La Laiterie at Farmstead

If I were ever to open my own restaurant, I would imagine it to be like La Laiterie at Farmstead in the Wayland neighborhood of Providence. It is a small, warm space with simple, yet strongly executed menu items, most of which are on the to-be-shared scale of things, and a well rounded wine list.

The bistro-style restaurant is adjacent to Chef/owner Matt Jennings’ first gift to New England foodies, Farmstead, a specialty food store featuring domestic and international artisan cheeses and accompaniments. The restaurant is a narrow room, contemporary in design, made cozy by the prevalent use of wood and hanging paper lights, which give off a slight golden hue to the dim lit room. With regular and high, bar-style tables, and a bar at the back of the restaurant, the place has a low-key vibe.

Like the locale’s ambience, the food is straightforward, unpretentious, verging on rustic. The menu, which is printed in what I would assume to be recycled paper, is divided into clear sections showcasing the Chef’s passion for seasonal, fresh, well-sourced ingredients. The cheeses are selected daily. They are categorized by their general characteristic ranging from “bloomy, sweet and salty” to “veined, blue and robust”. A board of five includes one from each group, and is served with seasonal accompaniments. We got a sweet, cherry marmalade, herbed, candied nuts (I distinguished thyme and rosemary), and honeycomb. As a cheese lover, I was in heaven.

The charcuterie is “carefully procured” or made in house, which we solely ordered since Chef Jennings’ has an award-winning reputation of pork master. Among our board of five were pig ear terrine, pork belly roulade, and bresaola. While all were proof of the chef’s mastery of the craft of charcuterie, their flavor was slightly under whelmed by the house made breads- foccacia and pretzel bread, which were generously finished with coarse salt.

For treats and starters, which were all single portions, the smoked beef tongue bruschetta with beer-braised onions, and blue cheese is a definite must try. The onions were soft and sweet, and the blue cheese was not overpowering like it tends to be. The roasted beet salad, beautifully composed on the plate, had marinated feta which was unique- creamier than the average Greek-style feta. From the small plates, the baked cheesemonger’s mac and cheese had a nice golden, crispy crust with a rich center. The seared Vermont chicken livers with beer battered onion rings was not my favorite. The menu also has large plates, which featured on the evening of my visit mussels, all-natural burger, roasted duck breast, lamb, and a grilled cheese with Virginia smoky ham.

Matt Jennings knows what he’s doing.

Tucker’s Bistro: Classic and Modern Cuisine in a Whimsical Setting

In the heart of Newport among the many consignment stores and eateries there lays a town gem one may consider quite an oddity. With white Christmas lights hanging on the outside façade, Tucker’s Bistro outshines its neighbors on Broadway. But once inside you realize that the lavishness does not stop at the yellow door. Rich ruby walls, dim lighting, and an eclectic collection of artwork, sculptures, and mirrors evoke the surreal. The space creates a form of escapism- you get the feeling you are not quite in the now. For the last fourteen years, owner Tucker’s lack of restraint has created a luxurious space which ironically he conceived from salvaged pieces found at local garage sales and antique shops. Amidst this flurry, Chef Rick Allaire’s simple approach to food provides an unexpected sense of comfort.

Upon entering, Tucker led us to a private booth draped in Prussian blue curtains. Found in the back of one of the two dinning rooms, it is ideal for an intimate dinner for two, or six. A hands-on type of owner, Tucker repeatedly asked if we had any reservations with the given table since there was a large, noisy group seated next to us. We had none, so we stayed. He asked for our drink order but we chose to have him select for us based on the Chef’s surprise tasting menu. A friendly server returned momentarily with two glasses of white wine. She gave us a brief explanation of the Xarelo (Spanish grape) which would complement the first couple of courses. This wine is of medium body and great acidity, a suitable pairing with seafood which we assumed would be the forerunners of our meal. It is New England after all.

We were first presented with the amuse bouche of cured marinated hamachi neck. Plated on white porcelain spoons, the blush colored fish was small diced and mixed with Meyer lemon, red onion and chives. While delicate in flavor, the single morsel left my mouth watering. The acidity of the lemon cut through the fattiness bringing brightness to the bite, while the chives and red onion created a slight texture. The simple yet palate enticing preparation of the hamachi was proof that Chef Allaire has a special affinity for seafood, which he proved again and again with the dishes to come.

