Happy Birthday, My Love!
Belatedly celebrating Jason's birthday (it was last week, we did a couple of special things then, but this was his big surprise) we went out to dinner and a show last night.
I've been excited to try Menton since reading an in-depth article about Barbara Lynch in Boston Magazine last year when she was getting ready to open this new venture in the same building with Sportello, down by the Children's Museum. That interview took place while she was choosing the linen and place settings--she pulled from her bag a stained napkin from Eric Ripert's Westend Bistro in DC to compare sizes--so I was interested to see what she'd chosen. The stark, spare table--white linen over a textured grey skirt, white plate, butter knife, clear water glass, clear glass candleholder--echoed the cool, minimal design of the space. It's not my favorite style--I find that I like my dining rooms to lean more toward warm & cozy--but the lush, sensual food is well framed by it.
Our timing was a little tight--traffic made us 15 minutes late and we did have a show to get to--so I was relieved that we were both more interested in the four-course menu than the seven. Since we were within walking distance of the Grand Chapiteau on Fan Pier, we went ahead and ordered pairings with the courses. First up was an amuse bouche of potato velouté with eggplant caviar and a sliver of toasted brioche. I really need to learn how to make velouté--no matter what it's made of, I always love it. This one was a little salty, but in such a small quantity that was perfect. It was served with a sparkling chenin blanc from the Loire region--sadly, I was mistaken in thinking that their wine list is available online, so I didn't take more detailed notes. It was crisper and drier than chardonnay-based Champagnes and was a lovely way to start the meal.
With our first course, I got a dry Austrian Riesling. It had a lot of the same, rich flavors as a sweeter Riesling, but didn't overpower the fois gras de canarde with Monbazillac gelée, rhubarb ribbon and almonds. That was beautiful--cutting through it reminded me of ice cream cake--and the flavor was delicate and balanced. Jason got a Grüner Veltliner, also from Austria, with less fruity notes, that went particularly well with the shavings of aged goats' milk cheese accompanying his salad of baby vegetables (beets, zucchini, carrots, and lightly pickled parsnips) carved in pretty shapes with nasturtium and chive blossoms. Those were particularly tasty, with a black pepper snap.
For the second course, I got the langoustines wrapped in kataifi over a drizzle of English pea velouté, decorated with shaved rhubarb and pumpkin seed oil, while Jason had the sea bass with chorizo and green tomatoes in a yellow tomato velouté, poured tableside. That had a wonderful taste, warm and smoky, but needed something to differentiate the flavors--perhaps thicker slices of chorizo--and a dash of black pepper to make it truly exciting. I thought they missed an opportunity to sculpt the kataifi into more exciting shapes, but the delicate flavors on the outside really set off the strong, sweet flavor of the langoustine meat. We each had a white Burgundy with this course, Jason's a standard chardonnay and mine an aligoté--which I'm not certain I've ever tried before--each nicely paired to the sweet/smoky flavors of our respective dishes.
My third course was a duet of rabbit with parsley root puree, fennel mostarda, and pithivier. That was a puff pastry filled with finely chopped veal sweetbreads and more rabbit that tasted wonderfully of Thanksgiving stuffing. The circles of rabbit loin were slightly overwhelmed by the salty rabbit jus, but the tiny ribs were intense and delicious and I gave in and picked them up by the bone to eat like popsicles. My wine was a Rosso di Montepulciano, lovely in its complexity and quite different from the more familiar Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. Sadly, the first pour of Jason's red Burgundy was corked--it happens--and our server was so contrite that he not only brought another pour, but came with an extra glass for us to share of a Hirsch pinot noir bottled especially for Menton. Now that was a treat--smoky and complex and just amazing, though it didn't go as well with our food as the pairings did. His main course was the Cavendish Vermont Quail Farci with asparagus, porcini marmalade, and fig, which was equally lovely and we enjoyed trading bites and sips back and forth. "Farci" means stuffed with ground meat; in this case, that meant a bit of fois gras which subtly richened the flavor of the quail without really being noticeable as a distinct flavor.
Due to our time constraints, we had to pass on the additional cheese course, but the sight of it as we left made me even more certain that we will have to return.
For dessert, we were brought a Muscat dessert wine made in open concrete vats--sort of Muscat lambic. At first I was getting a slightly moldy aftertaste--not surprising, under the circumstances--but it didn't set off Jason's allergies as I feared it might and with food was heady and delicious. I was afraid it would clash with my lemon tart--a small, intense custard in a beautifully toasted shell with fresh blackberries and yogurt sorbet served with finely chopped macadamia and a dusting of fennel powder that really intensified the yogurt flavor--but the wine just expanded in my mouth to provide a beautiful context for the sweet and tart notes of the dessert. Jason had the peaches--two different varieties, one sweet and the other tart--served with crème fraiche ice cream.
