75 CHESTNUT
75 Chestnut Street, Boston
(617) 227-2175
(Directions)

Restaurant reviewed 04/06/98 by Alison Arnett

75 CHESTNUT Type: American, Seafood Prices: Appetizers, salads, $5.75-$11.50; entrees, $14.50- $23.95; desserts, $6. Good choices: Crab cakes; roasted stuffed quail; lobster lasagna; roasted pork loin stuffed with raisins, cranberries and goat cheese; beef tenderloin stuffed with mushrooms; fruit tart. Hours: Dinner: Mon.-Thurs. 5- 11 p.m.; Fri.-Sat. 5 p.m.- midnight. No reservations. Smoking in bar area only. Credit cards: All major credit cards accepted. Access: Street-level entrance.

A chilly mist descending on the cobblestoned side streets of Beacon Hill one recent evening made the sight of 75 Chestnut's gleaming windows welcoming. It nestled into its neighborhood among the antique shops and real estate offices like a hen on her eggs, perfectly cozy, perfectly right.

The image carried to the inside, where distinguished-looking men and women chatted over glasses of wine in a warm glow of conviviality. After several months away from the often rarefied world of gourmet cuisine, I'm more and more sure that comfort and familiarity are main attractions in a restaurant. This is 75 Chestnut's virtue.

There's no doubt as to the rootedness of this six-month-old restaurant, located where an earlier bar-restaurant had long been ensconced. Inside, the wood is dark, the fabric brocade and soft-edged floral, the ceilings low. Owned by Tom Kershaw and Bill Honeycutt, proprietor and manager, respectively, of the Hampshire House around the corner, 75 Chestnut even includes Beacon Hill in the title on its menu.

And that's not all: Chef Jean-Pierre DeBeuf said in a phone interview that nearby residents were asked about the kind of food they'd like at a tasting before the restaurant opened. The menu reflects a sense of history, or maybe a keen realization of clientele. Early '70s gourmet figures prominently: There are shrimp cocktail and asparagus crepes, meats stuffed with mushrooms or fruits, and elaborate, gooey desserts. Other dishes reflect newer trends - grilled radicchio with shaved Parmesan, mahi mahi with pineapple chutney - but the diners seemed uniformly pleased as they tucked into their food, the noise level rising as the room filled. It's definitely been discovered.

I, too, found the restaurant charming and liked many dishes. Maryland crab cakes were crisp-crusted but plump and moist inside, sharply seasoned and matched with an equally spicy remoulade. A full salad filled the plate, and although at $11.50 the dish was pricey for an appetizer, it would have easily made a main course. Roasted quail stuffed with a mixture of porcini mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, and goat cheese was delightful. The quail was beautifully basted so that the skin crackled pleasantly against the teeth; the stuffing gave just enough piquancy to the rich meat to punch up the flavors.

In fact, stuffing may be the key to success here. I had my doubts, while reading an earlier menu, that roast pork loin stuffed with raisins, cranberries, and goat cheese would be palatable. Actually, the combination worked and the result was delicious. Two layers of top steak stuffed with porcini and portobello mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes, and gilded with a dark wine sauce, also sported savory flavors.

Lobster lasagna, with the lobster carapace perched on top like a ship's masthead, was a variation on the theme. Loose layers of pasta sandwiched a tomato-cream sauce studded with lobster. Buttery and very rich, yes, but also quite irresistible.

Without the cushioning of rich sauces or stuffing, though, other dishes barely made a lackluster impression. The pineapple chutney atop a cilantro mahi mahi was delicious, but couldn't hide the fact that the delicate white fish was woefully overcooked. Also the dish had wildly disparate components from the chutney to carrots, asparagus, a few beets, and sauteed apple (we thought) dunked in beet juice. Pan-seared salmon held its own better on a simpler plate of roasted potatoes, thin green beans, and asparagus, but again the fish had been on the fire much too long, giving the rosy flesh the texture of leather.

Roasted garlic and herb chicken suggested possibilities - the skin crisp, the idea classic and enduring, but after one or two bites of chicken cooked into submission, I had to stop. A pity.

But a sirloin steak, very traditional and very carefully handled, escaped in time, its straightforward meatiness set off by herb butter, sweet potato fries, and wilted spinach.

Each dish at 75 Chestnut, where generous portions seem to be the rule, included an array of vegetables. But those were the most inconsistent from visit to visit. Once the broccoli, carrots, and zucchini, called grilled on the menu, lay in limp strands, apparently steamed to near death. On another visit, each dish held whole baby carrots, asparagus, and green beans that certainly had been barely dipped in hot water. I like vegetables quite crisp, but it's disconcerting to crunch into each carrot and particularly into asparagus. Our whole party sounded like grazing rabbits.

And yet a steak special included white-tipped radishes that were sauteed and left whole, a marvelous early spring treat, and exquisitely roasted fingerling potato halves, each one crisp and brown on the outside. Yet the Chinese water spinach, or convulvus, served with this dish tasted fine but seemed out of place, an odd cross-cultural touch. Wouldn't spinach or watercress have been better suited to the steak?

The delicate desserts unfortunately suffered from not being made on the premises. A fruit tart with a well-made crust and custard was a pleasing finish to a meal, but a chocolate torte, elaborately layered with pastry cream, was too dry and tasted old. DeBeuf said he makes tiramisu there, the same recipe he perfected when he was chef at the former 21 Broad. I regretted that I hadn't ordered it since I remembered his version was excellent.

Service can vary, too, from rushed and dismissive to friendly and solicitous. However, the wait staff improved on each visit, a good sign, and judging by the conversations going on around us, the regulars, some of whom eat there several times a week, are treated like old friends. In fact, DeBeuf said, patrons can call the day before to request tuna or a special steak for dinner the following night. Now that's a neighborhood restaurant.