Make me a dinner I can't refuse...

I love the North End, but I almost never go. It just seems like there are too many obstacles... it's absolutely no where near where I live, parking is awful, and the restaurants (while fabulous) are more concerned with maintaining the lifestyle of their waitstaff than serving their patrons - which, in fairness, is all very Italian of them. However, when you have an out-of-town guest, the North End is a no brainer - great food in a scenic old-school Boston neighborhood. So, when my dad and brother were coming in for a brief visit, I knew they'd enjoy a trip to Boston's Little Italy.

My brother's plane was due to arrive around 8:30 p.m. on a Wednesday night and I had in mind that we'd head right to the restaurant and get there around nine... would any place in the North End be serving dinner that late during the week? I called my two favorites, Giacomo's and Pomodoro, only to be told by both that they close sharply at 10 p.m. That certainly didn't seem like enough time for a leisurely dinner of catching up with my family.

Seeking a place that was open until eleven, I landed on Strega. Now, I have to admit that I had my reservations about this... I am a fairly regular watcher of the Phantom Gourmet and Strega frequently advertises on the program. If you've seen the ad with the owner, Nick Varano, all chummy with Vincent Pastore from the Sopranos, you'll instantly know the one I mean. It's kinda... creepy. Varano is this huge Italian guy who comes across like he's much more interested in photo ops with celebrities than whether or not his kitchen is turning out anything edible. So, needless to say, my expectations of Strega were limited. But, they were open on the late side and sometimes you need to make decisions on factors other than the food - sigh.

When we arrive at Strega, the decor and service do nothing to improve what I anticipate from the restaurant. With no host at the door, we are vaguely waived towards a table up the back which is free. Despite this slight affront, I feel lucky to get right in - even at the late-ish hour, the restaurant is still packed. The decor is - frankly - a complete fright. It seems to have a split personality between wanting to be hip and modern (a blinding wall of yellow acrylic panels and television sets line the back wall) and wanting to be delicately retro (with art nouveau-style figures painted on the walls). The tables are dinged up and the vinyl banquets are worn. Service remains spotty through the night, though the - mostly native Italian - staff is warm and funny, which helps to make up for long absences between courses.

The first dish out gives me a clue that Strega might offer more than just a chance for Varano to stroke his own ego. We've ordered the fresh bocconcini mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto on a bed of marinated red peppers. The simplicity of the dish, paired with the freshness and quality of the ingredients is spectacular. We also shared an order of the marinated grilled calamari over baby arugula. The calamari was tasty, but it was served in long, thick strips - making it a little chewy and tough. The lightly dressed greens made for a good pairing for the density of the squid.

For my entree, I selected the lobster and crab-stuffed ravioli in a pink sauce. I don't frequently order this dish, as I often find the lack of any discernible shellfish to be a disappointment. Not at Strega. The delicate pasta is jammed with lobster and crab and the sauce is creamy and mild, served with plenty of Italian bread to sop up every ounce. My dining companions ordered the cheese ravioli, veal parmesan, and the chicken alla romana. Based on the appreciative grunts and clean plates at the end of the meal, I'd say everyone enjoyed the dinner greatly. With the time growing later and bellies full of pasta and cheese, we opted to skip dessert and coffees and just enjoyed the remains of our wine.

Interestingly, at the end of the evening, the host finally appears to check on how we liked our meal... he could be a character straight out of a mobster movie at well over six feet tall and two hundred pounds, with a sizable tattoo on his neck. Having chosen to go to the North End to show our guests a little flavor of Boston, it's a fitting end to our night.

I'd give Strega, at 379 Hanover Street in the North End, a B+. Do your best to ignore the mobster movies flickering from the wall of TVs and focus on enjoying some terrific Italian fare. It's good enough to serve to celebrities.

