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Type: Italian
Prices: Appetizers, salads: $7- $14; pasta, risotto: $15-$24 (for two); entrees: $21-$28; desserts: $8-$13 (tarts for two).
Good choices: Grilled pizzas; clams Al Forno; shrimp with asparagus; cannaroni, pork sugo; halibut or cod with Swiss chard; brine-cured pork chops; strawberry-rhubarb tart; pear gratin; cookie finale.
Hours: Lunch: Monday-Sat., 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m.; intermezzo menu (pizza,desserts) 3-5 p.m.; dinner, Mon.-Sat., 5-10 p.m.
No reservations.
No smoking.
Credit cards: All major.
Access: Fully accessible.
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CAFE LOUIS
234 Berkeley Street, Boston
(617) 266-4680
Restaurant reviewed 06/29/98 by Alison Arnett
The color is everything in the new life of Cafe Louis, a resplendent vernal green that is somehow distinct, more beautiful than any of the other pale greens so popular right now. It's especially arresting because, otherwise, the decor is minimal, almost stark, in this small, high-ceilinged adjunct to the Louis clothing store. The better, one thinks in the middle of a meal, to direct one's attention to the plate. That's the genius of Joanne Killeen and George Germon, who've brought a slice of their famed Providence restaurant, Al Forno, to Boston. A reading of the menu reveals nothing too exotic, nothing the informed frequenter of Italian restaurants couldn't identify.
But the first taste of oven-poached cod, snowy white and plump above a bed of braised Swiss chard, dispels any preconceived idea of plainness, of ennui. This, I think, savoring one more bite, is the way this noble fish should taste - and rarely does. Killeen and Germon have long practiced a special narrowing of focus, paring down nonessentials to distill a purity of flavor. They reopened Cafe Louis in April after the previous chef, Michael Schlow, moved on to plan for his own restaurant. They chose as chef David Reynoso, who at 27 years old seems to share their vision and shows unusual discipline in an era of extravagance, of piling up exotic extras and layering for visual effect. In a phone interview, Reynoso said that only three ingredients were necessary for the native fish dish, which varies according to the best of the market: the fish, chard, and olive oil. ``I want people to taste all three,'' and only that, he says. So the fish is delicately oven-poached, the chard braises in its own juices, and the olive oil is exemplary, a perfect foil.
All the best dishes here show this singlemindedness, although some are more fanciful. Clams Al Forno, one of Germon's classics, are perfect little morsels in a tongue-tingling spicy, tomato-laced broth. An apple and arugula salad is very simple in taste, a lemony vinaigrette balancing the sweet and sharp tastes, but whimsical in appearance with the apples stacked in an interlocking tower, interspersed with finely chopped greens. The famous Al Forno thin-crusted grilled pizzas are wonderful; no matter how often others do variations, these set the standard. One, a pizza bianca with spinach and gorgonzola - is heady with garlic and the tang of the cheese, yet the spinach and generous dousings of olive oil cool the tongue. A more traditional pizza margarita with tomatoes, Romano, and just the hint of spicy chilies is also delicious.
Reynoso, a native of Mexico who previously opened a Disney restaurant in Orlando and had cooked in Chicago, says although many of the dishes originated in Al Forno, others on the menu are his. His appetizer of shrimp with chunks of asparagus is lyrical, the shrimp so delicately poached as to be almost translucent. They really taste like shrimp, which may sound like an odd thing to say, but believe me shrimp are not supposed to taste like limp dishrags or to have the chewy heft of meat, as they often do. Again, this dish, spiked with olive oil and lemon juice, illustrates the less-is-more philosophy.
That's not to say that only Louis's patrons wanting to fit into size 4 pencil-slim trousers would want to eat here. An antipasto platter is filled with olives and great prosciutto, a tasty wedge of artichoke torta, some eggplant caponata, and amazingly good shredded carrot salad.
Main courses are also generous, from a couple of very tender brine-cured pork chops to a robust baby chicken stuffed with bruschetta and bits of Italian bacon. And there are always mashed potatoes to order as a side, a dish brought into restaurant popularity years ago at Al Forno. Nothing slender about these - one can taste the butter rolling in with each bite.
Probably the most arresting dish, though, was a special one evening of barbecued spare ribs. Dark and crispy, molasses-kissed, these were irresistible. Even a meat-eschewing Californian visitor couldn't resist them, as she nibbled one after another of the slightly sweet, slightly hot morsels, murmuring that they tasted exactly like her grandmother's.
The only part of the menu that seems to lack some verve are the pastas. Cannaroni, thick shortish tubes with chunks of pork, shavings of pecorino Romano, and a savory sauce based on the pork juices, is a lovely, fortifying dish. But a special of wide lasagna noodles with a meat sauce has some spice but is boring after a few bites. And the lasagnette with roasted asparagus really seems too spare.
It does leave room, however for dessert, which must be selected at the time you order the rest of the meal. A strawberry-rhubarb tart, just baked and bubbling with its juices, disappears quickly as the three of us tangle forks trying to get maximum tastes. A pear gratin with the lightest imaginable creme Anglaise is glorious and meets the same quick fate. The cookie platter with all sorts of crisp goodies - chocolate chip cookies and molasses and a tiny butter cookie plus meltingly good ricotta fritters - is almost too much for three of us to finish. Only a ``croque mademoiselle,'' a version of French toast with a thin filling of chocolate, fails to enchant me, somehow tasting too much of fried butter that unpleasantly coats the tongue.
Cafe Louis, like its parent restaurant, has a couple of idiosyncrasies that can throw a neophyte for a loop. One is the fact that no reservations are taken, making this small room in Back Bay a risky spot to depend on for a meal. One must either arrive very early or plan to wait. Luckily, there's a pleasant little bar, but like the rest of the 48-seat restaurant, little is the operative word. Another is the dessert-ordering policy that relies on prompting by a waiter or waitress to clue in the diner.
Herein lies the rub. On one visit, everything seemed out of kilter; the waiter was obviously overwhelmed with too many tables to cover, and a couple of food runners wandered aimlessly between tables. Time lagged between courses, and although we'd been clued in about desserts and the waiter assured us he'd put the order in on time, our party had run out of conversation and almost out of patience by the time they arrived. On other visits, however, particularly the most recent, the wait staff was friendly, helpful, and quick to explain or amplify the menu and the wine list. It makes all the difference here.
Reynoso's simplicity, buttressed by Killeen's and Germon's likeminded philosophy, bodes well for Cafe Louis. His is a leaner style than the sometimes richer food at Al Forno, but it fits well with the size and the location of the restaurant. And the emphasis remains on essential flavors, always the best of starting places.
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