HAMERSLEY'S BISTRO
553 Tremont St., Boston
(617) 423-2700
Restaurant reviewed 05/12/97 by Alison Arnett
I'm asked again and again what my favorite restaurant is. I always stumble over an answer, feeling a little chagrined at the truth. A restaurant critic is always looking forward to the next meal; returning again and again to favorites is a luxury for the nonprofessional eater.
Recently, I decided it was time to indulge myself with a two-week spree of dining at restaurants I have loved and missed visiting. The list of six - Hamersley's Bistro, Olives, Rialto, L'Espalier, Salamander and Biba - are not the only high points of the city and region. Others, such as Aujourd'hui at the Four Seasons Hotel, Maison Robert and Al Forno in Providence, are also 3-to 4-star restaurants in my estimation. But these six are places that called for another visit after a several-year absence. One caveat: as I reported in my A la carte column yesterday, plan to book weekend reservations several weeks in advance at these places.
Hamersley's Bistro has been around almost 10 years, first in a tiny spot in the South End and for the last 3 years in a much more luxurious space across the street. Some restaurants and chefs fade with age, but Gordon Hamersley and the restaurant he and his wife, Fiona, own have only been getting better. On a recent weeknight visit, Julia Child was ensconced at a table in the front; the soft-toned, comfortable dining room and long tables of chatting businesspeople exuded prosperity - it's one of the restaurants that seems to chart the city's pulse.
It's no wonder since the food is so good. The basis of Hamersley's cooking is French, but that is only the starting point. It's a cuisine of myriad influences, reined in by classic style. Hamersley's flavors have always been assertive but the heaviness that sometimes outdid the boldness in the past seems to have melted away; the result is memorable.A simple salad of asparagus with pickled onion and sauce gribiche illustrates this. Vegetables can hardly avoid the grill these days, but this balance of the slightly smoky asparagus against the bracing tart-sweet bite of the onions catches the appetite's attention anew. Then the addition of a classic French sauce of a vinaigrette softened by egg balances the sharp tones.
Even more arresting is the transformation of the lowly New England haddock into a veritable symphony of flavors. The menu description, with clams, bacon, escarole and toasted garlic sauce added to the roasted haddock, belied actuality. The dish whispers instead of shouts, the fish imbued with cayenne, cumin and garlic which protect and inhance its delicate flesh, the clams tiny nubs of flavor and texture, the bacon just an essence. It's spring-like, yet fulfilling. A salmon au poivre with spring leeks, tiny fingerling potatoes and sorrel was another evocation of the season, particularly because the delicacy of the fish stood out against the sweet-sour tones of the sorrel and leeks.
The old standard, duck a l'orange, is retrofitted here into an almost Asian take. Chilies and spices are rubbed into the skin before roasting, the duck is doused with orange juice and then roasted three hours so that it comes out mahogany-colored and crisp outside, moist inside. A stew of barley and white beans cools the spices and rounds the flavors. The only dish I didn't like was a quixotic "Fenway sausages" on a bun. Cute name, but dressing the ballpark concept up with better ingredients doesn't really enhance it.
Desserts slide into the end of the evening with as much grace as the rest of the experience. A rhubarb hazelnut tart sports a wonderful pastry; a trio of sorbets, especially a tangy lemon sumac and one of vanilla, are equally outstanding.
We arrived at Olives in Charlestown at 6:30 p.m. Too late, alas - the tables were full, and the next table wouldn't be available until 8:15. How do so many people get here so early, throwing the Puritan work ethic to the wind to partake of the excitement in this continually hot restaurant? And this was a Tuesday, a slow night in the trade.
The cooks were working hard in the open kitchen, chef-owner Todd English seemingly everywhere, now spinning a saute pan, now in front directing his crew, now schmoozing with a customer. Olives, owned by English and his wife, Olivia, has been five years in its handsome, high-ceilinged room where the massive flower displays and draperies mirror the bigger-than-life feeling of the place.
We order appetizers at the bar, and when the bistro salad of grilled prosciutto over slivers of endive and frisee salad comes, tastes are so distinctive, so vivid, that we exclaim with joy. Prosciutto is irresistible, crisp and meaty and the thick walnut-flavored dressing on slender batons of toast brightens the greens. Brick oven-roasted quail with sausage and whipped goat cheese is another set of strong flavors. The quail is particularly toothsome, with plenty of tender meat gilded by a balsamic glaze, making it piquant and yet slightly sweet.