Food: Ten, Looks: Three

Val might have looked like the dumb blonde in A Chorus Line, but she knew a thing or two about the importance of physical attributes. Restaurants may not exactly have "tits and ass," but for a truly great experience, they still need to show a pretty face. There's a reason that Zagat's measures restaurants on four categories and one of them is decor.

The importance of atmosphere was highlighted for me by two dining experiences that I had this week. Ok, way to state the obvious, right? Of course, atmosphere is important. But what really struck me is how it influenced my opinion of the food.

First I met up with some girlfriends at Beehive in the South End. I'd been dying to go to Beehive, so I was very excited when it was suggested for our get together. Despite battling epic traffic and the horror that is parking in that neighborhood, when I finally came through the doors at Beehive, all was forgotten. The restaurant is located in what could be super awkward space within the Boston Center for the Arts. There's a sort of L-shaped dining room upstairs, one big cavernous dining room downstairs with a small stage at one end (Beehive is considered one of the best places in town to see new music acts), and an adjacent bar area which is sort of up on a platform. It could feel really disjointed, but the overall eclectic decor ties it all together in a fun, warm way. The upstairs dining room and bar have a sort of French brasserie feel with dark woods and light walls, while the larger dining room is old school cabaret - straight out of the film Moulin Rouge. Beehive is almost painfully hip and each patron that walks in is more chic than the last.

Matching the decor seamlessly is the cocktail menu... retro and vaguely French-inspired. I was drawn the champagne cocktails and I was a bit disappointed that they were unable to make the Violette, which sounded unique and delicious. I settled for La Vie en Rose, which was sparkling wine with a shot of lychee-infused cognac. It was superb. We decided to share a few appetizers, including mixed olives dusted with parmesan, house frites with sage and sea salt, and marinated Shy Brothers' goat cheese. I was particularly excited about the cheese, as I'd read about the Shy Brothers' Farm (two sets of twin brothers who make artisanal cheese as the third generation on a working farm... interesting, right?). The cheese itself was mild, but unremarkable, but beautifully served in a crock with a drizzle of olive oil and herbs.

For my entree I had the oven roasted chicken with brioche stuffing. I rarely order chicken when dining out, but the stuffing sounded terrific - and it was. It was the highlighted of the meal - sweet, moist, and herb-y. The chicken itself was nicely cooked, with a light, crisp skin - and the portion was huge. I didn't even come close to finishing it. My girlfriends ordered the flatbread pizza, the baked polenta, and the gyro salad (which looked both gorgeous and delicious!). I was also asked to specifically point out that one friend really enjoyed the polenta (served with ricotta and ratatouille).

Overall, the food was good, but nothing to write home about. But here's where the atmosphere thing comes in... part of the reason that I wasn't overwhelmed by the food, was that is was pretty simple - which in a way was perfect, in that it didn't compete with the rich decor. Despite food that was only ok, I am still eager to go back! It was such an intriguing place and I would love to hear some of the music (which we missed). Goes to show, a pretty face can make quite the impression.

Later in the week, I found myself at Stix Restaurant, again with some friends. I'd heard of Stix, but I didn't know much about it. I picked it for a meeting spot because it had a convenient location near both parking and the T, as well as a varied menu for fairly reasonable prices - also, from the photos on the website, it looked very chic and modern. It seemed like a good bet for a group.

As soon as I arrived, I was immediately struck by how small the restaurant was - only 20 or so tables in a long narrow space. And, more importantly, how plain it was. Instead of cool, minimalist, it was more boring, generic - light toned woods, black a-lined seating, and simple cylinder pendant lighting. There was nothing particularly offense about the place, but there was also absolutely nothing interesting or original. It's also worth noting that there were several huge flatscreen TVs around the restaurant, including one right behind our table, which was both an odd fit for the decor, as well as a major distraction.

The menu at Stix is broken into four main parts - the signature Stix dishes, small plates, full entrees, and side dishes. As a group we decide to go for all small plates and dine tapas-style. The waitress was very helpful in navigating the menu and offering some suggestions. We ordered an ample selection of the Stix plates - which are meats or fish cooked on an infused wooden skewer (or "sticks," get it?), and a few small plates and side dishes to round things out.

