Category: Good Drinks

DCBK & WALLY’S CAFE

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Darryl’s Corner Bar & Kitchen / Wally’s Cafe

604 Columbus Ave / 427 Mass Ave (South End)

Check this: Two of our members were in NOLA two weeks before the February BCC meeting—not planned, but a nice riff on the legit when it came to finally making the legendary Wally’s Cafe our destination du jour. Thing is, as much as we all crave the low-cal-high-return of a meal consisting of straight drinks-and-tunes, it doesn’t do nearly enough to sustain our middle-aged brains and allow for some small semblance of conversation. So a pre-game (substitute: real food) stop was a necessary part of the plan.

As serendipity (or brilliant development) would have it, not 500 yards away from Wally’s at the corner of Mass and Columbus is Darryl’s Corner Bar & Kitchen (or DCBK for the initiated) and I’d be lying if I didn’t say we got lucky when we made a reservation there. The space actually mirrors Wally’s, to some degree—long and narrow, although the “stage” (ie designated jazz space) was mid-room rather than all the way in the back. The atmosphere is warm yet “with it” and fresh feeling. In two words: so cool. We loved the super sleek, curved, penny-tile bar.

DCBK has a good selection of tasty cocktails that tease you from the menu: an image of the type of glass it “wears” is smart and fun and gets you in the mood. (Let’s admit it: the outfit plays into the end experience—ever ordered a martini and been served a pint glass? Immediate headache and lights off.) We’re a bit bummed it took a while for bartender to acknowledge our boozey desires, but in the end the Dark & Stormy, Manhattan, and Kentucky Mule warmed us from the 10-degree-cold we battled outside.

Once our party was fully in the house, we were awarded a cozy corner booth close to the Thursday-night jam. It was loud, but honestly, we dug. Our attentive but low-impact waitress brought our designated apps promptly: Catfish fingers with delicate tasty breading and spicy mayo were a definite turn-on. We sampled a cup of the house gumbo, which packed a nice kick but didn’t blow anybody’s hair back. Beets with goat cheese, served warm, had a lovely flavor and were a refreshing break from the typical fried foreplay fare.

Members then dipped into the chicken and waffle and “Glorifried Chicken”–both of which were tasty although if you’re hoping for two legs and only get one, it can leave you wanting. The stuffed pepper was well presented but the shrimp and grits (OMG fried grits!!) probably won the day. It has inspired playful, flavorful daydreams in the hours since. The Cajun fries lost their seasoning easily, but made our mouths happy and the collards were standard—if you like ’em, you like ’em, but if they’re not your thing, they didn’t lobby hard enough for a change of heart. A cozy dish of mac-and-cheese came off a little on the plastic side…but the jazz band across from our table was anything but, and the quality of the music, and fab art, and the chill-but-not-too-chill vibe of all the cool cats in the place means we’re keeping the DCBK number on speed dial. Our recent NOLA-venturing members agreed it all felt darned close to one of the clubs they were in down on the Bayou. I’d pay for that in Boston any night.

Oh and Wally’s? Wally’s kills it. Go early. Get a beer. Stay late. You’ll wake up happy.

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YVONNE’S

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Yvonne’s

2 Winter Place (Downtown Crossing)

Those of you who follow our imbibement-motivated wanderings through our delicious city and its surrounds may have wondered what happened to the December BCC meeting. Well, we were simply waiting to finally get a reservation at our most recent destination.

Yes, it takes a month. Well, for normal folk. And you kind of get why when you get there. Down a dark alley near Downtown Crossing, there glows a beacon: A dayglo sign with sexy script emerges from the wall high above, illuminating the crowd of expensive coats and unbelievably smooth hair below. They’ve made the play for that feel of exclusivity fairly well, opting for a doored lobby over a velvet rope. But the hosts number many and you can only hope that on your very best days in your hottest of hot pants you are maybe-sort-of-almost as attractive as they are.

The interior of Yvonne’s is a mashup of snobbish blue-blood wood paneling, dazzling candelabra, tawdry wall art, and visually appealing staff in snug white shirts and suspenders. You immediately feel like being naughty. And the cocktails encourage the instinct—the 1989 (yes, shoutout to TS) provided champagne infused with vodka, which sounds like a terrible idea if you think long enough about it. But Yvonne’s is a place where they try to make sure you DON’T think. At least not for too long, or for too hard.

The music is loud and clubby. Paired with the cocktails, you immediately get that buzzy happy feeling and really don’t mind that you can’t hear anything. The host who seated us had to ask thrice. But he was delightfully patient. Our waitress gave us a smiley 10-minute chat of which we only heard “takes 45 minutes” and then spent the time we might have been perusing our menus trying to decipher what that could have meant. The bar was backed up? The apps would be slow? The burlesque show that was most certainly going to begin on the big table next to us any moment now?

We ordered Yvonne’s “sharing plates” (aka Tapas/small plates) and honest-to-goodness they were freaking fantastic. The buttermilk hush puppies and crispy tater cubes vied for our attention, each delighting in their own way. The Kentucky prosciutto toast was generous with the carnivore in mind with a hidden spread of beer cheese and pickled onion that altogether made us go “OH!” We opted for a stone-fired pita upon recommendation of the waitress (or so we think), and the KFC (Korean fried chicken, kimchee, gruyere) was a fantastic combo with perfect balance—a feat not often accomplished on anything that resembles “personal pan land.” And oh god, the seared brussel sprouts! Our table believes that brussel sprouts get a bad rap, but in their Yvonne’s outfit, they had to be cute enough for the hatiest of haters. Pepper sauce, garlic walnuts, and feta were like pasties and panties that made the dish just delish. The only share we might not reshare were the chicken and quinoa meatballs. They drove us to our water glasses with their salty innards (a theme in this column, it would seem).

