The Food Buster's Profile
Wow, wouldn't have expected. But I can see how that might happen - it's really always been one waiter each night who's gone out of his/her way to make my meal great, but most of the others haven't been involved. I'll be on the lookout next time I head down there.
Thanks for the question - I realize now it might be somewhat confusing. The numbers are really less important than the qualitative analysis.
The scoring scale doesn't move up in equal increments, i.e. it's logarithmic.
Roughly the breakdown is:
So actually moving up from Scottish Salmon (4.3) to Hamachi (4.5) is a huge difference in terms of quality / category that's not really equivalent to an objective 4%. By the same standards, I'd really consider the Hamachi and the Uni Spoon (4.7+) in the same league.
And the 0.5 for value means "bad" value. It accounts not just for raw dollar amount, but also for portion size and for generally mediocre service (good, but not so much at the price tag). The sashimi dishes generally have six very small pieces, and the Uni spoon is really a bite. Moreover, it was $100 only because I deliberately stopped eating to avoid extra cost, but I could have very easily gone into the $200+ range.
Finally, the final score is an overall opinion, not based on deliberate weighting. It basically means I think of Uni as "very good" after factoring in everything. I also gave Uni 3 stars in Chowhound's rating system.
Hope that helps.
I'd say Oishii in Chestnut Hill is comparable and far cheaper (the Oishii in Boston, though a lot cheaper than Uni, is much more overpriced than the one in Chestnut Hill). Also, while I actually liked the flavorful combinations that Uni had, I was there with some sashimi purists who didn't think the quality of the fish was as good as the price might suggest.
I'm not saying the quality was bad, but I do think there are much better values. What's your view on the matter? I'm open to any disagreement on the matter, and I always like to hear second opinions.
Depends on what you're looking for.
If by seafood you mean the city's best clam chowder, some of its best friend calamari, and perfectly cooked fish, I hate to say it, but Legal Sea Foods (a chain of all things) is actually amazing. The clam chowder is a special knockout - been served to 4 presidents, wins all the awards, etc.
As for Italian, I can't say much - it's not my thing here.
A Hangover lunch, though, for cheeseburgers. We don't have many good cheeseburger joints in the city open during that time, but try Toro. It's open for lunch only during weekdays, and it serves its small 5 oz. burger only during that lunchtime. It's the city's best tapas bar, too, meaning that if you get sick of burgers, you can always snack on a couple extras at the same time.
Anyway, hope that helps.
I'm not sure if you can fit 14 in there, but Highland Kitchen is great. Food is cheap, but very high quality, and it has all the best Southern fixings, like Shrimp n' Grits and Fried Green Tomatoes. It's in Somerville, though, which isn't close to anything in Boston.
What do you think of Craigie? I know the scene isn't the nicest (I find it cramped), but I've never heard anybody - and I literally do mean anybody - ever speak a bad word about a meal at Craigie. Plus, I always love the service - great, friendly, kickback people who treat you with the right amount of respect, though the hostesses usually aren't quite as good. The food involves simple, fresh flavors, with everything bought locally, and very much in the same vein as Bergamot and TW Food.
I just had the opportunity to eat at Uni. I know it's been around for a while, but it's quite the experience, for better or worse, and I just wanted to share a review I just finished writing up.
Photos at: http://www.thefoodbuster.com/uni-sash...
The Review (Course-by-course at the end):
Having heard about the brilliance that is Ken Oringer (James Beard Award at 30 + 6 of Boston's hottest restaurant isn't too shabby), I knew I had to tackle what I considered the oddest of his creations, Uni. So I assembled a team of sashimi-philes and headed out to the Eliot Hotel for a night of delicious excess (or famine, as we'd soon see) and innovation.
As we entered, we were immediately impressed with Uni’s incredible polish, as the tiny restaurant manages to retain the Japanese respect for simplicity while simultaneously bolstering it with a fair bit of American flair. You descend from the main dining room of the more ostentatious Clio to a mini-enclave, a small jet-black sashimi bar crowded with a few tables. It is, more or less, a one-note color scheme, and yet that black is so intense that it practically shines, enticing you with its simple polish. And every item, every utensil, and every piece of food embodies that same principle of simple polish, presenting you on the surface with what you’d expect of a Japanese dining experience and yet still surprising you with the sheer quality. For example, as you sit down, you’re presented with sleek, glowing, nut brown chopsticks, placed neatly on a shining silver stand. The sake comes in shimmering green bamboo flasks, with authentic, miniature bamboo cups. And the food is just as much eye candy as anything else, always presenting you with an array of flashy colors, from blacks to pinks to greens. This may all seem simple, but that’s exactly the brilliance of the restaurant’s presentation: Uni has thought through everything down to the tee, and yet everything comes together seamlessly, to the point that it’s almost easy to miss the sheer amount of thought and work that went into the design.
The service was unfortunately the low-light of the night, not befitting the extraordinary $100+ price tag. Hotel restaurants are notorious for their overly obsequious, overbearing formality, yet I found that Uni suffered from the exact opposite problem. While the 20-seat restaurant is so small that one waiter could perhaps easily serve the whole restaurant—or at least manage to see whether customers needed to be attended with one sweeping glance—very rarely did our waiter come by to check in on the meal or to take extra orders (and trust me, you will need more than one order after you see how small the dishes are), and it took nearly an eternity to get any water refills. Still, as far as professionalism and amiability goes, I did enjoy the more casual, friendly attitude, a refreshing find in any hotel-based restaurant.
Thankfully, the food more than redeemed the restaurant. Keeping with the sophisticated blend of classic and modern, Uni undertakes what I’d call a minimalist’s take on innovation, as it combines quality, fresh ingredients in precise proportions.
And it’s not all presentation, as the flavors are just as bright, well-proportioned, and delicious as their look would suggest. Of the four plates I tried, most were easily recommendable. Above all was the divine Uni Spoon, a sinful combination of a quail egg with caviar, chives, and fresh sea urchin. It hit me in layers, starting with the deliciously oceanic, savory uni taste, proceeding to the creamy richness of the yolk, then a blast of saltiness, and finally the refreshing, palate-cleansing herby flavor of the chives. And the texture! Gooey egg integrated a gelatinous, custard-like uni with the fineness of caviar—simply incredible.
The hamachi with grapefruit vinaigrette, cubanelle peppers, and shiso was nearly as good, livening up the very accessible, but somewhat neutral, hamachi with just the right amount of fruity sweetness, a tiny pepper kick, and finally another palate-cleanser with the minty shiso. Thankfully the grapefruit didn’t taste bitter at all.