A few of the highlights included scallops on a ginger-mango skewer seared in orange oil and
sesame, maple salmon on a "mexican fiesta" skewer, and the mushroom ragu side. A definite lowlight of the meal was dessert - warm chocolate fondant, served with chocolate sorbet and a mini strawberry milk shake. The sorbet and shake were tasteless and the fondant was dry. Overall, the food was very good and the infused skewers - while a little trendy, with the potential for hokey - made for full-bodied, creative dishes. Like Beehive, the complexity of the food's flavors, matched with equally intense dipping sauces, might have been too much without the simplicity of the restaurant's look and feel.

Now here's the interesting contrast to Beehive, while the food at Stix was better - the experience will be forgettable, in large part because of the atmosphere. You can get good food at so many Boston establishments these days, a restaurant really needs to go above and beyond to secure a return visit. Stix did not. And I haven't even mentioned the odd way the staff literally started to "pack up" the tables (they fold into the wall) at about 10 p.m., making us feel like we were dragging things out too long and rushing us through dessert. Apparently Stix turns into a lounge/club at that hour. Who knew.

I'd give Beehive at 541 Tremont Street in the South End a B for food and an A for atmosphere. Make a late reservation for the cabaret area so you can catch a local act over a champagne cocktail. Order something simple and soak up your surroundings.

I'd give Stix Restaurant at 35 Stanhope Street in Boston a B+ for food and a C for atmosphere. Go early, so as not to accidentally get folded into the wall when the electronica starts to pound over the sound system. Stick with the Stix and you'll enjoy every bite.

Moons Over My Spare Ribs

I went to college in mid-state Maine. It was the kind of place where you prayed that the snow would be melted for spring graduation, on Memorial Day weekend. Needless to say, we were far enough north that the selection of restaurants was limited at best. High-class dining was the Red Lobster and, if you wanted late-night diner food, you headed for Denny's. No matter the hour, one of my buddies always, always ordered Moons Over My Hammy. He just liked saying the name.

Since moving to Boston eleven years ago, I've wondered dozens of times what it would have been like to go to college here instead of the frozen tundra I called home for four years. I loved going to school in Maine, but there's no question that I would have eaten better here. I'll tell you one thing, if I needed some post-drinking diner grub as a Boston co-ed, I would not have had to be satisfied with rubbery scrambled eggs on toast - and that's because I would have had Myers+Chang.

I knew exactly two things about Myers+Chang before eating there. I knew that it served Chinese cuisine and I knew that it had some extra impressive owners - Christopher Myers, co-owner of Radius, Via Matta, and Great Bay, and Joanne Chang, of Flour bakery fame. While I didn't really have any expectations of the restaurant - aside from the fact that, with parents like that, it was bound to be good - it wasn't quite what I anticipated. The decor is urban and sleek, with maple-colored wood, earth-toned tiles, and mirrored walls, but it's irreverent too. The mirrored walls have grease paint graffiti all over them, the tables are unadorned with white Formica tops, the plush seats are covered in 70s-style vinyl, tea canisters on each table hold small paper menus and utensils (chopsticks only - so do your finger workout on the drive over), and kitschy Chinese decor cover every nook and cranny. The whole vibe is chic Asian diner. I love it.

The staff is pretty much exactly who you would imagine working at a hip SoWa restaurant - young, alternative, artsy. They help keep the casual, but stylish atmosphere going. Their one failing - though to no fault of their own - is that they are all wearing second-hand ("vintage") vests that have been hand-painted with Chinese characters. Maybe I am scarred from my evening at La Voile and the goofy busboy costumes, but I find that I am now vehemently opposed to putting waitstaff into outfits. It made them look ridiculous and it made the very cool Myers+Chang just a little less cool.