Our meal was well matched in our beverage selections, with a fabulous Gruner Veltliner and Bantam Rojo cider winning the raves. So why, you may ask in the midst of all this ra-ra-ra, doesn’t Yvonne’s get 5 Cocks, our much-sought-after prize that has not yet been awarded in all of our booze-soaked foodie adventures?

You’d think in a place so sexy and decadent the desserts would seal the deal, but ours were a bust. We ordered one of each of their Tasty Treats (full disclosure, the small fare, not the main desserts) and found them all very pretty but when it came down to getting down…disappointing—lingerie full of ice cream. And they don’t have decaf.

It wasn’t just the shallow sweeties, really…the “scene” is intoxicating, indeed, but the tables are too close (even when the Secretary of State is sitting in one nearby), and it is like eating in the middle of a dance floor. You’re surrounded by beautiful people, and one might even kiss you or grab you on the bottom, and that feels great in the moment, but in the morning, you’ll likely wake up and realize you never DID catch his name. Do you go back to that dance floor and look for that happy place again? Sure you do. It will always be effing fun…but not quite the perfect night.

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Meju

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Meju

243 Elm Street (Somerville)

 

Our first BCC meeting where minutes were officially kept. We should begin by indicating the choice of Meju was predominantly related to its proximity to the Somerville Theater where the BCC was venturing apres eats to view Straight Outta Compton (yes, it’s good).

Meju (formerly Mickey Ds for all you Davis Square folk) was fairly empty when we arrived at 6:45 pm (yes, cutting it close to our 8 pm showtime), and the host’s exuberance as he sat us made us think we might be the first and only customers. But that (reassuringly) wasn’t the case, and by the time we were finishing our meals, the entire cool interior was packed.

This place has a good selection of cocktails (kind of a requirement in any Boston eatery these days), and the Citron Gin Sparkler was quite tasty. The Thai Basil Gimlet was a little herby, and some of us thought it tasted more like an appetizer than a drink.

We got our Korean food on, sharing the spicy pork bulgogi buns, beef galbi short ribs buns, and the shrimp steamed dumplings. The buns were all you’d want to imagine them to be–the short rib version, in particular, garnered praise from our table. We might skip the dumplings next time. Bibimbap (tofu and beef) was a hit, and the Mandoo soup is certainly something I’d go back for–plus, they ask you how you want it (love it when they do that!) Go ahead and fire it up. We found the heat the perfect level of excitation (a mild flush to the cheeks versus dripping with sweat).

The mushroom jabchae is perhaps the biggest loser on this night. We won’t go into detail as regards this denunciation.

Our waitress was friendly and attentive, as were the backwaiters and bussers. The only irritation came when we wanted more drinks…and were left wanting for quite some time. When they finally came we had to pound them to get to our movie. None of us shy away from that but we would have, on this occasion, preferred a gentler goodnight.

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Ribelle

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Ribelle

1665 Beacon Street (Brookline)

We love, love, loved the interior of Ribelle. If a room’s aesthetics has any impact on your ultimate enjoyment of what you are about to experience (as far as food is concerned), this one does not disappoint. From the menus clipped to cardboard cut from wine cases to the rustic-meets-urban servingware, it all tread the line of pleasing…just right.

In July we found our way to Brookline, and due to our rather circuitous route there, were extremely pleased to discover that Ribelle makes ordering wine easy on its guests–you pick a number from a list of rather wittily rendered descriptions and then each bottle is presented at your table: Et voila! You didn’t have ponder regions or vintages or stumble over names or varietals in front of your friends. It sounds silly in the retelling but we promise it is perfectly satisfying in the moment. And the service in this case was perhaps the best of our BCC experiences yet. Our waiter was attentive and friendly (and perfectly capable of pronouncing the actual names of the wines we immediately chose to imbibe).

Our Ribelle experience again predated BCC minutes, so we cannot share the exact dishes we consumed. In general, we found our selection of shared first courses interesting, but there wasn’t an “oh, OH” experience in the bunch. I believe a duck liver pate pleased us most. We then shared two pasta dishes–served in large, simple bowls and significant enough in size to split between four. And here, yes, was the reason to return (besides the visual appeal of our surroundings and the wine list): They were fantastic.

Sadly, it was a case of going one more round when we’d already had our thrill of the evening: The dessert wines chosen didn’t please and the dessert itself paled in comparison to its pasta predecessors. Ribelle, so cool in so many ways, couldn’t quite close the deal.

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Sarma

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Sarma

249 Pearl Street (Somerville)

Some of us were experienced in the ways of Sarma, and so we knew, before beginning, not to fall prey to the restaurant’s ritualistic palate tease. (A danger to both body and wallet.) We steeled ourselves at our June meeting, ordering only a few menu dishes for the table (they are all worth trying), fully prepared for the endless parade of delectable little “extras” to prance by, knowing each and every one could be ours (for a price). And that fried chicken? Worth staying up (or waking up) for, every single time.

There also was a dessert-type concoction that involved hot caramel. Need we say more?

The service was not fawning at Sarma; they didn’t neglect us either. The hosts, servers, and bartenders were businesslike and fairly efficient, which honestly seemed somewhat out of touch with the intimacy of the food they served.

Overall, our night at Sarma pleased us, and even if we ended up pushing our taste-bud boundaries a bit and left unsure of where we stood with the staff, we are perfectly ready to go back and see what comes next.

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