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A shot of Bourbon in Cambridge
Last week Porter Square got a shot of something some may say it doesn't need, but I beg to differ: More Coffee! DC-based Bourbon Coffee opened in the Porter Exchange building on the first floor where The Gap once stood.
It's not as big as the disappearing jeans outfitter, but much more sprawling than your average indie cafe. As a purist I tried a dark roast from Rwanda, where all the beans here hail. They will offer pourovers and requisite milk drinks too. I'm happy to report that my first experience with Bourbon brew was clean and velvety with plenty of caffeine to keep me up all night and stay good and groggy the next day — that's what I get for pulling over on Mass Ave at 8 p.m. and crashing a soft opening. But the cafescenti has been waiting for the "crop to cup" cafe to open since last Christmas. Christ, has it been that long?
I met Bourbon's general manager Bosco Munga (above), a delightful man who has deep knowledge of the local coffee scene. And knows how to rock a Big and Tall suit. Stop by while he's still in town for a crash course on Rwandan joe.
Now that Bourbon is pouring the nectar of the African goddesses, this stretch of Mass Ave is getting quite muddy. With the beloved Simon's Coffee House (George Howell's fave) a block away and Hi-Rise bakery doing the third-wave dance directly across from Starbucks, this "square" rivals Harvard for espresso love. A good place to stay up all night. Now all we need is a 24-hour movie theater.
If it's not Scottish it's crap
The immortal words of Mike Myers followed me into The Haven in Jamaica Plain last week as a sea of Highland plaids, greens and a man in a kilt greeted us.
It was my first visit to the newish Scottish pub and I immediately knew this could be a favorite hang. We sat at the snug, but not cramped, bar and did the only sensible thing, ordered two pints of Bellhaven stout. Scotland's finest ale is deep-hued and velvety with a lingering honey sweetness. Upon first sip, I finally understood beer geekdom. The transcendent ale made our holiday shopping fatigue disappear in a Glasgow minute. Another fine choice is the lighter Notch Saison.
There were two bald headed gents at the bar talking in a Trainspotting tongue, eating crisps and watching a soccer game on the telly. The Scottish theme here is not in name-only. Owner Jason (did not catch his last name, but let's go with McClure for the sake of this post) is straight from the UK and yes wears a kilt and a friendly smile. By this point we were in such a good way it mattered little how the grub was. Or even if there was more beyond the complimentary oatcakes.
Everything is made in house, down to the dense wholewheat morsels they start you off with. We split a Scottish egg, a Haven must! The yoke did not run and we did not care. This is the most nourishing bar food on the all-things-Scottish menu. This deep-fried egg nestled in rice with a taut shell was tucked into a bed of micorgreens. A dollop of devilish mustard added a gourmet flourish. The beginning of a perfect winter repast.
The chicken bangers (white puddings) and garlic mash I ordered with braised kale kept me merry and bright. My mate's fish platter was a fresh cut of cod (or haddock?) fried without excess grease, chips and served with terrific minty peas. Better than it sounds. The mulled wine, lacking in aromatics and a tad bitter, was the only down note, but it still cheered us on a cold night. Nothing is crap here, nothing.
Hat trick in Harvard
Jostling through the well-dressed college students in the Square yesterday, the hand-stenciled " fine felts, handwoven straws, caps" sign caught my eye. I wasn't in the market for a topper, I was on the way to interview some campus wonks, but these retro lids gave me pause. The steam-punk-meets-steam-ship window, festooned with suitcases, trunks and hats, had me inside tossing hand-crafted caps atop my head faster than Mary Tyler Moore (circa 197o opening sequence). A fan of chapeaus since meeting my hat-happy husband, I have long nursed a jones for head gear. But his ill-fitting Tam O'Shanters left me looking like the odd boy out in The Little Rascals. I now have a place to worship. And shop!
The San Francisco-based Goorin Bros. exudes the new style — depression-era chic in great fabrics made in America. All hats are unisex, but styles are gender specific. I hope this doesn't mean we'll see fops donning cloches along Newbury street this winter.
Some of the straw hats are blocked in Fall River, shop owner Chanelle John (above) tells me, while most of the production is done in Jersey. Keeping the economy humming, our heads warm and dapper is no small hat trick. Umpteen styles like the checkered Gatsby with ear flaps and feisty fedoras with zippy ribbons are fashioned out of Harris tweeds and Woolrich prints. Some call to mind the grainy photos of your grandfather sledding down the hills of the Berkshires on a Flexible Flyer.
The company has been around since 1895 and is making inroads in Brooklyn, the West Village, Cambridge and wherever thirdwave coffeeshops thrive. With so much fashion on high, could milners be the new brewers?