By this time, the noise in the bar area is deafening and mercifully we're seated at precisely the time promised. The members of Olives' wait staff do an amazingly good job. Although the place is a pressure cooker, each one seems to keep their cool, managing to be polite and helpful without too much attitude. It's as though everyone and everything in Olives is walking a tight rope, bracing to keep the energy level up without toppling into excess.
English, in a phone interview, says he is constantly challenging himself and that's reflected in his food. Wood-grilled lamb comes over risotto flavored with a creamy eggplant concoction. Against that rich mixture, a cool, spiky tomato and mint salsa hits brighter notes on the palate.
Wood-grilled bass with horseradish mashed potatoes and bacon is English at his best. The skin of the fish is crisp, almost black, but the flesh is perfectly moist, just wonderful. Jutting out from the rich mashed potatoes are perfectly crisp green beans. Then atop the bass are chunks of cold lobster in a spritely vinaigrette. So there on an oversized plate rest about three dishes, with several layers of contasting temperatures and riveting flavors. And then the realization dawns that this is why the customers line up patiently at the door at early-bird hours - it's for this rush of English at his most creative.
Other times, a certain combination will overstep - the wood-grilled sirloin over Tuscan bruschetta with Vidalia onion, Roquefort cream with a sweet and sour shiitake glaze strayed too far into sweet, wiping out all other nuances.
The exuberance of Olives doesn't let up at dessert. Though I loved the pillowy vanilla souffle, the stars of the evening were lemon sorbet and frozen lemon cream over lemon granita, graced with beautiful fans of shortbread. The clean citrus tones broke through all the lingering savory flavors, giving the meal a bright benediction.
Everyone has a chef and a restaurant that matches them, a twinning of style and menu choice. For me, it's Rialto and chef Jody Adams' way with food. Her cuisine is so nurturing, yet sophisticated, the flavors sometimes soaring, sometimes floating. In a phone interview, she describes her evolution, in this third year of Rialto, as getting "cleaner, simpler" to allow the flavors to come through. "Editing is sometimes hard, but that's what I try to do."
Seared, very rare tuna curls over a sliced artichoke salad atop a crunchy, paper-thin flatbread called carta musica. The best of the appetizers melts against the tongue - a flan of a French Nostrali cheese that is thickened slightly with potatoes to give body without excessive calories. It's rich and yet slightly tangy from the cheese and the shower of sauteed morels, firm peas and slivers of asparagus make a perfect beginning to a spring dinner.
Adams' entrees enhance the appetizers. Her tendencies run toward French, Italian and other Mediterranean flavors and she likes cheese, so one wouldn't call her food light. Yet the combinations are intelligent, never overwrought, with the vegetables and proteins in balance.
Seared halibut on spring vegetables is a signature combination that she has reinvented year after year, and I find myself gravitating to it. There's always something new to it, from the wonderful stew of fava beans and green beans to the surprising crunch of Bibb lettuce to this season's addition, a tiny cloud of horseradish cream to spark up the soft tones.
Cod and lobster stew with branade (salt cod) is given a baptism by fire with plenty of red chile pepper and a spicy rouille of red pepper mayonnaise, warming the sweet chunks of fish and the briny tastes of the stock. The best entree, though, is rabbit, simply braised with pancetta and lots of sherry so that the mild meat picks up an abundance of tastes. Thin layers of Parmesan potato souffle alternate with wild mushrooms, the square tower so good that it disappears in seconds. Fava beans and bright green peas complete this very satisfying dish.
There's always something at Rialto that appeals to the whimsicality that overtakes all of us at dessert-time. Popovers always seem a little clumsy at dinner, party guests out of place in the everyday part of the meal. Here, they're perfect. The crusty exterior crunches under the spoon and the creamy inside melds in with a tangy tangerine cream. The surprise of bay leaf with vanilla in creme anglaise with a peach and ricotta tart was also lovely, although the peaches fanned over the tart were underripe.
Rialto, also owned by Michela Larson, is as beautifully turned out as the living room you'd love to own; the wait staff manage to be soliticious without hovering. The ambience reflects a feminine style; going is like knowing a particularly talented hostess whose home one loves to visit. I never tire of going there.
Tips & hits