At the same time, the food is not nearly perfect. For example, while the restaurant has a superb Scottish Salmon sashimi—the extraordinary, marbled fat makes it practically slides down as you bite into—it overshadows that delicious fish nearly to oblivion with its heavy-handed use of pepper. One of my accompanying sashimi experts commented, in fact, that he’d have preferred the Scottish Salmon alone, with no ingredients, which here tampered the fish’s natural excellence.
Regardless, if we’re talking just quality, it’s hard to imagine many designer sushi/sashimi bars beating Uni. Not only does it innovate, but it generally knows how to counterbalance bold flavors against each other, always striving for balance and restraint (except when it comes to foie gras)—something that most of these fusion places almost always seem to forget.
My biggest complaint, then, isn’t with the taste. Nor is it even with the service.
What it comes down to is the bottom line. This is mind-blowingly good sashimi sometimes, but is that worth the price?
That Uni Spoon I spoke of? $16 for one bite of food! The dish may be superb. It may even beckon heavenly choirs into your mouth. But that’s a lot of money to be asking a person to pay for a bite of food.
To be fair, most of the other dishes are quite a bit larger. Still, I left the restaurant $100 poorer after splitting a small flask of sake (which cost me $15), sharing 2 plates, eating one plate completely by myself, having a spoon’s worth of uni, and enjoying a decadently rich, but palm-sized, chocolate cremeux. And I left starving, so much so that I immediately went to Chez Henri on my return and had the Cuban Sandwich, which, for $14, was probably more filling than my entire meal at Uni. While the ambience might make the price a little better, the service simply does not justify paying $100 for 4 plates, dessert, and some sake.
The ultimate choice, then, depends on three factors.
First, how much do you enjoy sashimi, and how much of a purist are you? If this is your cuisine, it simply doesn’t get much better, as this is hands down the most unique take on Japanese I’ve ever experienced. But if you’re coming here because it’s just a hotspot, or if you’re a purist, you may want to reconsider, because there are places just as hot in Boston and with sashimi just as good in quality at half the price.
Second, income. This is, unfortunately, not a place for the common man.
Third, hunger. Come here to be thrilled, not filled.
All in all, then, I’m glad for the experience, but I probably won’t be returning.
Without further ado, the course-by-course:
1. Uni Spoon (with a quail egg, Osetra caviar and chives): $16 for literally one spoonful of food may sound like a ripoff (and it is), but once you see and taste the dish, it begins to make just a little more sense. The restaurant provides you a generous portion of very high-quality uni (sea urchin), which tastes almost like oceanic, slightly salty, slightly savory heavy gelatin. And the ingredients mesh nearly perfectly, with the flavor, hitting you in numerous layers. First, you start off with the big, savory uni taste, followed by the incredibly strong, creamy fattiness of the yolk from the quail egg. A more pronounced, fishier saltiness then hits you as the palate picks up the caviar, and finally the subtle blast of herby chives near the end helps to balance out some of the rougher, richer flavors. But, for me personally, this dish is all about the indescribably delicious texture, as the gooey, incredibly creamy quail egg integrates the gelatinous, custard-like sea urchin and the finer caviar into an incredibly rich and decadent, but infinitely smooth, custard soup. Best of all, the dish leaves a layer of slightly oceanic yolk across the palate, leaving the mouth puckering with the uni’s fresh flavor in the back of the throat. 4.7+/5.0
2. Scottish Salmon (with Chinese black bean tapenade and fresh ginger): Probably the single best piece of fish I had all night, but the accompaniments don’t suit it as nicely as I’d like. The Scottish salmon is, in fact, so good that the accompaniments seem extraneous to an extent. It comes incredibly tender, with the fat marbled in perfectly so that you get an even amount chewiness in every bite. Never, however, does it feel rubbery. Moreover, the fat gives it a very bold flavor that you don’t get in normal salmon. Still, the dish makes a misstep with the black bean tapenade, which overpowers even the delicious fattiness of the salmon with excessive saltiness and garlic, especially in the aftertaste. I did like the fresh blast of pepper that you get as you put each piece in your mouth. That pepper is almost excessive, but it soon balances out as the ginger and salt begin to pick up. Overall, the dish just seems a bit confused, as it ranges from very peppery to garlicky to salty. Still, the quality of the ingredients, especially the salmon, is incredible. 4.3/5.0
3. Lacquered Foie Gras and Barbequed Eel (with green apple and kabayaki glaze): My least favorite dish of the night, for two reasons. First, the kabayaki glaze (made of soy sauce, sweet rice wine, and sugar) is slightly too sweet for my taste, and while it suits the eel well, it seems tacked onto the rich foie gras needlessly. Second, I enjoy fresh foie gras, but here it is roasted, giving it a slightly tougher-than-normal chewiness in the exterior, and it tastes somewhat oily, covering up the natural goose flavor. Thus, it is bland, even with the kabayaki. However, it’s difficult not to enjoy this dish. The eel is very tender, to the point that it is almost flaky on the inside, and yet it retains just enough toughness on the outside so that it doesn’t fall apart. It is also cut in flat but wide pieces, providing a good proportion of sauce to eel. But the best part of the dish is by far the texture, as it contrasts the tender eel off two polar opposites: the rich, almost gelatinous creaminess of the foie gras and the huge crunch of the never mushy green apple. Finally, I think the sour freshness of the green apple works well as a counterbalance to the overpowering, sweet oiliness of the other components—I just don’t think it’s enough. 2.8/5.0
4. Hamachi (Japanese Yellowtail with grapefruit vinaigrette, cubanelle peppers and shiso): While the fish itself isn’t quite as high-quality as the Scottish salmon, the accompaniments add so much flavor and nuance that this is by far the superior dish. The hamachi is still fresh and tender, though because it’s much leaner it isn’t quite melt-in-your-mouth. It is instead the grapefruit vinaigrette which shines, particularly as the embodiment of flavorful restraint: While grapefruit tends to be overpoweringly bitter, the vinaigrette manages to achieve nearly the perfect balance between fruity sweetness and bitter tang. In fact, it has more of a blood orange, citrusy quality than what I’d expect from a full-on grapefruit. After the initial fruitiness, the cubanelle peppers kick in to give the dish a tiny bit of counterbalancing spice—one much less than the peppery flavor in the Scottish salmon. Finally, just as that pepper and fruitiness become too strong, the shiso hits you with a blast of fresh, minty flavor, leaving your palate with an aromatic, refreshing end. 4.5/5.0. A harmonious, complex interplay of ingredients where nothing is wasted.
