries. 

And the gnocchi drizzled with nettle (yes, nettle) pesto and nestled in mozzarella and the prettiest broth you ever did see.

And then...the dessert. THE DESSERT. I don't remember what it was called, but ask for the deconstructed Twix bar sent from the gods, and you won't be sorry. Maybe sick with happiness at this point, but definitely not sorry.

As we waddled our way back to the hotel, oh, the swoons. The sighs! The evening could not have been more deliciously perfect. 

The whole weekend could not have been more perfect, actually. And we keep finding ourselves talking about the Seaport and it's lovely inhabitants and saying to each other, "Let's go back. Soon."

A Childhood Classic or A New Classic Cocktail?: The Baldwin Bar's Take on Encyclopedia Brown

Ran and Company have done it again.

After spending the entire day yesterday impatiently waiting for evening to arrive, Chef Reiton and I drove to Woburn and spent the dinner hour with some friends, sampling dishes and creations from Volume 2 of the Trading Company's newest menu.

May I suggest, based on our completely destroying all five dishes brought to our table, the Cucumber with Garlic Sauce as an appetizer? It will leave your mouth singing, but your tongue will get used to it, I promise. We also loved the House Special Eggplant, one of Sichuan Garden's chicken dishes that will not leave your nose running (Ran's father runs the restaurant portion downstairs; it is the best Sichuan food you will ever eat. For real.). When it comes to the beverages, I also highly recommend that you just let the staff pick what you drink. Trust me.

We had the great pleasure to be served by Luteh, who can not only read minds but also has the uncanny ability to see into your past. How do I know? Because at the end of our meal, at my request to "just have one more," I was delivered this:

What you see is a little box disguised as a book. Tucked inside are a frosty flask full of the dreamiest (yes, dreamiest) bourbon cocktail I've had in a long time—if ever; a frosty glass with a wedge of lemon peel clothespinned to the rim; and a "library" card printed with the recipe for the cocktail: The Encyclopedia Brown.

(Pardon the imperfect picture, but it's romantically dark in the bar, and I was using my phone. One of these days I will take an Uber and my good camera and go crazy.)

I'm tempted to provide the recipe here, but—I'm a librarian and a violent opponent of copyright infringement, so.... I think you will have to go yourself. If you read the Encyclopedia Brown books as a kid, you'll remember that Encyclopedia Brown would never have stood for such injustice, either.

So. Instead of going to that truly God-awful Chinese restaurant down the street, make a reservation online for the upstairs section of The Baldwin Bar. Savor every bite of your mind- and tongue-numbingly good dinner, every divinely drinkable work of art that are the cocktails, and at the end of dinner, ask to check out "Encyclopedia Brown." It's a "read" you will never forget.

Yvonne's — Boston, MA — A Restaurant Recommendation

Yvonne,

I know we've only just recently started getting to know each other, but I feel that there is something I need to say: 

We've spent the evening together, what? Three times now? And every time you've been just spectacular. No matter what the evening brings, you always make me feel special. I can't help but leave you with a smile on my face. 

But this last time was different. Why? Because it was the night you truly stole my heart. It wasn't your dark, glittering beauty or your cheeky coquettishness or even your voluptuous menu. Although the baked oysters were divine, the bavette steak mouth-wateringly tender, and the Enchanted Catnip a fiery sight to behold—you had me completely when I overheard your server say to another guest, "I'm sorry; we don't have flavored vodkas. But we do have plain vodka that we flavor with our own housemade syrups."

My dear girl. You are the one.

With all my heart,

Rachael

P.S. You made it into the CAF recommended restaurant travel guide for Boston!

The Baldwin & Sons Trading Company — Woburn, MA — A Restaurant Recommendation

NOTE TO READER: The following letter is private. It is addressed to the new bar/love of my life. However, due to the nature of its delivery, I guess I am going to have to let you read it. 

Actually, please DO read it. It just may change your life forever, as well...

~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~          ~

My dearest Baldwin & Sons,

I know we only met last night, but like Romeo and Juliet, one meeting is all it appears to have taken for you to become, in my book—how shall I put it?

IT.

As Shakespeare so astutely says, so will I:

How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways...

So, here we go:

Reason #1 - You are beautiful.  I know that sounds incredibly shallow, but let's be honest: no one ever is immediately struck in a GOOD way with how ugly something is. Unless it is cute-ugly. Which you are not. You are striking. Well-kempt. Hip but classy. Well-balanced. Golden. Shall I keep going?...

Reason #2 - You are kind.  See? I'm not all about the looks. In fact, I believe I have to say that your kindness is more attractive than your beauty. (It's just that I didn't know it at first, and I'm going in order of occurrence.) Your genuine interest in my husband and I upon our meeting was rare in an establishment. We weren't just clients last night; we were friends. (Am I making you blush, yet?)