I think I might have been especially sensitive to the silly vests because they were so contrary to the demeanor of our waiter, who was funny, sarcastic, direct, and insightful. All of which was terrific, since we needed some heavy guidance on the menu. The menu at Myers+Chang is set up in a tapas-type style, with dim sum starters, dumpling plates, small plates, noodle bowls, and vegetable sides - all intended to be shared and all very reasonably priced at about $5-15 each. Our waiter recommended that we order between three and six items for the two of us - we could always get more as the plates came out. He also offered some input on the specialties of the house, how certain foods were prepared and meant to be eaten, as well as the finer differences between the noodle dishes. We ordered five different items and some cocktails - for me, a sake gimlet, which was delicious. It was dry and slightly sweet with a punch of lime.

The first dish out was the crispy spring rolls, which came to the table still sizzling from the oil. The tender-crisp wantons were wrapped around an abundance of scallions, mushrooms, carrots, and tofu pieces. The rolls were incredibly fresh and tangy, but the pungent vinegar sauce that accompanied them was overwhelming - I skipped it after the first try. The next dish served was one of the true highlights on the meal - braised pork belly buns. If you consider Myers+Chang to be a diner, this would certainly be their version of a burger. The tender, salty pork bellies were served on a traditional sweet Chinese bun (bao), smeared with hoisin sauce, with a slice of tangy and slightly spicy watermelon radish and lettuce. The combination of flavors and textures was outstanding.

Next up was the grilled prawns - whole shrimp on skewers with the head and shell still attached. Having eaten something similar at the China Pearl, I was not surprised by this serving method, plus the waiter had warned us when we ordered it. The entire shrimp is edible, though I do remove the heads. This method also makes the shrimp fairly "fishy" (much in the same way that serving meat on the bone can make it more "meaty"). The shrimp were coated in a tamarind-lime sauce, making them sugary and a little sticky. While good, they were somewhat unremarkable, making it the weakest dish of the night. It is worth mentioning that they were served with fresh, crispy fish chips sprinkled with hot red pepper which were delicious. If you've ever had the fish chips in a standard Chinese restaurant and wondered how exactly they were different from Styrofoam peanuts, having the fresh ones will make you realize what you were missing.

Unbelievably, two of the best courses were still to come. First, the tea-smoked pork spare ribs. From what I've read about Myers+Chang, this is truly its signature dish - a fact that was reemphasized by our waiter's enthusiasm when we ordered them. They lived up to their reputation - smoky and sweet, with meat so tender that it just falls right off the bone. The ribs aren't saucy - the earthy flavor was imbued in the cooking process and is enhanced by a light crust of peppercorns and tea leaves, which gives the dish a little bite of spice, as well as a nice textural contrast. We end on a bowl of beef and broccoli chow fun. I was more tempted to order the wok-charred udon noodles, but as soon as the waiter described the chow fun as "Chinese comfort food," I knew the battle would be lost to Paul (who began drooling at this description). I can't say what we might have missed with the udon, but the chow fun was spectacular. The thin strips of meat were nicely grilled, served in a deep bowl of wide rice noodles and long strings of broccolini, drenched in a salty, spicy brown sauce that gave great depth of flavor without being overpowering.

There is no dessert menu at the restaurant, which is just fine... the small plates are so tasty, you are better off just ordering more of them if your appetite is still lingering at the end of the meal. Plus, all diners are served a sweet treat from Flour just before the check is delivered. The night that we were there, it was a dense lemon mousse, sprinkled with coarse sugar and candied ginger. It was like licking the frosting off of a cupcake - creamy and delicious.

I'd give Myers+Chang, at 1145 Washington Street in Boston, an A-. Next time you are out on the town - behaving more like you are 20-something than 30-something - and you need something of substance, don't settle for a place that names it's eggs after old movies. Tuck into some bao and noodles at Myers+Chang and you'll recognize what you missed by not going to college in Boston. Your order is up.