5. Miso Dark Chocolate Cremeux (with banana ice cream, golden miso, and cashew butter): I have to say, for a sashimi bar, Uni really knows how to nail a dessert, though this dessert is not quite as complex as the name and description might suggest. The restaurant seems to imply that miso serves as a substantive component in the plate, but the “golden miso” is simply relegated to a little line of syrup spread across the plate for presentational flair. The same goes for the cashew butter. Thus, this dish is really a dark chocolate cremeux with banana ice cream—and it’s delicious nonetheless. The cremeux may seem small at first, but it comes decadent, with the consistency of semi-solid ganache. And the flavor is on the neutral side, with Uni opting to emphasize the dark chocolate’s creaminess over its bitterness. The rich bitterness does come out lightly in the end, though, leaving you smacking your lips. The banana ice cream is a very nice contrast, both in texture and flavor. It is incredibly light and creamy, more like gelato than actual ice cream. Yet the flavor is as bold as the texture is light, providing a very fruity, very real banana taste. It both lightens the chocolate and enhances its neutral flavor with some very natural-tasting sweetness. 4.5/5.0. Very, very simple, but executed fantastically.
6. Bonus points on the amazing sake selection. I tried the first underneath the “rich” category listing, the Daishichi Kimoto Honjozo (Fukushima). The restaurant’s description is quite accurate: “creamy fragrance of rice and aromas of Japanese cypress.” It had a surprisingly nice mouth feel, hitting you with a tiny bit of milkiness, and I truly enjoyed the overtones of pine, oak, and other woods.
Uni Sashimi Bar
I actually agree. No flash means no flash, and you shouldn't waste time going for picture-perfect photos to document everything. Hence, why I typically take a couple quick shots with my camera phone and move on.
And if I could, I wouldn't take any photos myself. It slows down my meal and becomes a hassle. I actually hate to see people busting out the big cameras and taking a million photos myself.
Unfortunately, in the blogging business, ALL people want now is photos. Very few people sit down to read a full review, instead just quickly skipping to the photos and looking at nothing else. With as much competition as there is, you have to give them what they want or else you're not going to get much readership.
So it's really a balancing act. On the positive side, at a place like Alinea, you're there for 3.5 hrs, even as a single person. Taking 80 photos takes about 15 minutes of that time at the most.
Sorry for the late response. I honestly had nothing to drink, though. I wanted this to be a meal I remembered for the flavors, and I find that in multi-course affairs the wine can dull the palate a bit. Plus, I wanted the information as accurate as possible for my blog review.
That's odd - I had the opposite experience. At Keller's other big restaurant, Per Se, I thought I had the best service I've ever had in my life - impeccable, yet with so much geniality that I actually wanted to talk to the waiters. They even gave me a tour of the back. None of that at Alinea.
I guess it really depends on luck. Glad you had a better experience with Alinea than I did.
No problem. A meal like this is definitely worth a thousand words (or more)!
So I luckily scored a seat at Alinea last year around this time and had one of the most phenomenal meals of my life. I've finally finished writing up a review, and I wanted to share it with all you fellow Chowhounds. The courses are probably out of date by now, but this was still the most unique, most fun, and most interesting meal I've ever had in my life, and I think Alinea deserves all the praise it gets.
Full photos of the kitchen, restaurant, and food (over 80 of 'em) at http://www.thefoodbuster.com/alinea/
The Review (full course-by-course analysis at the bottom):
As I approached Alinea, I was surprised at how low-key it felt. While Alinea takes the modern to the maximum, the entrance is so inconspicuous that I passed it at first, only seeing a small valet parking sign with practically no storefront. Only when I noticed that I had passed Alinea on my smartphone did I return to find the restaurant concealed in a full-black exterior, with large black doors that blended almost seamlessly into the background.
Upon entering, though, I was amazed, as I entered a veritable maze of red squares, like a dimensional warp (I realize the reference sounds very nerdy, but there’s really no better way to explain it). I began to walk forward, expecting to get to the end of the tunnel, until another hidden black door on my left opened out of nowhere, revealing a very chic interior, colored in different shades of blacks and greys, with differential lighting so that each room is spotted throughout with light and shadow. It’s a very plain color scheme, but it looks a lot more vivid/colorful than it might seem because of the different kinds of lighting. Moreover, the decoration, for being so plain, is quite nice, as the walls are filled with vivid abstract paintings, typically depicting squiggled lines in different patterns. I purposely use the word “squiggled” to imply that it’s a bit childish, but I mean that in a positive way, since everything I saw in this restaurant has a slightly ridiculous, over-the-top quality that sends you back down memory lane. I’m not the biggest fan of abstract art, but I think it’s done extremely tastefully and really suits the chic, high-tech ambience of the place. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get clear photos of the décor to show you what I mean, since the restaurant has a strict no flash policy.
As for the service, it was, as expected, excellent, though on the very formal side, and it would have been nice to have more genial waiters. To be fair, the waiters were constantly working, just trying to get out all the 29 courses without hitch, so I can understand why they’d be a bit uptight.
Here’s another good example of that type of attention: I left to go to the bathroom at one point, and I returned to find a brand new napkin folded perfectly. I must have honestly changed napkins a good 3-4 times during the night.
The sheer quantity of service is even impressive. There were six waiters just attending to the “tour” room, which says a lot, since there were only seven tables in the whole room and only about five occupied at any point in the night.
That’s where I took my seat, prepared for my 29-course “tour” through the culinary world. Before proceeding with my dinner, though, I asked for a tour menu just so that I could know what I was eating before eating it. To my surprise, the waiter suggested that I hold off, because Alinea likes to “surprise you” with each course, although he still offered me the menu if I so wished. I understand that I’m a food critic, but before that, I’m a food lover, and that “surprise” feeling is about the best experience you can have as a food lover. I really love the fact that Alinea encourages patrons to hold off on the menu, so that this “tour” is really just that—a tour of different cuisines and dishes that you may not be able to readily identify, meaning you truly are exploring new flavors. It was a fantastic touch, and one that I’m sure any foodie will appreciate.
A couple things to warn you about, though. When they say “tour,” they really do mean a “tour.” That means two things. First, the focus is on an exploration of ingredients, concepts, presentation, and techniques, rather than simply on taste. You will be amazed—I guarantee you that much. Some of the tricks they pull here even verge on the ridiculous. Expect dishes served on pillows, bacon hanging off a trapeze, a double-layered egg-shaped dish with a surprise course on the bottom half, fried sticks of milk, etc. It’s shocking, beautiful, and downright experimental, so be ready for a spectacle!
