WINK & NOD

wnnWink & Nod

3 Appleton Street (South End)

It was a jovial crew that met at the South End’s tucked away Wink & Nod in November. This was pre-election, post Halloween, before the holidays, you know…good times. Our destination du jour plays the part of a modern-day speakeasy, but not to a fault. In fact, the quiet door on a seemingly residential street is all quite appealing, and the interior consisting of bar and high tops on one side, and intimate small table settings on the other, surpasses charming. It gets a grown-up grade of Cool.

We arrived in bits and pieces as can be our habit and the host was affable, welcoming us to wait at the bar for our party to complete itself. Upon reflection, we wonder why he didn’t point out that we would be, in effect, sitting at a long table within the bar (which sat unoccupied while we caused all manner of movement this way and that at the bar itself). Honestly, it didn’t bother us but the other patrons were forced to accommodate our ever-growing numbers, and we feel for them.

The bartender at Wink & Nod was superb. We loved his forthrightness (ie, he said when a drink wasn’t worth it) and his timeliness (he saw to our needs, and made efforts to ensure our comfort on the belly-up side). And there was this drink OH MAN that curled our toes (in that good way). No, seriously: Go and get the Holiday in Holland. You should only order one, but if it was a hard day, two should make everything better.

Eventually we found our way to our table (not far–we could feel the annoyed stares from the customers who had moved to make room, and we did feel for them). And it was cozy and private and easy discourse ensued. We ordered a round to keep us company whilst we considered the menu…alas, our waitress took a LONG time. And then one BCC member received a glass of red wine when she had ordered Sauvignon Blanc (easily remedied, sure…except it took 15 more minutes…) But the food. Now, the food was fun.

Wink & Nod is a foster parent of sorts to up-and-coming restauranteurs and fledgling eateries. It hosts a new “restaurant group” every few months, giving them a chance to test their menus and their skills on a clientele they’ve no doubt wooed back time and time again with that Holiday in Holland cocktail (really, it was that good). During our visit we were treated to Nepalese fare: Gita. And overall the BCC enjoyed the meal hugely and recommends going before the rotation means Gita moves on as something new moves in–presumably this happens in January 2017.

Being a largish group with a somewhat piggish tendency, we ordered one of each of the small plates: the Momo (pot stickers with pork, spicy tomato chutney) were tasty; the Lamb Kofta a nice example; the Singara (yes, there was phyllo dough with beef and eggplant) delish; the Puri (lentil, chickpea, potato in pastry) YUM; and the Paneer with Chickpea Salad and Date Chutney simply excellent. The big loser here was the Garlic Cheese Naan, which was hard, tasteless, and a pass. We included a full order of the Butter Chicken (almonds, cashews, cocunut rice), which again brought pleasure as expected.

But while our revolving door of food offerings moved quite satisfyingly, we frequently sat unattended to, with empty drink glasses (Rule Number 1 in service: drinks increase the check total, please the patron and the house, and result in better tips) and no water (and the food had moments of fire!) What we enjoyed in time and privacy we also would have traded for experience in our waitstaff. The restaurant was not overcrowded and there was little reason to be left wanting.

We ended the night ordering one of each of the desserts on the menu and people, let me tell you…if any place can promise you’ll get lucky, this might be it. You can’t help but scrape the plate and lick the spoon…lingeringly. The chocolate cake went to that place that few dare. And it was “ooh la la!” BIG. The mascarpone cheesecake delighted and we dipped into a brulee type dream, but the big winner of the night was a pineapple shortcake that dripped of butter and inspired very sweet dreams indeed. The BCC hesitates not in suggesting a scotch and a sweet at Wink & Nod, whatever night and whatever time it might be.

As to be expected, there was an excellent selection of scotch and bourbon on hand, which satisfied some. But one BCC member desired a White Russian. And as many know, you shouldn’t defy a girl’s wishes right at that moment when she’s just about convinced…that you’re as good as you say you are. It is too bad, then, on several accounts, that the bar chooses not to stock the not-so-rare ingredients necessary to satisfy even one fair maiden’s post-dinner desire. The result is a few cocks short of perfection. Go back, but only if Kahlua isn’t the elixir you have in mind.

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WAYPOINT

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Waypoint

1030 Massachusetts Avenue (Harvard Square)

 

October BCC found us paying our respects to the little sister of another restaurant we have frequented in our food-rich past (see our review of ALDEN & HARLOW here). Upon entering, there were immediately shared family traits: a comfortable clutter in layout and distinct cool hand at decor, for example. Our five-some was seated at a booth for four, with the tricky endcap chair not the best of offerings…but on the bright side it made for easy conversation due to proximity. The long-legged of us struggled beneath the table, however, toes and knees dueling under what we theorized must be a feasting surface cut on the narrow side.