With our bill came a bowl of miniature macaroons--black sesame, rosemary, raspberry and vanilla, filled with chocolate ganache. Much to my surprise, the black sesame were my favorite.
This was a delightful meal--I think possibly the best tasting menu I've had in Boston--and we will definitely be making a return pilgrimage.
From there it was about a ten-minute walk over to Fan Pier and the Grand Chapiteau. We strolled to the entrance, handed our tickets to the usher...and discovered that we had come on the wrong date. Our tickets were for next Wednesday.
I've never done that before and am not sure how I got confused--when we got home I found it on my calendar next week, where it belonged, and it said Wednesday, July 28th big as life on the tickets themselves. It was also a pretty inconvenient night for us to be out, as it turned out. I guess my subconscious just decided this was the night we needed to get out.
Luckily, we were able to run to the box office and exchange our tickets for some just one row back. That put us in the back row of the front section and meant that not only did we get to interact with some of the performers as they passed by, but we also could just hop over the backs of our seats to make a speedy exit at intermission and after the curtain call.
The title of this show is Ovo and the egg is a central prop and plot device. Ovo is directed by a newcomer to the Cirque stable, Brazilian dancer/choreographer Deborah Colker, which shows most strongly in the festive music that often made me want to get up and dance. The show felt more like Varekai than any other previous show--though with much less plot and with a sweet, homemade feel to some of the costumes. I enjoyed the presence of a woman of size and color in the romantic lead role and she seemed like she was having a lot of fun. The acts were good, though in several cases we thought the direction was slightly lacking, leaving an anti-climactic feel at the end. Jason's favorite was the hand-balancing dragonfly, but I think mine may have been the cocooned silks artist emerging as a butterfly. We both really enjoyed the art nouveau style of the metal equipment pieces. All of the performers were insects--bouncing fleas, scurrying ants, leaping crickets, etc. and the theme worked very well in the style. Compared with the resident shows of Las Vegas, the sets were less spectacular--although still really cool--but the acts were more memorable. Of the thirteen Cirque shows I've seen, I think I'd rank this number four.
After the show we strolled back to our car in the lovely, temperate-for-a-change evening, pleased and delighted with how it had all worked out.
I've been excited to try Menton since reading an in-depth article about Barbara Lynch in Boston Magazine last year when she was getting ready to open this new venture in the same building with Sportello, down by the Children's Museum. That interview took place while she was choosing the linen and place settings--she pulled from her bag a stained napkin from Eric Ripert's Westend Bistro in DC to compare sizes--so I was interested to see what she'd chosen. The stark, spare table--white linen over a textured grey skirt, white plate, butter knife, clear water glass, clear glass candleholder--echoed the cool, minimal design of the space. It's not my favorite style--I find that I like my dining rooms to lean more toward warm & cozy--but the lush, sensual food is well framed by it.
Our timing was a little tight--traffic made us 15 minutes late and we did have a show to get to--so I was relieved that we were both more interested in the four-course menu than the seven. Since we were within walking distance of the Grand Chapiteau on Fan Pier, we went ahead and ordered pairings with the courses. First up was an amuse bouche of potato velouté with eggplant caviar and a sliver of toasted brioche. I really need to learn how to make velouté--no matter what it's made of, I always love it. This one was a little salty, but in such a small quantity that was perfect. It was served with a sparkling chenin blanc from the Loire region--sadly, I was mistaken in thinking that their wine list is available online, so I didn't take more detailed notes. It was crisper and drier than chardonnay-based Champagnes and was a lovely way to start the meal.
With our first course, I got a dry Austrian Riesling. It had a lot of the same, rich flavors as a sweeter Riesling, but didn't overpower the fois gras de canarde with Monbazillac gelée, rhubarb ribbon and almonds. That was beautiful--cutting through it reminded me of ice cream cake--and the flavor was delicate and balanced. Jason got a Grüner Veltliner, also from Austria, with less fruity notes, that went particularly well with the shavings of aged goats' milk cheese accompanying his salad of baby vegetables (beets, zucchini, carrots, and lightly pickled parsnips) carved in pretty shapes with nasturtium and chive blossoms. Those were particularly tasty, with a black pepper snap.