At the same time, that spectacle comes with a trade-off, and that’s in terms of taste. That’s not to say the food is less than amazing. But you have to remember that making a distillation of fish and Thai chili is not the simplest thing on the planet, and really those two ingredients are hard enough to match together on the same plate, let alone to be distilled together. Part of the “tour,” then, is trying flavors that you otherwise wouldn’t, and that means some dishes will fall flat on your face, or in this case, on your palate—and that partly is a matter of personal preference.
The second point to be made about the “tour” is that it is just a slight tasting of everything. 29 courses are no joke. You will be there for 3 hours, and you will be constantly eating. Yet, you might just leave without a full belly, as in my case. You’re not really supposed to leave satiated, but rather wanting more. Why else give 29 small tastes? Sure, some of it will miss, but the good will be great, and you’ll want just one more bite. Hence, why I justifiably went and had hot dogs after my meal at Alinea, with no guilt whatsoever.
That all said, the big question is, is it worth it? It may be a phenomenal meal, but $225 isn’t cheap. With Alinea, though, you need to understand what you’re getting. First is the extraordinary ambience and service, which far surpass that of most other high-end dining experiences. The service, moreover, lasts over 3 hours. Next are the 29 courses. Producing that much variety and that much quantity isn’t cheap, especially since many dishes use an astounding number of ingredients (just take a look at the New Zealand venison dish, which uses 30+ ingredients only in the sauce). Third are all the tricks—and I mean that in a positive way. These aren’t just high-quality ingredients you’re getting, but some of the techniques used here are about as tough as cooking can get, and only a master can perform them reliably. Fourth, the food isn’t all tricks, as it tastes phenomenal. Some dishes may miss, but overall, this is about as good as fine dining gets.
Finally, and most importantly, this meal is about as fun as food gets. This point is a bit more intangible than the others. From the start, my waiter told me that the staff wanted to surprise me, and they did—not just once, not just twice, but a whole 29 times. I have to judge Alinea on the basis of more than just the food, for the actual taste isn’t what I remember so much as the thrill of the experience, which surprised, excited, and even taught me in a way I’d never expect.
In that sense, Alinea’s meal may not be my first choice for the most perfect meal of my life, but it is by far the most entertaining I’ve ever had. Even with the hefty price tag, it is a must try for any true foodie.
All I can say is, thank you, Grant Achatz.
As promised, here is the full analysis of every dish at Alinea. Bon appetit!
1. Char roe, nutmeg glass, papaya yogurt
Quite the feat of molecular gastronomy! A plastic bag made of nutmeg holds within it a delicious combination of zesty greens. You break the glass open, mix it all together, and get a blast of sweet, fruity flavors from the papaya, salt from the roe, crunchy greens, and some extra veggie freshness from some tomatoes and cilantro (?). The glass bag is a nice touch and the dish is an overall great blend of fresh ingredients. 4.8/5.0 for presentation. 4.5/5.0 for taste.
2. Yuba and shrimp (Shrimp and sesame rolled around a stick of yuba milk. The yuba extract has been flash fried to form a stick. Sweet miso sauce on the bottom)
You’re literally eating fried milk, and it’s delicious. The yuba itself is just like a breadstick, except it has a deep grittiness and a flavor similar to the sesame seed (the seeds may have been infused into the batter). The shrimp is very fresh, giving some savoriness, while the miso contributes a pretty bold sweetness. The overall effect is rather nice—sweet, crunchy, meaty, gritty, and a tad oily, and yet no flavor really overpowers the others. Still, the key charm is not so much the flavor as the presentation and mastery of gastronomic techniques. 4.9 Presentation. 4.3 Taste.
3. Sugar Cane and Shrimp (Shrimp is bound around purified sugarcane)
This is really tough to eat, but very delicious. When they said sugar cane, they weren’t joking. The shrimp is actually wrapped around a whole piece, and you have to munch through that sugar cane, which really is the key component of the dish. When you do, you get an intense blast of a coconut juice-like sweetness, one that for the most part overpowers the shrimp. It’s delightful at first, but because the sugar cane is so chewy, it’s really hard to actually munch through it and grind it down. 3.5 Presentation. 4.0 Taste.
4. Distillation of Thai Chili, Lemongrass, and Fish Sauce
5. Spring Roll
This is one of those unforgettable dishes, not so much for the taste or flavor—this is just a spring roll after all (and I could probably get a better-made one at a Chinese restaurant to be honest)—but the presentation is extraordinary, requiring numerous steps. First, they bring out a wooden plank with a glass panel on top, the panel loaded with about 10 different ingredients. You take the top off and find a wooden panel with two metal pieces in the middle, which are then taken out and fixed together into a semi-bull shape. Then, the flag placed on your table from the beginning of the evening is draped over the bull-frame. It turns out that that flag is actually a sheet of rice paper. Pork belly is loaded into the paper, which you then load with whichever ingredients you want and make your own spring roll. You really get everything you could want, too: bananas in curry sauce, fresh greens, cashews, cayenne sauce, onions, cucumbers, black salt, cilantro lime sauce, and a couple others.
6. Squid with fennel and peanuts, along with Greek yogurt, mint, and chickpea soap: I’m separating these two because they were such a night and day difference.
The Squid: The squid was pretty bland, especially in comparison to the other courses so far. It was a bit too salty, and there was really no coherence to the flavors. The peanuts added some nutty crunch, the fennel some zestiness, but really, all I got out of the dish was some nuts and herbs, neither of which really complemented the other, and the squid was an almost no-show. Disappointing. I’d have enjoyed this course more if the squid had been excluded. 1.0/5.0
The Greek Yogurt soup: Absolutely phenomenal. The presentation is fantastic, as it’s been whipped up into a frothy foam, with a very nice green color. It’s creamy and rich, like a heavy soup instead of a foam, with a zestiness from the mint that is extremely refreshing. Yet, because it’s a foam, it’s much lighter than a soup with this much flavor would normally be. In fact, I can’t imagine making a soup this flavorful without cream, but it seems that Alinea has accomplished it with simply some whipped Greek yogurt. This is delicious, fresh, simple, and beautiful. 4.9/5.0
7. Poppyseed foam, Lobster gelee, grapefruit, toasted pistachios, and ice cream
The foam is a nice touch—again, it adds some presentational flair. The taste is light, but it works well here, since you don’t want too much poppyseed interfering with the lobster or ice cream. The ice cream is surprisingly delightful. At first, I thought it was a bit too rich or had too much of a fish taste to it, which it really picked up from the lobster, but it has some nice complexity I just can’t find in any other ice cream I’ve tried—lobster saltiness, with a toasted flavor, and some nice crunch from the toasted pistachios on the side. The grapefruits I didn’t really taste, and when I did, I found them extraneous. The same could probably be said for the poppyseed foam, but that one contributed a more noticeable flavor at least. Finally, the gelee wasn’t that great—the texture and flavor just seemed weak compared to some of the bolder, better flavors in the mix, especially those of the ice cream. Moreover, the salt did at times dominate all the flavors. 4.8/5.0 Presentation. 3.2/5.0 Taste.