Reason #3 - You serve wickedly outstanding Sichuan dishes.  And as we all know, Sichuan is hot.  Enough said.

Reason #4 - Nika.  She corresponds about reservations and other such related matters at all hours of the day or night. Who ever heard of a bar hostess doing such a thing??? I actually forwarded her notes to my husband before we even met and said, "I love these people already..." See? It was a premonition.

Reason #5 - Van.  He made me my first cocktail (see below) and then proceeded to steer the rest of my dinner-time into an experience I will not forget in a long, long time...

Reason #6 - The Trader Vic.  What an opener! A Mai Tai that shook my notion of Mai Tais to its very foundations!

Reason #7 - The Southern Belle.  Can I just say that this was a revelation as to why I need to make cinnamon syrup TODAY??? She is a cocktail that is exactly as Van designed her to be: soft and demurely sweet but who can most certainly hold her own.

Reason #8 - Mick.  He quotes The Princess Bride.  Instant soul-attraction.

Reason #9 - You are generous. 

Reason #10 - The Prescription Sour.  Oh, glory be... Rum and scotch together? Who knew? (Sigh.)

Reason #11 - Patrick.  He, like Van, is a master. Truly, truly a master.  I could just watch and watch and watch...

Reason #12 - The Baldwin Apple Revised.  Everything about her was so sweetly irresistable: the foam. The little egg cup. The apple chips.  [aside] The frosting.

Reason #13 - You are unlike any other bar I've ever met.  And I've been to a lot.  A LOT.

Reason #14 -  Tyler.  How do you not love chatting about cocktails with someone who has a beard that rivals the finest of all beards? How?

Reason #15 - Ran.  The giant behind it all is THE one to thank, I know. I mean, you all run like the finest piece of clockwork. It's amazing to behold. And to enjoy...

Reason #16 - You are perfection.  So don't change. Ever. Unless you want to add some more life-altering cocktails. Then I'm okay with that.

I hope that the evening was as enjoyable for you... When we awoke this morning, the first thing Derrick and I said to each other was, "Last night was awesome." And we were talking about YOU.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

With many happy thoughts and fond memories, until we meet again,

Yours truly,

Rachael

Using Offal Isn't So Awful...Really: Learning to Use Turkey Guts

This past weekend, Chef Reiton and I had the kids home for our "Thanksgiving" since we won't get to see either of them on the actual holiday.  We spent Friday night experiencing the "T," wandering the North End, and trying out Carmelina's amazing pasta and Modern Pastry's fresh cannoli:

YUM to both.  

Saturday was to be "Thanksgiving," so while the rest went winter coat shopping, I stayed home to work on a classic Thanksgiving dinner.  Little did I know what I would discover in my solitary moments in the kitchen that afternoon.

Right before he left, Chef Reiton pulled out the Cook's Illustrated cookbook The Best New Recipe and said, "Let's make this gravy for our dinner tonight."

"Yeah, sure!" I agreed, quickly noting that he was leaving the book open to a particular page and then turning back to what I was doing.  And then he left.

I finished setting out pots and pans and got ready to stoke the fires, then turned to read the recipe.

The recipe that was titled: "Giblet Pan Gravy."

GIBLET.  As in guts.  Innards.  Organs.  Gizzards.  Offal.

Never in my life had I touched giblets, much less cooked with them.  I quickly scanned the recipe to see if I could somehow skip the giblet part.  But alas—it is hard to skip the main ingredient that the recipe is named for.  

I read on in further detail.  What the recipe largely wanted me to do was to make a stock from the giblets.  And the neck.  And the tail.  Which I had to CUT OFF.  Oh, Lord, could this get any worse?

But, really, I thought, trying to calm myself down, a stock isn't so bad. I didn't have to cut anything up.  All I had to do was brown up the whole lot of parts in their entirety and then add some herbs and broth and water and let it all go.  I could do that...

So I did.

As I stood over what looked to me like witches' brew, steam began to rise up out of the pot and bubbles started blurping on the surface.  I took a stir or two when suddenly... DEAR GOD.

It smelled like Thanksgiving.

Oh, for all you believers in a no-giblet/organs/offal Thanksgiving dinner, you must believe me.  That smell that we associate with Thanksgiving, that amazing aroma that our grandmothers' kitchens always had for the holidays that we just haven't been able to replicate and we never knew why?

Offal is why. 

It is the ingredient that releases that intensely dark meaty fragrance into the air—and into your gravy.  I silently praised my husband for once again unknowingly teaching me a lesson about the adventures of food...and then found myself stirring the pot ridiculously more times than was probably necessary.

As the simmering time drew to its close, I read on to my next steps in the gravy making: strain the broth, cool the gizzards...

then chop them up and save them to add to the gravy LATER???

HELL, NO!!!