1030 Massachusetts Avenue (Harvard Square)
October BCC found us paying our respects to the little sister of another restaurant we have frequented in our food-rich past (see our review of ALDEN & HARLOW here). Upon entering, there were immediately shared family traits: a comfortable clutter in layout and distinct cool hand at decor, for example. Our five-some was seated at a booth for four, with the tricky endcap chair not the best of offerings…but on the bright side it made for easy conversation due to proximity. The long-legged of us struggled beneath the table, however, toes and knees dueling under what we theorized must be a feasting surface cut on the narrow side.
Waypoint is like the edgy twenty-something who fascinates you even as you find his or her antics a little bit ridiculous. The restaurant claims Absinthe (the emasculated kind that doesn’t make you go blind) as its hallmark, with a list of complex concoctions above-the-fold. Several BCC members gave it a go despite few at the table actually finding the promised anise-type flavor appealing in a pre-dinner cocktail. The Riding High and Absinthe Cobbler were duly labeled “interesting.” Would we ever order one again? Not likely when there are so many other delicious options.
The wine list proved impressive and our waitress handled by-the-glass service beautifully, bringing bottles directly to the table for a taste prior to committing and ferrying astute guidance from the bartender. The Dinavolino “orange wine” was a distinct hit with its “oh WOW” dry tartness and earthy undertones. If you like something more than a little different, seek this one out.
We took far longer to decide on dinner than we ever have before. And it is not because the menu is particularly extensive. For the first time ever in our club’s short life, we were faced with doubt and a sense of possibly being overfaced. It is a daring menu, and there is an inherent sexiness to its risks. We were willing to be wooed…but we were nervous, like it was our first time all over again.
Finally we leaned in for the first taste, saying nay to the caviar service and settling on oysters from the raw bar instead (we ordered a dozen but only got five, and in our flustered state, chose to let it go). Next we sampled what would be the winning dish of the night (I know, rather early for the high point): Crab & Avocado (garlic mayo, horseradish gremolata), which was superbly balanced, fresh, and clean, working us into a feverish anticipation for what was next. Some of us found the Housemade Breads with smoked seaweed butter and walnut-anchovy dip excellent—a surprising twist to the typical. Others at the table didn’t care for so much spreadable ocean. The Fried Smelts with pickled ramp remoulade were crunchy, chewy, fishy-chip filler—again, popular with some, unappealing to others.
Waypoint takes the idea of pizza and tips it on its head, offering combinations that left us wondering whether this place was simply working to create a “cool club” who got it…Chopped Clam, Pig’s Face, Smoked Whitefish. We ordered the Market Vegetable with pumpkin, which was hearty, sweet, autumnal, and not unpalatable, but distinctly salty. We also aimed to share the Squid Ink Gemelli (benton’s ham, swordfish lardo, smoked pignola) but the rest of the salt had somehow ended up in this plate. We all agreed it was inedible beyond a bite or two.
We appreciated our waitress’s sincere concern over our obvious distaste for the Gemelli (not a service trait we’ve often experienced in our culinary travels), and assured her we would happily consider dessert. In fact, we were still hungry enough to order ALL the desserts, and did so promptly. Our server brought us the simply fantastic Cinnamon Sugar Donuts (with YUM Fazenda ganache) “on the house” as a lovely, succulent, and much appreciated make-up kiss after the disappointing entree, but sadly hadn’t take on board our request for the other two sweets. Having been gifted the one, we decided to call it a night, and honestly wished what was in other ways some of the finest service we’ve experienced hadn’t been marred by two incorrect orders.
At the end we all still felt unsure of our experience. Most members appreciated what was clearly an effort to break from norms and expectations, and enough of our meal had brought interesting flavors to our tongues to feel it was a worthwhile night on the town. We agreed it couldn’t be a go-to—it is more likely a date-night location than a regular haunt—and don’t be surprised if you feel a little like you have to impress Waypoint with your adventurousness, rather than the other way around.
The Boston Cocktail Club 