Hard to resist the mighty Quinn
I have been popping corn the same old way since I graduated from Jiffy Pop, in a hand-cranked popper on the stove. I've loved this time-tested method, but the kernels I've been using (Market Basket special) started to underwhelm. When I heard about Quinn Popcorn last spring, I was intrigued. A new microwave popcorn in gourmet flavors such as Rosemary Parmesan in chemical-free bags.
All the more fascinating, it's made in my old hood —Arlington. When I interviewed founders Kristy and Coulter Lewis in their stater home in the Heights for a recent Boston Globe article, I was charmed further. These 30 year olds went full-tilt into the experiment to build better microwave popcorn. Singular in their mission, they tried scores of spices, kernels, oils and experimented with bags.
Exhaustive and exhausted, the new parents of the eponymous and adorable Quinn, hit upon the winning combination that went to market last month. Believe me when I tell you this stuff is a pop above. I've tried all three, including lemon sea salt — tangy, subtle and pure, like a lemonade and popcorn pairing on a summer's day. My least favorite is Vermont maple. Although I love all things from VT, sweet popcorn is just wrong.
If you don't have a microwave, take it out of the bag and get busy on the stove. The results are just as fine. Suggested paring: with Casablanca and a loved one on the couch.
Dropping some Johnny A-seed
Some people lose weight in the summer, because they eat light. I tend to shed a few in the fall because all I want are apples, raw and unadorned.
You know when someone takes a sip of a killer craft ale or epic wine and lets out a refreshing "ahhhh"? That's me bite after life-giving bite. The snap, the crunch the sweet juice that explodes ... it's finally fall and the picking is easy.
First off, you don't have to be six or have children to enjoy an hour in the orchard. Don't let the breeders have all the fun. Grab a peck and go. I make the pilgrimage to Phil's every autumn because it is small, family run, not commercial and blessed with the finest apples in Johnny Appleseed Country. This Yankee nurtures his trees like children and will tell you where the best Honey Crisps are hiding (in the split tree behind a wall of Macouns).
You'll find Phil crushing drops into the nectar of the Gods on his screened in porch on the weekends. Leave without a gallon of unpasteurized cider at your your peril. Follow the handwritten signs off route 2 and enter Eden.
Swellesley gets a new swirl
Pinkberry is making serious inroads in Greater Boston and Wellesley is the next spot on the swirl map. Next month Linden Square is the lucky home of this addictive frozen yogurt. I happened to be in Wellesley taking a froyo break yesterday and stopped into Truly Yogurt. Although I respect the hard-working proprietor, the flavors — vanilla, chocolate and kaluha — spanked 1992. But the tiny shop was mobbed with strollers, seniors and the odd office worker. Now with news that the celeb du jour yogurt is opening across town, Truly's gotta step up its game. These flavors can't compete with green tea, blood orange, pomegranate and ... salted caramel. I braved a line (10-deep) at Harvard Square recently because I couldn't wait another minute to find out what has Kirsten Dunst and Lenny Kravitz so transfixed. Now I know.
This is yogurt of a higher caliber. I thought I was done with the salted caramel trend. But when sweet and savory meets cold and creamy something delicious this way comes. Pinkberry opens in Swells August 5, right next to a Starbucks. Coincidence? SBUX CEO Howard Schultz is an investor. Can a pinkberry frappaccino be too far behind? Make mine a venti.
Let freedom ring
Looking for Jimmy's Harborside because the line at the No Name is too long? It's time to get reacquainted with Boston's waterfront.
With each passing balmy night, the months-old Liberty Wharf gains ground on the Back Bay and South End dining scenes. The best way to get up to speed on Boston's top-nosh zone is to hop a water taxi to the Northern Ave Marina. No, you don't need a power boat to dine on this dock, but it may help as public transpo is scarce (this is Silver Line territory) and parking is $10 an hour. Ouch baby!
Of the four dining options on this stationary, mod, mod cruise ship, the flagship Legal Harborside is the most tourist-ready. Unless you relish waiting in line with your fellow, sweaty Americans, don't visit Fourth of July weekend.
Mexican cantina Temazcal, with iPad menus and lobster guacamole (where have you been all my life?), is a close second. There's 300 tequilas, including the prized blue bottle, at the bar. Which agave nectar makes the best margarita? There's only one way to find out.
The retro Del Frisco's is a nod to Jimmy's, the Boston institution that held down this wharf for decades, and is the room to book when you're ready to close the big deal. I lunched at Temazcal last week and while the tacos were tasty, and the guac presentation worthy of an ICA show, the view was even better.