Our first appetizer was a gnudi with white and green pencil asparagus, sunchokes, pancetta, and parsley oil powder. The creaminess of the gnudi, a soft pillow-like gnocchi made from ricotta cheese, was a perfect starch to contrast the other elements. The asparagus were cooked al dente, that is they still had a bite to them, and were finished with a drizzle of Meyer lemon juice which balanced the earthiness of the sunchoke. The basic rule of utilizing acids to harmonize ingredients as well as to enhance a flavor is one Chef Allaire proved he has not forgotten.

Like with the gnudi, the melted Scottish salmon belly showed yet again the Chef’s knowledge of using the diverse bounty the earth has to offer. The salmon belly was served with purple potatoes, fennel chips, lettuce, mustard oil and red verjus (refers to grape or apple juice used as the acid in a vinaigrette or sauce). It also demonstrated the diverse technique the Chef employs. Cooked in a dehydrator at a temperature of 140 degrees, the salmon is rendered soft and silky. Like the description said it melts in your mouth.

With the following courses the Chef‘s cuisine took on a global perspective. A seared Georges Bank scallop was paired with Le Puy lentils (from its namesake region in France), apple curry vinaigrette, beet and basil seed caviar. A chip made of milk skin was in the form of a coral, perhaps the Chef’s quirky attempt to maintain the ocean theme. The scallop was perfect- crispy on the outside with a smooth center. If it weren’t for the unknown number of dishes to come I would have asked for seconds. I was not as impressed with the accompaniments which were, although savory, homogenous and thus difficult to distinguish on my plate.

Chef Allaire revisited an Italian classic with his safe interpretation of pasta alla carbonara. A raw, quail egg yolk sat on top of twirled, house made spaghetti finished with parmesan and chives. The flavor was on point, but the pasta was slightly undercooked and barely warm for my liking.

Traditional French inspired dishes followed living up to the bistro name. Seared Hudson Valley foie gras with vanilla pudding, ginger bread, orange, amaretto poached apricots and sherry caramel. A duo of duck was paired with cracklings, toasted faro, marcona almonds, and orange ginger sauce. The salty confit of duck terrine was topped with a sweet mango “yolk” to resemble a classic steak tartare. Rich and flavorful as anything cooked in fat would be, the confit overshadowed the rather bland tenderloin “mosaic”, or roulade. Crispy veal sweetbreads, cooked sous vide and finished in the fryer, were tender and light. Green garlic, potato gnocchi, maiitake mushrooms, and a braised mustard seed Calvados sauce brought earthiness, pungency, and fullness to the dish.

The first dessert, if you could call it one, had all the makings of a salad with caraway braised gold beets, frisée, celery seed crème fraiche, Saba and hazelnut oil. Although an unusual choice, it allowed for a gentle and gradual transition on the palette between the savory and sweet part of the meal. The final course, buttermilk custard, orange brûlée, with blood orange supremes, was an underwhelming end to the ten course long meal revealing Chef Allaire's strength lies on the culinary arts rather than on pastry confections.

At the end of the meal it was clear Chef Allaire deliberately combines quality ingredients and sundry technique to render the delectable creations he serves at Tucker’s Bistro. Not only is the food worth the trip, but the restaurant in it of itself is an exhibition of the repertoire that reflects the unique individual Tucker is.

Only One Bravo for Bravo Bravo

The word “Bravo” is an Italian adjective which means clever, capable, good, fine. The restaurant Bravo Bravo in the quaint, maritime town of Mystic is just that. The space is clever, utilizing large, glass, floor to ceiling windows to showcase the happenings on East Main Street. The cuisine proves the Chef is capable of combining flavors and creating dishes dinners seem to come back to again and again. The service in general was just fine. Overall, dinner at this modern, Italian seafood restaurant was good, yet it fell short of exceptional.

On a Wednesday night, I decided to dine at Bravo Bravo after several colleagues expressed their appreciation for the contemporary spot. Inside, the restaurant is almost dark with illumination provided by small, white candles lining the walls, bar and tables. The constant, flickering lights make the space glow. The ambience is reminiscent of a sexy, city lounge or an uber fine dinning, white table cloth restaurant. Simple, clean wooden tables are placed close to one another throughout the room. We were seated at a corner table, which was a bit snug but more comfortable than the two tops set side by side in the center of the small, dinning room.