For the second course, I got the langoustines wrapped in kataifi over a drizzle of English pea velouté, decorated with shaved rhubarb and pumpkin seed oil, while Jason had the sea bass with chorizo and green tomatoes in a yellow tomato velouté, poured tableside. That had a wonderful taste, warm and smoky, but needed something to differentiate the flavors--perhaps thicker slices of chorizo--and a dash of black pepper to make it truly exciting. I thought they missed an opportunity to sculpt the kataifi into more exciting shapes, but the delicate flavors on the outside really set off the strong, sweet flavor of the langoustine meat. We each had a white Burgundy with this course, Jason's a standard chardonnay and mine an aligoté--which I'm not certain I've ever tried before--each nicely paired to the sweet/smoky flavors of our respective dishes.
My third course was a duet of rabbit with parsley root puree, fennel mostarda, and pithivier. That was a puff pastry filled with finely chopped veal sweetbreads and more rabbit that tasted wonderfully of Thanksgiving stuffing. The circles of rabbit loin were slightly overwhelmed by the salty rabbit jus, but the tiny ribs were intense and delicious and I gave in and picked them up by the bone to eat like popsicles. My wine was a Rosso di Montepulciano, lovely in its complexity and quite different from the more familiar Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. Sadly, the first pour of Jason's red Burgundy was corked--it happens--and our server was so contrite that he not only brought another pour, but came with an extra glass for us to share of a Hirsch pinot noir bottled especially for Menton. Now that was a treat--smoky and complex and just amazing, though it didn't go as well with our food as the pairings did. His main course was the Cavendish Vermont Quail Farci with asparagus, porcini marmalade, and fig, which was equally lovely and we enjoyed trading bites and sips back and forth. "Farci" means stuffed with ground meat; in this case, that meant a bit of fois gras which subtly richened the flavor of the quail without really being noticeable as a distinct flavor.
Due to our time constraints, we had to pass on the additional cheese course, but the sight of it as we left made me even more certain that we will have to return.
For dessert, we were brought a Muscat dessert wine made in open concrete vats--sort of Muscat lambic. At first I was getting a slightly moldy aftertaste--not surprising, under the circumstances--but it didn't set off Jason's allergies as I feared it might and with food was heady and delicious. I was afraid it would clash with my lemon tart--a small, intense custard in a beautifully toasted shell with fresh blackberries and yogurt sorbet served with finely chopped macadamia and a dusting of fennel powder that really intensified the yogurt flavor--but the wine just expanded in my mouth to provide a beautiful context for the sweet and tart notes of the dessert. Jason had the peaches--two different varieties, one sweet and the other tart--served with crème fraiche ice cream.
With our bill came a bowl of miniature macaroons--black sesame, rosemary, raspberry and vanilla, filled with chocolate ganache. Much to my surprise, the black sesame were my favorite.
This was a delightful meal--I think possibly the best tasting menu I've had in Boston--and we will definitely be making a return pilgrimage.
From there it was about a ten-minute walk over to Fan Pier and the Grand Chapiteau. We strolled to the entrance, handed our tickets to the usher...and discovered that we had come on the wrong date. Our tickets were for next Wednesday.
I've never done that before and am not sure how I got confused--when we got home I found it on my calendar next week, where it belonged, and it said Wednesday, July 28th big as life on the tickets themselves. It was also a pretty inconvenient night for us to be out, as it turned out. I guess my subconscious just decided this was the night we needed to get out.
Luckily, we were able to run to the box office and exchange our tickets for some just one row back. That put us in the back row of the front section and meant that not only did we get to interact with some of the performers as they passed by, but we also could just hop over the backs of our seats to make a speedy exit at intermission and after the curtain call.
The title of this show is Ovo and the egg is a central prop and plot device. Ovo is directed by a newcomer to the Cirque stable, Brazilian dancer/choreographer Deborah Colker, which shows most strongly in the festive music that often made me want to get up and dance. The show felt more like Varekai than any other previous show--though with much less plot and with a sweet, homemade feel to some of the costumes. I enjoyed the presence of a woman of size and color in the romantic lead role and she seemed like she was having a lot of fun. The acts were good, though in several cases we thought the direction was slightly lacking, leaving an anti-climactic feel at the end. Jason's favorite was the hand-balancing dragonfly, but I think mine may have been the cocooned silks artist emerging as a butterfly. We both really enjoyed the art nouveau style of the metal equipment pieces. All of the performers were insects--bouncing fleas, scurrying ants, leaping crickets, etc. and the theme worked very well in the style. Compared with the resident shows of Las Vegas, the sets were less spectacular--although still really cool--but the acts were more memorable. Of the thirteen Cirque shows I've seen, I think I'd rank this number four.
After the show we strolled back to our car in the lovely, temperate-for-a-change evening, pleased and delighted with how it had all worked out.