8. Lobster and eggplant salad with cilantro
Very aromatic—you can literally smell the freshness off this course, especially from the cilantro and some spice, like a curry (I couldn’t put my finger on what it was). It’s also helped by a soup right underneath it (I’ll get to that course later), which infuses it with a very herby aroma. This really is quite an inviting dish. The taste, though, again doesn’t live up to that expectation. I do like the idea of a garden-type salad, made with only the freshest herbs and just a couple ingredients. The Asian influence definitely shows, especially since you’re asked to eat this with chopsticks—that worldliness is really quite fitting for a “tour.” Unfortunately, while the lobster is well-cooked, it really doesn’t have much seasoning, and the flavors provided are very one-dimensional. To be fair, it is perfectly cooked, so that it has the proper chewiness and succulence, and the parsnip and cilantro definitely come through with a strong zesty herbiness. The goal is complexity, with the lobster and eggplant giving way to a strong herbiness, but the way this dish is executed the combination comes off as simple and dull—as though the lobster and eggplant aren’t really center stage at all, as their flavors disappear so quickly that they feel overshadowed. Still, the freshness is very nice. 3.5/5.0. Presentation: 3.5/5.0
9. Lobster Parsnip Soup/Lobster Tea
Presentation through the roof! The past dish was stacked in two parts. The top is taken off, revealing another layer filled with a lobster parsnip soup. That soup is strained in front of you to form a lobster tea, which is then presented to you in a glass. This is the “surprise” effect they were talking about, and I have to give them credit for really outdoing themselves here. As for the taste, it’s not quite as nice as the last soup I had the pleasure of tasting. The lobster has a very noticeable bitterness that I wasn’t expecting, along with a very controlled, prominent saltiness that leaves your mouth thirsting and wanting more. It’s not bad, but it’s not the best either. And for some reason the soup has the spiced taste of gingerbread (sans the sweetness) just slightly, and I don’t mean that in a good way. Overall, this soup has potential and definitely a unique flavor, but the flavors are a bit immoderate, especially in being overly bitter and far too salty (unsatisfyingly so—since it’s so creamy and rich, the salt really hits every part of your mouth). 1.7+/5.0 Taste. Presentation is beyond perfect.
10. Tempura filled with goose meat and prunes in Armagnac, skewered on juniper branches
Another fantastic concept. The bowl is heated to release the fantastic aroma of the juniper, so that it practically attacks you with a Christmas-tree like freshness. And the idea of skewering something on a tree branch is about as unique a concept as I’ve seen.
11. Hot Potato, Cold Potato
Fantastic concept and flavor all-around. This is a dish that you must eat immediately to take advantage of the full flavor. You shoot it like an oyster—something that definitely adds some character to something as boring as potatoes. Basically, there is a pin in the dish, which, when removed, releases a hot potato into a cold potato soup, and you take the whole thing all at once. It sounds a bit boring, being mostly comprised of potato, but I was actually surprised by the flavor. The contrast of hot and cold is fantastic, as is that of chunky (hot potato) vs. smooth and creamy (cold potato), and everything is topped with some flavorful seasoning. Really, this is a true display of the power of one simple ingredient, utilized to its best. The dish is very starchy, but it’s not too heavy because of the seasoning and because it comes in such a small quantity.4.4/5.0 for taste. 4.5+/5.0 for concept and presentation.
12. Duck assortment—Foie gras, duck breast, duck heart, duck gizzard, and duck leg with honey gelee, served in an orange and sherry foam
The foam is great. Because of the strength of sherry and oranges as ingredients, you really taste them, even though the foam is so light. The foam mixes well with the natural juice of the duck, which is extremely savory and has a nice saltiness that leaves you wanting more but which doesn’t overpower you. The leg is delicious—chewy, fatty, not oversalted. The foie gras was enhanced by the salty duck broth, which helped to give it an added flavor, and it was crisped on the top so that it had a great chewy crunchy. The gizzard and heart added a kind of denser, grittier, beefier taste to the dish, adding some complexity with a sort of mushy, dark meat flavor. I can’t say they were my favorites, but they add a nice contrast and go with the concept of presenting a whole duck. The honey gelee, though, seemed extraneous—it had some fruity sweetness, but it was just overshadowed by all the other ingredients. Still, this dish gave a veritable tasting of a whole duck, with every single piece of duck cooked perfectly in a very flavorful broth. Delightful and simple. 4.6/5.0
13. 3-part Course: Frozen Thai Banana, Apple with smoked bacon and caramelized wrap, Kumquat
Frozen Thai Banana: Zesty, flavorful, and complex. The texture is almost gel-like. It’s very soft and oddly enjoyable. It’s also chilled, going with the idea of the frozen banana, which is nice. As for the taste, it’s complex as can be: first, an herbiness hits you, followed by a slight spice, followed by the fruity banana, and finally by a contest in your mouth between the spicy and the fruity flavors. It’s a really nice effect and a very interesting dish, even if it’s not something I’d personally order. And the presentation—on a little glass that looks like it’s chilled ice—is a plus. 4.2/5.0 Presentation. 4.0/5.0 for Taste.
14. Pear Mousse with foie gras and dehydrated pears
15. Roasted potato, leek, chive, smoke (pure smoke served as a gel!), cold-smoked apples, and house-cured sturgeon (cured overnight)
A few things to explain about this dish, because it is just so interesting how Alinea made it. First, there is a layer of pink gel, which is made by cold-smoking apples, the pink being the color that the skin of the apples gives off. Second—and this is the big draw for someone who loves to experiment with food—is that the chefs actually utilized pure smoke and transformed it into a gel, which they place in small dollops on the plate. You might be wondering how that’s possible. Well, the chefs freeze the smoke into ice cubes, which they then melt down to get a pure essence of smoke. They then use that essence to form the gel.
16. Premier Cru Wine as a palate change for the next course: Just as a side note, this really wasn’t a great selection, but I wasn’t here to drink anyway.