Waypoint is like the edgy twenty-something who fascinates you even as you find his or her antics a little bit ridiculous. The restaurant claims Absinthe (the emasculated kind that doesn’t make you go blind) as its hallmark, with a list of complex concoctions above-the-fold. Several BCC members gave it a go despite few at the table actually finding the promised anise-type flavor appealing in a pre-dinner cocktail. The Riding High and Absinthe Cobbler were duly labeled “interesting.” Would we ever order one again? Not likely when there are so many other delicious options.

The wine list proved impressive and our waitress handled by-the-glass service beautifully, bringing bottles directly to the table for a taste prior to committing and ferrying astute guidance from the bartender. The Dinavolino “orange wine” was a distinct hit with its “oh WOW” dry tartness and earthy undertones. If you like something more than a little different, seek this one out.

We took far longer to decide on dinner than we ever have before. And it is not because the menu is particularly extensive. For the first time ever in our club’s short life, we were faced with doubt and a sense of possibly being overfaced. It is a daring menu, and there is an inherent sexiness to its risks. We were willing to be wooed…but we were nervous, like it was our first time all over again.

Finally we leaned in for the first taste, saying nay to the caviar service and settling on oysters from the raw bar instead (we ordered a dozen but only got five, and in our flustered state, chose to let it go). Next we sampled what would be the winning dish of the night (I know, rather early for the high point): Crab & Avocado (garlic mayo, horseradish gremolata), which was superbly balanced, fresh, and clean, working us into a feverish anticipation for what was next. Some of us found the Housemade Breads with smoked seaweed butter and walnut-anchovy dip excellent—a surprising twist to the typical. Others at the table didn’t care for so much spreadable ocean. The Fried Smelts with pickled ramp remoulade were crunchy, chewy, fishy-chip filler—again, popular with some, unappealing to others.

Waypoint takes the idea of pizza and tips it on its head, offering combinations that left us wondering whether this place was simply working to create a “cool club” who got it…Chopped Clam, Pig’s Face, Smoked Whitefish. We ordered the Market Vegetable with pumpkin, which was hearty, sweet, autumnal, and not unpalatable, but distinctly salty. We also aimed to share the Squid Ink Gemelli (benton’s ham, swordfish lardo, smoked pignola) but the rest of the salt had somehow ended up in this plate. We all agreed it was inedible beyond a bite or two.

We appreciated our waitress’s sincere concern over our obvious distaste for the Gemelli (not a service trait we’ve often experienced in our culinary travels), and assured her we would happily consider dessert. In fact, we were still hungry enough to order ALL the desserts, and did so promptly. Our server brought us the simply fantastic Cinnamon Sugar Donuts (with YUM Fazenda ganache) “on the house” as a lovely, succulent, and much appreciated make-up kiss after the disappointing entree, but sadly hadn’t take on board our request for the other two sweets. Having been gifted the one, we decided to call it a night, and honestly wished what was in other ways some of the finest service we’ve experienced hadn’t been marred by two incorrect orders.

At the end we all still felt unsure of our experience. Most members appreciated what was clearly an effort to break from norms and expectations, and enough of our meal had brought interesting flavors to our tongues to feel it was a worthwhile night on the town. We agreed it couldn’t be a go-to—it is more likely a date-night location than a regular haunt—and don’t be surprised if you feel a little like you have to impress Waypoint with your adventurousness, rather than the other way around.

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cock-rating-3-851

 

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TOWNSMAN

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TOWNSMAN

120 Kingston Street, Boston (Chinatown)

It has been, tragically, months since the BCC met on official terms, although quite a number of “off-the-record” outings occurred since our last review. Blame it on family, blame it on work, blame it on those three-day weekends people bizarrely insist on spending somewhere other than downtown—whatever the reason, it was a long, damnably dry summer.

So boy did we need a cocktail.

On September 29, BCC members met at Townsman, desperate for a raised glass and a means of evading reality for an hour or two. This just-over-a-year-old self-appointed “brasserie” sparkles with newness still. The warm orange interior and welcoming open kitchen can’t offset the mainstream feel of the decor. Paired with the high ceilings and overly formal hostesses, the entrance feels cold, although it admittedly warmed up as the streets darkened outside and the bar filled up with the convivial suits who worked within walking distance.

