40 Brattle Street (Harvard Square)
We began our fifth BCC meeting (October 2015) in suitably boozy fashion, greeting each other over tasty cocktails and beers at Noir (in The Charles Hotel). Our club has grown by two members since our last meeting, and so the pre-eat drinks made good sense as we made nice and discussed general rules of engagement. BCC digs Noir, although (note to self) the banquette near the front door is a poor choice on a cold autumn night.
We gathered forces and marched ’round the corner, right on time for our resi at Alden & Harlow. Alas, our date was late—the hostess assured us our table would be ready soon and invited us to have a drink at the bar. Plus: Drinks at the bar and a very pleasant and attentive bartender. Minus: It was quite a wait for our table…and then there were somewhat false promises made when we were rounded up from our belly-up positions (think: “I’ll make it up to you” but he never brings home flowers). We loved the wine list (quality + reasonable bottle prices = happy) but thought there could have been a few more fall-friendly, brown beer selections.
This restaurant has a good overall vibe although rather “typical hipster” (ie ’50s school honeycomb doors, industrial lighting, tiles). It was bustling enough to make us feel loved and popular without the too-much-too-soon feeling of the T at rush hour. Our waitress deserves commendation: she knowingly helped us with menu selection and deftly navigated our loud, crass conversation (a BCC requirement). One member was left without a plate for one course (sorry, there goes a quarter cock). But happily, the drinks kept flowing without anyone feeling rushed, pushed, assaulted, or ignored.
The food selection was quite nice, although laden on the meatier end of the scale. We applauded the opportunity to order off the Prix Fixe menu, as well as the regular menu. Are you ready for this? We somehow managed to consume several bowls of chips and 3-onion dip (freakin’ delicious) before inhaling chicken liver pate—a smooth, rich, mouthgasm with a strong kick of chili oil. Oh yes. The crispy baby bok choy, while interesting, had a strong charcoal taste that rather than lighting our fire just felt burnt. The Kentucky wonder bean succotash had a spot-on balance of flavors and textures, while we were split in opinions over the smoked steak tartare (some hungered for the heat while the Calabrian chili came on too strong for others). What made us melt? The chicken-fried local rabbit (dug the shaved celery in this dish—gave it a bright and light aside) and the roasted bone marrow (can’t ever have too much bone…or meat-butter) was a fun conversation starter (like we needed any help in that department), seeing as not everyone at the table had reveled in the marvels of marrow before. We were put off by the SINGLE egg raviolo (very soft and tasty…but oh-so-all-alone). And we may have hit our ceiling on pork belly—this was too fatty.
So where did A&H lose our interest? The “secret burger,” of which they only sell 30 a night. When asked why this was (a lack of burger-worthy bovines?), we were informed that the chef wants to encourage people to try other items on the menu and the burger is so popular, it overwhelms. Hmmm. A bit pretentious and a whole-lot gimmicky. When a restaurant sells small plates, you’d think they could just make the “secret burger” smaller, and everyone would be happy. Whatever it takes to get people frothing at the mouth, I guess, although we might suggest that the overall A&H experience is good enough to do away with this kind of semi-lame marketing ploy.
Speaking of frothing at the mouth, mid-meal we began to feel the sodium. And while our water glasses never ran dry, the salt in our bloodstreams most certainly was high. The very tasty ice cream with caramel helped soothe our palates, but it soured the kiss just long enough for us not to deem the night perfect. A good time, though. One worth having.
The Boston Cocktail Club 