17. Filet de Boeuf (Japanese Wagyu Beef Tenderloin in center, with seven accompaniments, including sweetbreads, button mushrooms, etc.)
This is an assortment of meats and savory flavors that is, for the most part, a success, though it can sometimes miss the mark slightly. The sweetbreads are phenomenal—crisped perfectly, with a great crunch. The button mushroom is succulent and has a slight herby tang that is very enjoyable. The (beef?) rillette is a bit much—oversalted and quite unsatisfyingly mushy. The centerpiece, the Wagyu, is succulent and properly cooked, such that it literally melts in your mouth and oozes out its savory juices in every bite. The sauce adds a fantastic savory sweetness (I think it’s made of veal). Of the remaining accompaniments, there is a jello-like blog, which has very little flavor at all. Also, there is a rilette/soft sausage-like puree, which does have some nice herbiness but doesn’t really astound. Finally, there is another puree, this one with avery gritty texture, like that of seeds or hardened beans. It at least has some crunch and a heavy starchiness to help balance the proteins, but it is again unimpressive. 4.3/5.0. The good parts of the dish are extremely good, but some accompaniments are just bland. Too much is going on in the plate to really be able to do it all masterfully.
18. Raviol with black truffle broth, topped with black truffle and parmesan
As the waiter put this plate down, he recommended I take it all up in one bite for an “explosion of flavor”—and boy was he right! The raviol is soft and tender, nicely cooked so that it has the proper texture and doesn’t interfere with the flavors. Moreover, the dish is so intense that the truffle infusion practically comes out your nose. The black truffle broth is steamy and aromatic, while the black truffle on top adds a bolder, fresher zest. There’s very little to say other than that you’re mouth is exuding black truffle for the next couple minutes, in one of the best aftertastes you can imagine. The one problem would, ironically, be an over-explosion of flavor, which can be offsetting for the faint of heart. The funny part is that the dish looks so unassuming—it’s just a small ravioli in a plate with a missing bottom (it’s quite nice when you actually see it). 4.7/5.0 Taste. 3.5/5.0 Presentation.
19. Venison from New Zealand with cranberry gelee and a black sauce made of pumpernickel bread, black garlic, raisin, licorice, and about 20 other “black” ingredients. All served on a plank of white birch (for aroma)
This is, hands down, the nicest presentation so far, and you unfortunately can’t even see it because everything is black (and I couldn’t use flash for my photos). It’s a huge plank on top of a bed of salt and a huge white plate. The birch is pitch black, as is the sauce that’s drizzled all over. That sauce, too, is made of only “black” ingredients (listed above), which really strikes me as an interesting concept, even if the taste isn’t perfect. Moreover, the birch, while ridiculously large, is the perfect choice to add aroma, making the whole dish exude an unbelievable smokiness. This is about as nice as it gets.
20. Lemon Soda (Packet of lemon soda powder)
This is simple, fun, and extremely flavorful. What’s really unique is that it looks like a packet, but in reality the packet is completely edible and just dissolves in your mouth with no problem. When you eat this, you get a strong candy-lemon taste, kind of like pop rocks without the pop. The powder is, oddly enough, very interesting in the mouth, as it’s gritty but it almost immediately takes on a heaviness as it soaks up saliva. It’s a truly lemony flavor, with tons of citrus and that soda-like sweetness that we used to love when we were kids. 4.6/5.0 all-around.
21. Bubble-gum Straw (Straw of glass-like material, with three layers: strawberry, hibiscus, bubble gum. You suck on the straw, and as you do so, the flavors all mix with each other)
SUPERB! This is not only the most creative dish I’ve ever had in my life, but it is flawless to a tee. The glass straw with three different layers gives you the idea that the flavors are not meant to be eaten together, but rather come in a progression. When you start sucking on the glass straw, though, everything immediately and rapidly is vacuumed into your mouth in a blazing whirl. The phenomenon can’t be described in words—it happens that quickly. It’s a blast of perfect flavor in the mouth. The strawberry fruitiness, the hibiscus zest, and finally a true but not overwhelming bubble-gum like sweetness all mix to create a gooey, slightly chewy, enjoyably smooth and creamy mixture of sweet, fruity, and herby. 5.0/5.0. Perfect in all regards, presentation included.
22. Strawberry Foil
I feel bad for this dish, because after the last one, it’s bound to be considered a failure in comparison. The presentation is again quite nice, as it’s served on a unicycle wheel—a throwback to the carnival, as is the actual treat itself, a fruit roll-up-like strawberry foil. It’s just a crispy sheet of sweet fruit that you tear off and bite piece by piece. It’s an interesting concept, but I find the taste to be a bit dull. It’s just too sweet, having somewhat of a cloying candy-like, artificial fruitiness which really distracts from the excellence of the gastronomical feat. Dusting it with tons of sugar doesn’t help. Still, the foil has a great lightness and crispiness, with extreme flavor for something just so light. 2.3/5.0. 4.5/5.0 for concept and presentation.
23. Earl Grey Plate (Dish of various ingredients that play on Earl Grey, served on top of a pillow with steaming Earl Grey inside. The ingredients include lemon curds and white chocolate strands that look like golden noodles)
Another home run for the dessert section. This time around, the presentation is too over-the-top even for me. You might be wondering why the plate is served on the pillow—so was I (and I still am). The explanation was that the pillow houses Earl Grey tea, with all of its steam inside. As the plate sits on the pillow, the pressure deflates the pillow, releasing the steam, creating a very gradual aromatic experience of Earl Grey that then permeates the whole dish, complementing the flavors. The aroma is nice, although the method used to arrive at it is absurd.
24. Chocolate Course emphasizing three ingredients—Chocolate, Coconut, and Menthol (Chocolate Menthol Crumbs, Chocolate Menthol Cream, Coconut Mousse, Chewy Coconut, Coconut Milk, Hyssop, Dark Chocolate Mousse Frozen with Liquid Hydrogen, Warm Choc Pudding)
Hands down, the coolest dish I’ve ever eaten. Part of me just wants to give it an automatic 5.0 for not only integrating a slew of amazing chocolate products, but also integrating the whole table into the dish, as the chef himself covers the table with a special mat and then draws a design with the ingredients right across the table. It’s incredibly unique and very well-done: just look at the photos to see how so much attention is given the design and the variety of ingredients.
25. Tea Course (and I mean an actual tea, thank goodness)
I'm surprised nobody has mentioned Punjabi Dhaba. It's near Harvard Square, right next to Christina's, probably Boston's best ice cream. It's somewhat run-down, but the food is top-notch, no questions asked.