Our round wooden table by the extra-large windows felt very private, despite the restaurant’s growing crowd, and its shape and location made for easy conversation and a certain seated comfort we haven’t always found with a larger group. Our first round of cocktails were admittedly a resounding success. The Countess was what we think of as the perfect hostess: tart with a delicious bite, and persuasive enough to get us all to lean in for a sip. The Lion’s Tail brazenly mated allspice and bourbon with laudable results, and the 2015 Ernesto Picollo “Gavi” was the perfect measure of cool and dry that promised to pair well, wherever our appetites took us. And the Notch Pilsner, a group favorite, made a not unwelcome appearance with its balance and fair allotment of alcohol for a “school night.”

The hearty brown bread and YUM spiced butter danced on our table only long enough to cue salivation. Our hopes were high following this rustic teaser, but the charcuterie could have done us better. The Lomo and Bresaola were tasty treats tucked in the midst of mini biscuits (okay, points to the house), fried pickles (weren’t amazing), and rather meek portions of our chosen cheeses (Oma and Twig Tomme). Perhaps we are gluttonous in our sisterhood, but we might argue the want for a bit more on a platter such as this.

For dinner we went with the usual BCC share, ordering a smattering (albeit a significant one) of wildly varying dishes and sharing them in order to experience and dissect the flavors to our savage hearts’ content. Our choices came out fairly quickly and we thought well-timed, overall, with a nice flow in terms of entrance and exit…but sadly, we can’t say we were huge fans of much that made up our decadent food parade.

The Fish Cakes with chorizo and sweet chilies were unremarkable, and the Fried Dumplings (highly anticipated) left us with a single impression: fried. The Moules Frites and Cottage Fries were completely forgettable. Except that they didn’t come with a spoon (with which to indulge in the juice, of course…) The special menu item of Buckwheat Pancakes with Snails was different, but not ooh-la-la, and the Seared Cape Scallops were an epic fail—undercooked and gelatinous to the point of major turnoff.

The Deviled Eggs with Fried Capers were a right touch in the midst of other fumbles: almost soft boiled with fabulous texture, they were delicately seasoned to the point of delish. The Pear Sausage also pleased, with long, strong flavors and size that mattered in a night of small plates. We also were fascinated by the Crispy Shishito Peppers that came alive before our eyes (you’ll just have to order them to see what we mean) and an addictive quality that left us concerned for potential withdrawal the next day. But Shishito Peppers does not a dinner make.

The service at Townsman was a little like spending all day at the beach…for a while, the water was very close and it took very little effort to cool down, chill out, and enjoy ourselves, but then the tide went out and well…it took ages to get our third round of drinks. The backwaiters get props for a well-choreographed performance of serving, clearing, and resetting—there was a legion of them, and they really were very good. But that blank spot in the middle left us frustrated and wondering if Townsman wanted us like we thought it did, or if it was perfectly okay never seeing us again.

And dessert? Cheese ice cream tempted no one. But the Bailey’s substitute fed the sweet tooth so all was forgiven. This time.

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cock-rating-3-25

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BUKOWSKI TAVERN & UNI

Uni

BUKOWSKI TAVERN & UNI

50 Dalton Street / 370 Commonwealth (Boston)

Admittedly, only three members bellied up to Bukowski’s bar prior to the May BCC #BosCock meeting, but it still rates a mention in our review because…well…it’s Bukowski’s. How do we love thee? Let us count the ways: a fine array of brews, from cask to can; the wheel that you spin, joyfully and without hesitation; the tunes you may not have heard before, but hope to hear again; the bartenders, who would never call themselves mixologists; the White Trash Cheese Dip, just because; and the fact that it is cash only (really, that is a selling point). And why was it the pitch-perfect pitstop prior to the centerpiece of our evening (a meal down the street and around the corner)? Because it stands unapologetically on the other side of the bridge.

Our approach to Uni involved dodging post-work-Wellies and raincoats as we squinted unhappily through the rather unwelcome drizzle. But then, before us, stood the elaborately decorated door that indicated our destination had been reached. We all immediately loved the vibe: take sexy hotel lounge, add a dose of sweet 90s hiphop, and shake that thang with potent and colorful drinks. We joined those of our group who had already set up shop, beginning with cocktails at the bar. And here, yes, we had a mixologist who took himself as seriously as I suppose you should when you wield eyedroppers and measuring cups more often than you tug on tap handles. But to be fair, perhaps the title was well earned…he produced a FABULOUS beverage.

