No surprise, it's still your grandfather's Locke-Ober
Type: Seafood
Prices: Appetizers, $8.25 to $14.50; entrees, $18.75 to $29.50; desserts, $4.50 to $10. Three-course meal, with moderately priced wine and coffee, including tax and tip:$75-$85 per person.
Good choices: Appetizers: crab cake on brown bread, Scottish smoked salmon, steak tartare. Entrees: grilled salmon in horseradish sauce; broiled lemon sole; sweetbreads fricasee with lobster and morels; grilled veal chop. Desserts: Indian pudding with ice cream; cheesecake with strawberry sauce; baked Alaska; macaroon cookies.
LOCKE-OBER CAFE
3-4 Winter Place, Boston
(617) 542-1340
Restaurant reviewed 12/24/97 by Walter V. Robinson
After enjoying a perfectly mediocre dry martini, Doreen forever lost her chance to savor those two gin-soaked olives: So unobtrusive was the waiter who whisked away her glass that she could not have picked him out of a lineup.
Forever lost, because at Locke-Ober, the service is so efficient and attentive in appearance that even when it falls short in execution one shudders at the consequences of complaining. How could any dignified martini drinker, even after just one martini, demand her olives back?
Almost anywhere else, one might wonder whether the kitchen needed the olives because the tapenade spread for the focaccia bread, a staple at trend-setting restaurants, had run low.
But not at Locke's. In a business where ignoring the latest whim can spell disaster, Locke-Ober in Boston's Downtown Crossing is the antithesis of whimsicality. It celebrates tradition, and even flavorless potato dishes. It abhors trendiness: You'll find no olive oil for dipping on the table, nor any ''waitpersons'' attending them. Despite that, or more likely because of it, Locke's boasts a loyal clientele as large as the waistline of anyone who regularly indulges its menu.
''This is dangerous food,'' exclaimed one of my guests, Sam, as he anticipated the arrival of his sweetbreads fricassee, sauteed with morels and a lobster tail in a beurre blanc sauce.
Indeed, if testosterone were high in saturated fat, it would probably be featured on the menu. Locke's first floor Cafe is not unlike a country club where women shun the men's grill even after the rules change. Locke-Ober's centerpiece, the Cafe was closed to women until 1970, but remains predominantly male. And ostentatiously so: a Locke's dinner bill - even in the room's nonsmoking area - does not include the cost of dry cleaning to rid one's clothing of the cigar smoke that wafted over from a nearby smoking table, along with boisterous conversation about the ''scumbags'' in a competing business.
So it was a dangerous experiment, coaxing the star-crossed Doreen and three other women to join me for a recent dinner in Locke's quasi-male preserve; and then to repeat the experience a week later with three men, two of whom punctuated their well-marbled experience by drawing contentedly on Partagas cigars. The martini aside, it's difficult to conclude that the women had been treated badly. They were seated promptly, while the all-male group was forced to wait 26 minutes by an assistant maitre d' who was unapologetic about the delay - even though the reservation had been made days ahead. On boys' night out, the wait was understandable: Locke's was exceedingly busy, so much so that it appeared as if no one had attended to the cleanliness of the men's room in hours.
Still, there's no denying that the women felt less comfortable. It's not the trademark nude on the wall - reproduced on suspenders that sell very well, for $47.25 a set. It's the atmosphere. Nowadays, Locke's holds the door open for women. But it still beckons to men.
In such a masculine room, women remain a curiosity, even for the staff: Maureen made the reservation. Maureen announced our presence. Maureen led the way to the table. The waiter - there are no waitresses - promptly handed me the wine list. Maureen asked that he redirect it to her. Moments later, the waiter asked me if we were ready to order. Maureen informed him we were not. And so on. By the time the check arrived, there was no confusion: It went directly to Maureen.
But it was Maureen who had what may be Locke's best appetizer, the Jonah crab cake on brown bread, a stellar performer on a menu where only the regulars know enough to pick the worthwhile items. For all its experience - 122 years of it - Locke's offers too much mediocre fare, at too high a price.
The oysters Rockefeller tasted only of the spinach. The clams casino overdid the breadcrumbs and the paprika. It took little coaxing to get Doreen to order the steak tartare; it was, she said, delicious. Sam savored the Scottish salmon. Nothing special, said this Locke's veteran: ''It's doing what it's supposed to do.'' Bob pronounced the Littlenecks good.
It's the entrees, which are closing in on $30 each, that most often fall short. Simpler fish dishes, like the Dover sole, lemon sole, and salmon with horseradish sauce, were quite good. But the baked supreme of chicken was undistinguished. And the rack of lamb Karen ordered was overpowered by its sauce moutarde. The steak au poivre was quite flavorful. But it took a good serrated knife and some serious chewing to appreciate its taste. Bob found the veal chop excellent. Alas, the broiled sea scallops were somewhat rubbery, the accompanying bacon cold. The sweetbreads were wonderful. To any cardiologist's delight, no one dared try the calf's liver with bacon and onions.
The wines, at least, were exceptional, and reasonably priced, especially a long-cellared 1988 Burgundy, Beaune Graves. At $42, it was priced close to retail level.
It's hard to think of Locke's as a dessert bar. But in that milieu, it might compete well: A decaffeinated espresso so good it would put the best coffee house to shame. Extraordinary Indian pudding, with pumpkin, cinnamon, and molasses, served with vanilla ice cream. An excellent, feathery smooth cheesecake with strawberry sauce. The flambeed baked Alaska for two was also quite good. The macaroon cookies were excellent.
But for the price - $84 a person, including tax and tip - you can have a meal to die for - and not from - at numerous other restaurants where men and women alike feel at home.
Locke-Ober is both a Boston institution and an acquired taste. And if it does not become an acquisition of yours, the restaurant seems not to mind. Its manager, Geoffrey Sullivan, acknowledges that Locke's retains a stigma. ''Many women just won't come here,'' he says. It is, he admits, an unabashedly masculine setting.
''Any restaurant has its personality, and some people take to it.'' Sullivan says. ''Locke-Ober is a little like Boston itself: It takes a while to warm up to.''
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