If the NBA and NFL lockouts stick, Jerry Remy's may be the closest you'll get to game day action. Barbecue, burgers and beer always go down easy. In short, it doesn't really matter what you eat on this wharf, chowder or tamales, the boats skipping over from Eastie will keep you sated long after you've dropped anchor. Every seat's a winner. Think Monday if you want to snag a table.
The retro Del Frisco's is a nod to Jimmy's, the Boston institution that held down this wharf for decades, and is the room to book when you're ready to close the big deal. I lunched at Temazcal last week and while the tacos were tasty, and the guac presentation worthy of an ICA show, the view was even better.
If the NBA and NFL lockouts stick, Jerry Remy's may be the closest you'll get to game day action. Barbecue, burgers and beer always go down easy. In short, it doesn't really matter what you eat on this wharf, chowder or tamales, the boats skipping over from Eastie will keep you sated long after you've dropped anchor. Every seat's a winner. Think Monday if you want to snag a table.
Walk the plank. The night club-y entrance to Temazcal belies the azure waters ahead.
Ice, ice baby
Not all coffees go down easy when poured over ice. After several summers of DIY cold cupping, I've tested them all. Because a freelance writer can't nip into Starbucks or Dunks every time the sun hits, determining the best brew is crucial to summer survival. Every time I pour my morning dregs over ice I save an easy $2.50, allowing me to put this cool cash toward something else — like better beans! As a new summer dawns, my quest to find the perfect iced coffee continues.
Some blends play better chilled than others. My morning brew for the past month, an organic Equal Exchange blend, is perfectly OK in my glass tumbler. It's much more palatable after emerging from the French press piping hot. Why does it crap out when cubed?
One of the best iced coffee is the Queen Anne blend from Cafe Ladro in Seattle. Superb when iced, dripping with more flavor than an a.m. drip. It's worth debating which beans are best iced and which brewing method reigns supreme. I've come around on medium brews, like Pacific Rim by Whole Foods, as an overall, season by season winner. I'm not up to speed on the double brew, cold press situation, seems too advanced and a tad geeky for a home barista.
It's going to be a long hot summer and somedays iced coffee is the only way through. How do you keep your coffee chill?
New target: Area Four
Just past Central Square on the edge of Kendall, a new culinary district is starting to emerge. Area Four, as this neighborhood is known, has been formerly home to low-income housing and biotech companies. Such hybrids are ripe for reinvention say resta-preneurs Michael Leviton and Michael Krupp who opened Area Four last month.
The eponymous bistro/wine bar/cafe is leading the dining migration east of swinging Central Square. Located on the first floor of Technology Square, Area Four will be followed by Catalyst across the courtyard in August. When I visited last week I expected a better -than-average bakery/cafe filled with iPad-toting technoratis. What I found was a three-tier enterprise with wood-fired ovens ablaze and an evolved wine bar about to pop. Because it was mid-day I side-stepped the third-wave cafe brewing Barrington Coffee by baristas strong on talent and short on pretension, in favor of sweat pea hummus (as sublime as it sounds) and margherita pizza in the bar.
The excitement flowing from the owners to the bar manager to the hostess was hard not to love. This joint reminds me of what Tom Douglas is doing in Seattle's tech district — South Lake Union. When I visited Grunge City last month, the Amazon campus was anchored by great cafes like Zoka, and restaurants like Brave Horse Tavern. Food and technology is a heady mix.
I should mention that Area Four will have 10 wines on tap, which will be served by tumbler or carafe. Good news to grapenuts who like vino with a meal and are not hung up on labels. Prices will be a refreshing $6 to $8 a glass and top $38 for a liter. Something to cheer about. As of last week no liquor license yet.
Eat naked
It's almost summer and chillin' by the pool is back with a vengeance. If you're going to drop your drawers that doesn't mean you must forgo favorites like pizza. In the Brighton/Brookline nexus a new company called Naked Pizza delivers quality pie without the extra lbs. Look at CEO Peter Biro (below), a healthy specimen who happens to love fast food.
He doesn't look obese and the man eats za four times a week. He knows that natural food is good food and good food is good for you. One slice of Naked Pizza, made with a probiotic crust and non-modified toppings, is not greasy, oily or loaded with "freaky ingredients," said Biro. I guess I shouldn't have been shocked when he showed me a snapshot of an employee at a large pizza chain with a can of spray-on-butter to make that "authentic golden crust."
I had a slice of Naked Pizza in the sleek lime green Brighton Corner shop (where iPads await your perusal) last week and after a few bites something happened. I felt energized, not droopy, ready to hit the Charles for a five mile run. Ok three miles. With less calories than a Lara Bar, Naked Pizza is safe for moms, families and anyone who wants to eat fast and fabulously. Perfect summer paring: Four Vines Naked Chardonnay, pants optional.