Every once in a while you get a drink that, well, is the reason why we drink. These cocktails were, in a word, delicious. Favorites included the El Diablo (tequila, cassis, lime, ginger, soda) which meant El Dangerouso since it went down VERY easily. BCC members characterized it as “refreshing,” “spicy,” “sweet,” “perfect.” The Mint Julep was served in a bodacious silver shaker with a tantalizing glaze of frost and a “HELLO” giant sprig of mint—a bold choice that seemed open to being shared, and we passed it along from member to member throughout the pre-dinner portion of the night. We also sampled a wondrous concoction, complete with hibiscus garnish—the Tropical Itch started delightfully sweet with a bitter/sour and dry finish.  Each sip was like a first kiss that gets serious. (And who doesn’t like that?)

We could have sat at the bar for another hour clucking like chickens, but our half-moon-shaped banquette nested our group nicely in a corner with a view of the rest of the dining room and a misty Mass Ave. The hostess was quite eager to seat us and very friendly—but BCC members found our server less than helpful. He looked stunned when we asked him to tell us a bit about several items on the menu, and frankly, he seemed annoyed by our presence most of the evening. If you have ever been on a blind date where one side or the other doesn’t “get” what he or she expected, well, it was a lot like that: he kept his contributions to a minimum, as if hoping that our time together would end sooner if he gave us the cold shoulder. Unfortunately for him, we were all in to see it through all the way to dessert. (After all, we were paying.)

We tamed our drink habits a tad at the table, with a misordered Gewurztraminer  that was presumed a match for spicy menu items, but went way too far down the spiral to sweet, a perfectly nice Chardonnay that was priced perfectly outrageously, and a martini that was less than impressive (ordered multiple olives, got one; ordered extra dirty, wasn’t—had to order a side of olive juice).

Each member ordered two to three dishes to share, as is our custom. The Uni menu is certainly extensive, overwhelmingly so. Where to go? Cold? Hot? Sushi? Not? We started with Brussels Sprouts that amounted to charred goodness, mixed with bright dill and other herbs.  An interesting flavor (“like potato chips you just can’t stop eating,” admitted one member, her mouth full). We’ll substitute grilled Brussels Sprouts for lame old Lays any day of the week.

The Spicy Tuna Roll lived up to its name. We agreed it was one of the best we’ve ever had, scantily dressed in a spicy sauce that had a serious kick and a lasting heat. Spoiler alert: It is served with a side of onions disguised as pickled ginger, which took a few of us by surprise as we chomped down. The Wagyu Beef Dumplings (cheddar dashi, braised lettuce) were fairly forgettable and a mystery dish with a heavy tomato-based sauce that we all agreed was not worth the presumed calories. The Asian Cheesy Corn with shrimp crackers got a nod, but thumbs down on the Japanese Milk Bread, which impressed no one. The group collectively enjoyed the Chang Mai Duck Carnitas (green papaya salsa, scallion pancake, cucumber), our official acknowledgment of Cinco de Mayo, Japanese-BosCock style.

The star centerfold of the evening was the Green Curry Crab Fried Rice (burdock root, egg, sesame), and it even came as a hefty portion that enabled us all to sample a sizeable several bites. Full of bold flavor with a lively kick and superb balance. Highly recommended.

We sampled all three desserts, including a “milky cereal” that L.L himself would be proud of. Want it straight? We’d save dessert for home if dining here. But there’s no reason you shouldn’t get in the mood at Uni first.

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Hojoko & Tiger Mama

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Hojoko & TigerMama

1271 Boylston / 1363 Boylston (Fenway)

It’s been a while since we linked the words Crazy-Sexy-Cool together in a single sentence, and with full-on props to TLC’s humble beginnings, we’re going to go ahead and attach all three adjectives to the March ’16 BCC meeting. In honor of the holiday that happened to bedazzle our date of choice, we did indeed go out for drinks, but we turned the leprechaun on his head in our choice of venue, beginning our night by sidling up to the Fenway’s Verb Hotel bar rather than the generally prescribed South Boston pub.

Hojoko is a “Japanese tavern” with hipster kitch, tripping on bright colors and Hello Kitty, but in a way that titillates rather than annoys. The gregarious bartenders gave us a shock when—in a city where haughty “mixologists” rarely deign to acknowledge your physical presence, never mind smile and make idle conversation—they joyfully (yes, really) welcomed us to their not uncrowded establishment and gave us the inside scoop on ordering unusual drinks in fun, tiki-style glassware. Combining a certain amount of showmanship with (OMG!) laughing and (NO way!) the occasional friendly gambit not only indicated they were having a good time behind the bar and cared that you had chosen to spend a few hours in their company, but they might actually be fun to hang out with in general. This old-fashioned kind of barkeep-flirtation was the perfect way to set up a long night in each others’ company.

