eat
253 Washington Street, Somerville
(617) 776-2889
Restaurant reviewed 02/19/98 by Adam Pertman
When this charming neighborhood restaurant opened in Union Square in November 1996, its concept was as simple as its lower-case name: to offer homestyle food at affordable prices in a warm, eclectic setting.
So much for going downscale.
Today, while the place looks and feels pretty much the same (which is a good thing), eat boasts a new chef, a more creative menu, and slightly higher prices. For the most part, the result is a better dining experience.
Brian Moulton, formerly the sous chef at Les Zygomates and saucier at Maison Robert, has teamed up with owner Charlie Robinson to concoct a wonderfully accessible - meaning short - menu full of nice flourishes. Moreover, they've done it without giving in to the 1990s temptation to fuse one too many ingredients or cultures on a single plate.
Moulton's easy-to-take style carries over to his seasonings as well, producing dishes that typically are more subtle than their froofier or bolder counterparts at some trendier restaurants.
One of the standouts was a velvety blackened mako shark, which arrived on a bed of less-interesting but flavorful basmati rice and black beans.
Shark is such a firm, meaty fish that you can get away with overcooking it a bit before it gets tough, but Moulton seared it so expertly that his version emerged buttery-smooth. And his own blend of cayenne/cumin-based blackening spices succeeded in giving the shark some bite without overwhelming it with heat.
Another fine example of eat's less-is-more approach was the tender balsamic pork chop with sweet potatoes. A touch of molasses added just the right yin to the yang of the vinegar glaze on the meat, while a healthy (OK, make that deliciously unhealthy) dose of butter and cream gave the sweet potatoes a hearty richness that few cholesterol-watchers would dare to duplicate at home.
Two of the appetizers merited similarly high praise: the home-made ravioli, which were filled with a mixture of brie and oyster and portabella mushrooms, then poached in veal stock and presented with some of the stuffing and truffle oil; and the warm onion tart, a classic French presentation of caramelized onions, black olives, and diced tomatoes on a buttery baked shell.
Put that kind of stuff together, and what could be bad?
In fact, the folks at eat get credit for trying to do things right from the start. They prepare their own veal, chicken, seafood, and beef stocks for cooking and sauces; they serve only pastas that they make themselves; and they even butcher their own fish so the cuts come out the way they want.
The decor of eat can be described as yard sale elegance - mismatched plates and cutlery sitting neatly on white tablecloths, lake-cabin sconces shedding romantically dim light on richly colored walls. Some of the small touches are particularly charming; stenciled on the doggy bags, for instance, is the word "ate."
The ambience fits perfectly into the overall sense of understatement that Robinson works hard to achieve in his restaurant, from the food to the feel to the service. There's a danger in walking a tightrope of subtlety, however, and eat sometimes loses its balance.
While nothing on the menu stumbled into mediocrity, several items weren't as good as they could be. Or, maybe more to the point, they were just not as good as they sound.
Probably the best example of this was the spinach fettuccini with lobster and garlic. The lobster was poached in a made-from-scratch lobster stock, and the pasta had been kneaded just hours earlier, so why was the completed product simply good instead of dazzling?
Likewise for the seafood paella, an authentic rendition populated by fresh mussels, shrimp, shark, and spicy andouille sausage, all resting on basmati rice in a saffron sauce. It was not bland, by any means, but the sum somehow seemed less than its parts would lead the diner to expect.
Then there was the service. The employees evidently have been instructed to display a laid-back-but-attentive style, but the hip young servers need a bit more supervision to achieve the desired aim.
During our first visit, the wait staff performed almost flawlessly on timing, attention, and attitude. But on the second go-round, even though the two adjoining dining rooms were almost empty, our server brought the wrong bottle of wine, had to be reminded to refill water glasses, forgot to bring one dish, and was generally lackadaisical in bringing out our food.
Luckily, sitting and waiting at eat is a pleasure.
That's true whether you're nibbling at some appetizers - like the succulent mussels steamed in garlic, white wine, and thyme; or the excellent warm winter salad, composed of roasted parsnips, beets, and carrots over baby greens in a sherry vinaigrette - or just sipping a selection from the short wine list, which consists mostly of bottles in the $21-to-$27 range.
The half-dozen desserts were consistently high-caliber; particularly good were the chocolate bread pudding and the chocolate cake, both of which typify the simple-but-snazzy effect that the restaurant is striving for. The desserts used to be the only items on the menu not made in-house, but that's changed along with the rest of the offerings here.
The up-scaling of eat began even before Jocelyn Goldsmith, the restaurant's original chef, left last July to start a family. And the reason may reflect what kinds of cuisine many Americans really favor when they go out for finer fare, as opposed to what they say they want.
"Everyone thought it was a great idea to offer more downscale, hearty food, but nobody was buying it," says Robinson. "They wanted it a little more upscale, and that's what they got."
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