Our server, who was both attentive and knowledgeable, brought us our menus and delivered the night’s specials. Although we had decided to order from the regular menu, one special stood out- seared scallops with a curry coconut risotto. The restaurant’s website describes the cuisine as “Italian seafood”, and while some items on the menu have Mediterranean inspired dishes like Moroccan spiced pork, a clearly Indian dish sticks out like a sore thumb. Chefs should maintain focus adhering to the cuisine the house promote and not use specials to experiment. It is confusing.

We asked for the calamari and a Bravo Martini, vodka martini with gorgonzola stuffed olives, while we read the menu and decided what to order. I could have ordered any other of their specialty cocktails, but I am one to enjoy a good, old fashioned martini since not everyone gets the balance between vodka, vermouth, and olive juice right. The martini was delicious, although it was the basic martini and requires no real creativity, the Ketel One vodka made it smooth.

The server brought us bread and a trio of extras on a small plate: marinated, mixed olives, olive oil, and a white bean and red pepper spread. The olives were simple, but very good, although I am unsure if they are marinated in house. The spread was a great alternative to the traditional butter but lacked acidity and seasoning. Nevertheless, the unexpected trio was a nice touch demonstrating the people at Bravo Bravo try to make your meal special.

The fried calamari with spicy aioli took a bit longer than I had expected. To my knowledge the squid is precut, breaded and fried to order, a process that doesn’t take longer than five minutes. The calamari rings were scattered on a plate larger than it should have been. They were a shade past gold in color, and thick in breading, but very well seasoned. Having experience with calamari told me these were frozen since the rings were un-clumped, there were no tentacles in the batch, and they were a bit chewy.

While eating the calamari, the Arugula, crispy artichoke, prosciutto, and shaved parmesan Reggiano salad we ordered arrived. The Arugula was beautiful, had a nice peppery flavor, and lightly dressed, which allowed you to taste the good quality of the green. Pesto and olive tapenade placed underneath added some flavor but the salad needed more acidity, perhaps sherry vinegar, and salt. The artichokes were warm but not very crispy, and tasted canned, not fresh. The thin Proscuitto should have been cut into pieces instead of leaving the slices long and whole. A salad should not require a knife in my opinion.

Our next course was pasta. Our server explained that some of the pastas on the menu were made in house. We decided to try to the linguini Bolognese. Although the pasta was not made fresh, Bolognese is a staple Italian sauce and it is an element to judge how good an Italian restaurant is. This dish failed to impress us or legitimize the restaurant as an authentic Italian place. A traditional Bolognese does not call for the use of cream, and Bravo Bravo’s uses cream. The cream disguised its true flavor, and diluted the acidity which is natural in tomatoes. The meat should have been the only source of fat used to balance the acidity- the cream was unnecessary.

With our next course, the pork, I ordered a glass of wine. The wine list has reasonable prices for wines by the bottle. The selection of these by the glass is scarce. I chose a pinot noir from their short house wine list. It was Australian, to my disappointment, and safe. The Moroccan spiced pork with faro, chickpea puree, haricot vert, Greek yogurt, capers and plumped raisins was well thought but poorly executed. The pork was too well done, and underneath the yogurt spread with capers and raisins you could see the burnt meat. The “plumped” raisins would have worked better if they had cooked them in some flavorful liquid, preferably with some acidity. The chickpea puree tasted like hummus, while the green beans were overcooked- they had no bite and they had lost their vibrant green color. The ingredients are complementary in terms of flavors, according to any flavor profile rule book. There was an overall disconnect of components- no harmony. The dish lacked an element, weather it be a vinaigrette or sauce, to tie all these ingredients together.

Apart from the dessert list, the waitress shared some specials including a carrot cake. Although

very un -Italian, and I was on a mission to have an Italian meal, it was made in house, so we decided to try it. This dessert was the highlight of the meal. It was rich, dense, and moist. There was a perfect nut to raisin ratio. The layer of icing was perfect for the amount of cake. The cake was set on a drizzle of caramel which was not necessary for the delicious cake.

Despite the misses in food, I would to return to Bravo Bravo. I think the restaurant offers decent service, a nice environment and fair food, but I would chose different dishes to try. The cuisine demonstrates that the Chef is apt and I am confident there are hits in the menu. The review might portray otherwise, but dinner at Bravo Bravo was an enjoyable experience.