Mr. B and I got dinner at Giulia one Saturday night a few weeks ago, before heading to a comedy show in Cambridge. The comedy show was actually incidental because I made the reservation for Giulia about two months prior. That’s what you have to do to get a table on a Saturday night at Giulia.
There were a few Boston 50 restaurants that I marked in my mind as good places to go with friends. Most places on the list are a bit spendy and a fair few are for special occasions only, but there are a handful of places that seem low key, affordable, and fun. There’s a barbecue joint in Fenway, and a friendly, delicious Chinese food truck-turned brick and mortar. There’s also one pizza place and this humble little sushi spot.
The holiday are here and that means gift shopping, caroling gigs, tree decorating and lots of other wonderful time-consuming things. You might think the Best of Boston endeavors have slipped a bit, but that’s not entirely true! After our double “Inlawpalooza” of a Thanksgiving, I managed to cram in a two-fer of top Boston restaurants with my family. Unfortunately, the one I’m about to tell you about would not make it on my Top 50 List. It wouldn’t even make it on my Top Restaurants of Harvard Square list, which admittedly, has some stiff competition.
Last week after work, I met Mr. B at The Kirkland Tap & Trotter as part of my Best of Boston Restaurant Challenge. It’s a humble looking place, about halfway between Inman Square and Harvard Square. The servers wear checkered shirts and the silverware is tossed casually into a bucket on the table. There are metal wagon wheels hanging from one of the beams and an assortment of pig paraphernalia scattered on walls and shelves. It’s a sort of rustic, calculated chaos. Farm chic, if you will.
So I settled into my wooden chair, feeling slightly overdressed in a simple black cotton dress. Then I looked at the menu and did a little double take. Octopus confit? Grilled salmon head? A $30 beef stew? What was this place exactly?
For the first official meal of this Best of Boston adventure, Mr. B and I went to a place I’ve had my eye on since before it opened. We decided to go to Puritan & Co.‘s Sunday Brunch. I was enticed by the menu‘s pastry section and I was not disappointed. The pastry counter was a sight to behold: piles of buttery, flaky, sugar coated treats, bathed in the glow of mason jar light fixtures.