As for Middle Eastern, I'd say check out Oleana for something amazing and somewhat pricey, or Sofra Bakery for some cheaper, more reasonably priced baked goods and savories.
I second this opinion. Burdick's has simply an amazing range, with 6 single origin cocoas I think. The white hot chocolate isn't half bad, either, with just the right amount of sweetness.
I'd also say that Finale's white hot chocolate is pretty great, though the other options are so-so.
I've got just one place to add to the list: Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles. I know you're probably looking for something a bit more unique than chicken and waffles, but Roscoe's is a staple that I find myself returning to every time I visit LA. Imagine perfectly crunchy fried chicken smothered in sweet onion gravy and served with a side of some of the fluffiest, cakiest waffles you can get anywhere. It might not be for everyone, and it's definitely not a glamorous place, but it's one of the few places that is as good as they say.
I'm sorry, but I have to disagree about Sweet. I tried four cupcakes for a review, and I found all of them to be overbearingly sweet, to the point that I couldn't finish them. The red velvet was definitely near the bottom of my list.
Ya, I think it has to do more with fitting in than with a strict dress code. When I ate there, nearly everyone was dressed in a suit. Chicago's a really formal, business-oriented city, after all, so I'd err on the side of caution.
I've actually had it, and I can confirm it's pretty good.
From a review I've written on Comet Ping Pong (Photos at http://www.thefoodbuster.com/comet-pi...):
Yalie (Fresh Garlic, Clams, Melted Onions, Parsley, & Thyme): This is the supposedly phenomenal pizza that I’ve been hearing so much about over at the Washingtonian, and upon biting into it I can see why. It has one of the most unique tastes of any pizza that I’ve ever had. The pie is incredibly aromatic, zesty, herby, and oily, with ingredients that are all very bold. The best part, of course, is the crust, as I’ve noted above. But the flavors really work well here. While the oil can be offsetting, here I find it to be very flavorful, largely because so many herbs have been integrated into the pie. It reminds me of a light butter, garlic sauce that would go really well with seafood in general. That garlic really does come through, too. The pie even incorporates huge chunks of garlic right onto the top. Surprisingly, though, it’s never overwhelming, largely because that garlic is counterbalanced by some of the heavier flavors, like the oil and the onions. There’s the other standout of the dish—the onions. I’ve never had melted onions before, but the taste is reminiscent of lightly caramelized onions, with a nice slight sweetness. Moreover, since they’re melted down they give a really nice smoothness on the top. Added to all this flavor is the clam, which doesn’t add too much except for some salt to the whole pie (which was overwhelming for my friends) and a nice chewiness to go along with the crust. My big complaints are really in the lack of cheese, which is just sprinkled on lightly and which would help to balance out some of the oiliness, and a general lack of toppings. This is supposed to be a clam pizza, but I really can’t taste much of the clam at all.
4.0/5.0. Very unique.
First of all, if you come to Boston, you HAVE to try the cannolis. I'd recommend Mike's Pastry and Modern Pastry, two rivals in the North End that have been going at it for decades (and they're located right across the street from each other, too!)
Next, for a pizza, Santarpio's in East Boston is some of the best I've had in my life, even beating out the pies I tried in NY.
For a burger, Radius, one of the more expensive fine dining institutions in town, serves up my favorite in the nation, complete with a creamy horseradish lemon mayo sauce and fried onion strings.
And for something chocolaty, I'd recommend LA Burdick's in Harvard Square, one of the most affordable premium chocolatiers in America. I personally think it's the best American chocolatier you can find.
Popcorn and Peanuts--Per Se
Tres Leches Doughnut--Doughnut Plant
Toasted Marshmallow Milkshake--Standburger
And the good thing about Teaism is that it has an amazing Salty Oat Cookie, which is easily one of the best cookies in the city, along with some savory dishes. So you can make a meal out of it. Plus, the tea selection is incredible, with countless Asian varieties that I've never seen anywhere else.
I'm glad that DC's crazy for burgers and that Dupont's getting even more burger joints packed inside its small circle, but let's face it: None of those burgers really compares to Ray's. I've eaten and review every burger there is in DC, and the only one that keeps me coming back consistently for more is Ray's because it just cuts out all the gimmicks with its monstrous patty and countless toppings.
What's your take here? Do you guys think anything in Dupont can really be called "best burger" in DC?
There are some pretty reasonable options, but if you're looking for a super special bottle, you probably won't find it.
Instead of focusing on an extensive list coming from the most popular regions in the world, you get a more focused list with some lesser-known wines. Especially surprising is that the restaurant features a whole list of Greek wines (although it's a Greek restaurant, I really didn't know Greece was a big wine producer), and the sommelier will tend to steer you in that direction.
When I was there, though, I was still able to get a pretty decent Spanish wine in the $50-$60 range I think, but I can't recall exactly what it was.
I'll try to help out as much as I can. I've reviewed about 125 Argentine wines or so, and there are only a few I find myself coming back to drink.
My favorite Malbec of all time is the Bressia Monteagrelo (about $30). Bressia also produces my favorite icon-level wine, the Conjuro, and they've just released a super-icon that's already Argentina's second highest-priced wine of all time. Pretty much anything they make is gold, regardless of price.
As for the traditional Malbec, nothing beats an Achaval Ferrer wine. Four of his five wines are Malbecs, three of which are icon-level. The base Malbec is an incredible value, too. Basically, he's the country's most famous Malbec man, but he can also be found stateside, so I'd recommend taking a pass on him.
I'm also a huge fan of Pulenta Estate, but mostly for their blends, which are, to be fair, mostly composed of Malbec. It's probably the best moderately-priced brand. I love their icon-level wine, the Gran Corte, a $45 mix of mostly Malbec and Cab that is still probably the best value of any premium Argentine wine.
Finally, for a cheap wine that I had quite a few times, go with the Malbec Festivo. It's pretty commonly available in restaurants, but I haven't found it here.
Really, though, the sommelier should be able to help you out. In any decent parrilla, most of the wines should be Malbec or include Malbec in some way.
As for a wine store, I like Le Choix de Vin for a huge selection. Just ask them for their recommendations--they're pretty good about it. They'll also package a whole case for you.
Hope that helps.
P.S. side note from that list of restaurants: La Vineria de Gualtero Bolivar serves any wine from the menu by the glass, no matter how expensive it is. I got them to open up a $100 bottle just for me (and then they were stuck with drinking the rest).
Couldn't agree more.
Value is always a concern for a place like this. It's really hard to justify dropping so much for Indian food, but sometimes I guess you do pay for quality. The black cod, though, definitely could use a portion boost.