We loved the design of the drink menu and the nice array of cocktails, beers, and sake, while admiring the brightly colored drinks prepped for the masses in serving tanks—complete with floating toys inside. Some favorites concocted by our bearded, tattooed man ‘o the hour included a tasty but VERY strong MaiTai (honestly, pretty safe to say all drinks were strong), a Dark&Stormy with a badass bite, a sweet and pretty Pina Colada with a bar-side toasted marshmallow, and spicy frozen daquiri topped with Nerds that was not only enjoyable because Nerds rock, but also because it deserves accolades for accessing that hard-to-reach place that gets you all warm and tingly while making you shiver uncontrollably at the same time (oh, baby, yeah!). Overall? Hojoko is a one of those great dates that deliver: cute, fun, engaging, with one hell of a “Oh, no reason” kiss. An A+ for after-work drinks for all you crazy-sexy-cool kids who are looking for a good time, sans pretension.

A short and admittedly cocktail-chatty amble down Boylston brought us to our culinary complement to our early St. Patty’s Day drinks: We stayed true to the Asian theme with TigerMama, although the restaurant hosted a far more sophisticated feel than Hojoko. The vertical garden, neon lights, and wooden lanterns provided ambiance that geared us up rather than tuned us down. A Vietnamese street gone Hollywood. Not a huge space, and perhaps a tad overcrowded by encroaching palm branches that while providing privacy, table to table, interfered with some necessary transit to and from the kitchen (and for us) the ladies’ room.

Although we had a reservation, we had to wait at the hostess station for five minutes or so without anyone informing us that they were setting up our table. While, in our Hojoko-cocktail-fueled state, we were perfectly happy to entertain ourselves with the mosaic-mirrored baby elephant at the door, we would have liked a more organized greeting and better service at the front of the house. The table we eventually sat at wasn’t ideal, either, with two members on  endcaps that, when combined with the stop-and-go traffic patterns caused by the overeager greenery, made them feel a bit like speed bumps on a busy Cambridge side street.

But awkward beginnings can be overcome, and our pleasant, bright, and attentive server was immediately on-hand and happy to bring us beverages as we considered the night’s food options. One member went for cocktails and wasn’t overly impressed, but TigerMama has a pretty decent list of beer and wine to choose from, including traditional offerings and tasty pairings that weren’t meant to be the highlight of the meal as much as to highlight the meal itself.

The menu, as so many are these days, is designed to be shared plates, building from smaller and lighter fare to heavier dishes. Apps are usefully classified as “Cold & Fresh” and “Crispy & Spicy” so you can address the particular needs of your palate appropriately. The Bun Cha Hanoi (crispy pork rolls, sour broth, grilled pork patties, lettuce, and herbs) had potential to be a delightfully tasty dish, but the server who dropped this dish at our table failed to explain how to eat it (the lettuce wraps were buried under the pile of fresh herbs), so we picked at it in semi-confusion and sacrificed the unique combination of tastes for inept sampling. The Southern-Style Pork Laap (lime-spiked hand ground pork, thai chili, mint) was SUPER SPICY and the wok-roasted okra was Tasty with a capital “T.” The texture (tricky with okra) was fabulous and while it again brought the heat, it wasn’t over the top. A great dish for sharing and just gazing at, if you’re a fan of vegetarian-variety eye candy. The Short Rib Rendang was a tender, delicious, coconuty treat that again won admiration for presentation.

Even though it was recommended that we get two to three dinner dishes each, members went for one apiece (note that the recommendation would have been way too much). It was, admittedly, hard to narrow it down as everything truly looked delicious, but the Sticky Lamb Ribs, Lamb Roti, and street noodles set off fireworks by turns, and the surprise of the night was the Pad Thai—a thoroughly unadventurous choice but we figured a good marker of the restaurant’s quality if it stood out from all the other PTs we’ve ordered over the years via Foodler. It was the dinner-and-a-movie dish of the night: when your date can blow you away in a totally mundane and obvious scenario, it is probably worth doing it again. Let’s just say we would have missed most of the movie—the Pad Thai was that good.

We almost didn’t get dessert because from the description on the menu, they looked pretty standard. Talk about a lesson in open-mindedness! These were two of the best-tasting creations we have—literally—ever tasted. The Milk Toast was sent from heaven…with wings of butter, condensed milk, and coconut cream. COME ON! And then there was the rich and luscious whipped coconut cream over tart mango and sweet coconut sticky rice—the perfect post-coital smoke following a spicy meal. We wanted to climb inside and bathe in this mixture like Roman gods.

With its raucous and off-beat beginning and divinely sweet and satisfying end, this night was damn close to 5-cockworthy. Crazy. Sexy. Cool.
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4.8

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