Ya, I can understand what you're saying. As a dish, it's extremely simple, with few frills. I personally don't get too excited for it, but as far as fish is concerned, I do think they do a pretty good job of cooking it and integrating in a subtle sweetness.
Still, it's really a matter of taste, I suppose. I would agree, too, that the more Indian dishes are far more impressive and interesting.
There was a thread posted by someone in the community asking for a good, moderately-priced restaurant in DC for a one-day trip. I said I'd post up a review of my recommendation, Rasika, to help out with the decision, so here it is.
Photos/Course-by-course at: http://www.thefoodbuster.com/rasika/
Rasika is easily my favorite Indian restaurant in Washington, DC, and one of my favorites in the nation. This isn’t your traditional Indian, though. Rasika verges on the more modern side. Gone is the traditional simplicity of the Indian world. Replacing it is a very chic environment, complete with a nice, comfy lounge, a rather large wine cellar, and a main dining room that just screams of class. The dining area is especially impressive—just a huge space and relatively few tables, polished wood, a small counter area around an open kitchen, and even a curtain of crystal beads to block sight of all the commoners sitting in the lounge area. Or at least that’s how Rasika feels, with its somewhat presumptuous air of European refinement. On the positive side, though, it is gorgeous, very comfortable, and much, much nicer than what you’ll find in almost any Indian restaurant. Not surprisingly, it’s also a popular hangout with the professionals in town, so you get lots of suits in there, something I’ve never seen in an Indian restaurant before.
And that type of class continues with the service and even the food. The service quality depends on whom you ask, but I thought it was fantastic. Our waiter was attentive, prompt, gave very helpful recommendations, and even hooked us up with an extra appetizer—their best—just so that the whole table could try it out. And when my friend decided he couldn’t drink his cocktail because it was so horrible, the waiter took it back with no charge, either. On the other hand, another friend thought the service was horrible, since the waiter accidentally stepped on his foot for a minute without noticing. So take the service for what you will, but I personally will vouch for the waiter as rather respectful and welcoming.
Topping off the great food and atmosphere, the food was fantastic. Even though most dishes are very traditional, there are still some unique and inventive choices on the menu, both in how the traditional dishes are re-imagined and in what types of dishes are offered. For example, you don’t typically see such choices as a black cod (the signature) or a chicken green masala on the menu. Just as importantly, it doesn’t feel like needless innovation. Instead, the flavors just burst in your mouth, as each dish tends to utilize very few, very strong ingredients but still retains a surprising complexity, combining a taste of spice with the sweet, the crunchy, the minty, etc.
I have only two complaints. First—and this is rather small—is that the traditional drinks accompanying Indian food, like fruit juices, are downplayed (i.e. almost non-existent) in favor of wines. While I myself didn’t have any wine, I just don’t see the point of accompanying Indian food with $100+ bottle of wine. Second, and much more importantly, is the price. This is still just $30-$50, but in terms of prices for Indian food, that’s still on the pricier end. $16 isn’t bad for a curry entrée, but you can get it at most traditional places for about $10 or less. Still, you pay for the ambience, service, and quality, and I do have to say that I’d gladly dish out the extra money for a fantastic, memorable Indian experience.
All in all, I, and every single one of my friends with me, had a fantastic time at Rasika. It scores high in almost all regards.
Some of the dishes I'd recommend:
1) Palak Chaat (crispy spinach, sweet yogurt, tamarind, date chutney): This is a house specialty, and for good reason—it was the best dish I had and quite possibly the best use of spinach I’ve ever seen. It seems deceptively simple, with just four ingredients, but everything just melds so perfectly. The crispiness gives it a nice crunch, but since it’s spinach, it doesn’t feel greasy but rather very light. The yogurt adds an interesting sweetness but also a nice, light, milky coolness to it that gives it a nice contrasting texture. And to top it all off, there’s a fantastic spiciness that kicks in near the end, counterbalancing the sweetness. Combining the sweet, spicy, and crunchy perfectly, this is a near flawless dish. 4.9/5.0
2) Chicken Green Masala (Chicken, mint, coriander, ground spices): This one really just came out of nowhere as one of the most inventive and best tasting foods of the evening. While I prefer the traditional flavors of the chicken makhani, this one is probably the technically more interesting and complex dish. The chicken is absolutely tender, even more so than in the Makhani, and it’s incredibly succulent. Plus, it suits the minty sauce very well, which gives it a nice kick and zestiness. And the sauce itself just makes your taste buds go all over the place. It’s about as spicy as an Indian dish can be, but the mint and coriander act as a perfect counterbalance, giving it a nice cooling freshness that really adds lots of flavor and a great contrast. And it’s a dish you probably won’t find anywhere else, at least not in this form. 4.3/5.0 (higher score if you like spicy or minty foods).
3) Black Cod (Fresh Dill, Honey, Star Anise, Red Wine Vinegar): The specialty of the house, and for good reason. This is a beautifully cooked fish—very tender and succulent, practically falling apart in the mouth. What really stands about Rasika’s dish, though, is how the restaurant takes such a simple fish and turns it into something so flavorful. Not only do you get some of the zest of the dill, but there’s a very nice hint of sweetness from the honey and star anise combo, perpetuating every bite. It’s very light, but still delicious, and I just wish there had been some more. 4.5/5.0.
4) Tawa Baingan (Eggplant, Spiced Potato, Olive Oil, Peanut Sauce): This is an incredible assortment of flavors, giving you spicy, nutty, and smoky all in a delicate mash that is slightly gritty but never muddy. The eggplant is a real knockout, as it’s been charred on the top to give it a nice crispness and smokiness, adding to both the texture and the flavor. The potato mixes nicely too, coming off as rather light, largely because the spice turns attention away from the starchiness. And that lightness continues with the seasoning, a nice mix of olive oil and peanuts, which never overpowers the dish in any way. 4.6/5.0+. Extremely complex and surprisingly balanced.
The rest of the dishes tend to be recommendable, but not nearly as good. Especially disappointing is the dessert variety (as it is at most Indian restaurants), and I'd avoid those desserts in favor of the savory dishes.
Ribeye, specificially Argentine style. It is easily the most flavorful of all the cuts. Unfortunately, it's also the hardest one to get right, with most people killing it to death on the char.
The big three in Peru are Tacama, Tabernero, and Ocucaje.
However, I'd honestly warn against trying the wines, at least from the lower lines. I've tasted and reviewed them, and they're honestly not comparable to anything you'd find in some of the other countries in South America. It's an interesting cultural experience, but don't expect to be impressed in any way.