An Oldie and a Goodie

I absolutely adore that Boston has become such a foodie city… I seriously never tire of reading restaurant news, plotting out my next destination, and chatting with friends about the next big thing, what’s overrated, what’s undiscovered, and where they simply must go for the best steak in the city – a topic that’s easily more controversial than anything discussed at the recent conventions.

However, Boston’s booming restaurant business poses one very serious challenge: how can one keep on top of every hot new place in the city and still make time to give due to the Hub’s most venerable institutions? Some of which – let’s face it – put the newbies to shame. I have a somewhat shameful admission to make in this regard – though I profess to be a major foodie and something of an expert in Boston restaurants, I have not been to many of the places upon which our restaurant culture was built…Pigalle, No. 9 Park, Icarus, Hamersley's Bistro… the list goes on.

That’s why, when we somewhat inadvertently ended up at Oleana last night, I considered it a blessing in disguise. I am not sure that we can yet label Oleana as an “institution,” but it’s certainly not too far off. Oleana has been lauded by both the local and national press since practically the day it opened its doors in 2001. I think that due to the incredible volatility of running a successful restaurant, we should measure their years sort of like dog’s years. By that math, Oleana is nearly 50… institution here it comes.

I’ve always wanted to go to Oleana, but it’s not at all where we set out for last night. We’d intended to go to the new spot, the Hungry Mother, which is becoming increasingly popular for its southern fare. Now, I need to make another embarrassing foodie admission – I pretty much never remember to make reservations. No reservations, no Hungry Mother. Sad. So, I quickly tried to come up with something near the Hungry Mother’s Cambridge location and, thus, remembered Oleana. Having learned my lesson, I called before we drove over and was told it would be about a 45 minute wait for the patio – given that it was a gloriously warm, dry Friday night in September, I couldn’t help but feel like the gods were smiling down on us.

Oleana’s menu has heavy Middle Eastern influence and the restaurant’s interior décor reflects that, with ochre-colored walls and distressed leather chairs and bar stools, all making for a very pleasant environment to have a pre-dinner cocktail. Seats at the bar also provide a view into the open kitchen where, I was immediately stuck by an almost all female staff. Now Boston certainly has its share of female food luminaries with the likes of Lydia Shire, Barbara Lynch, and Oleana’s own Ana Sortun – but it was still awfully refreshing to see the tradition being carried on in her kitchen. No more than 20-25 minutes after arriving, the hostess came to collect us and bring us to our table.

Oleana’s patio has been named “best alfresco dining” in Boston at least 458 or 459 times. Ok, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but only by a little. Last night, I got the chance to fully understand why… the patio is nothing short of spectacular. A brick terrace dotted with bistro tables is softly lit with lampposts and spotlights, trimmed with tall grasses and delicate bushes, all set to the music of a small fountain. In my version of heaven, I would eat every meal in a place that resembled Oleana’s patio.

The only thing that outshined the ambiance of the patio was the menu. Now I am super biased on this front, as Middle Eastern cuisine is my absolute favorite, but there was not a single thing on the Oleana menu that I would not have eaten in a heartbeat. While generally very decisive, I must have read the menu a full five times before narrowing down my choices to two or three options. To complicate matters, there were also several specials to choose from. I ultimately ended up selecting the pork belly appetizer from the list of specials and the striped bass for my entrée; Paul opted for two “small plate” appetizers of deviled eggs and a bean-nut pate, and the restaurant’s signature lamb for his main course.

Let me be brief – every single dish was amazing. Incredible. Full of flavor, spice, and heat. Delicate plays of light herbs and scents, with more heavy-handed combinations of unexpected ingredients. It was truly fabulous. Again… this meal came within just a hair of being my first-ever A+ rating. Only a few elements of the experience fell short; unfortunately, one of them happened right out of the gate. We waited and waited and WAITED for our first course – a good twenty minutes. Considering that both of Paul’s appetizers were served cold, this seemed beyond excessive. Luckily, once they came they were sublime.

The pork belly was caramelized to sweet perfection, with a crispy coat and tender interior, served with a shot glass of yellow tomato-husk tomato gazpacho, which was smoky and smooth. It was also served with a small salad of cherry tomatoes, cilantro, green olives, sprinkled with almond slivers. The eggs were a star – with the yolks blended with tuna and a healthy dose of Moroccan spice, giving them great depth of flavor, but also brightness from the tang of the fish. The bean and walnut pate was very dense and almost sweet and made for a tasty spread for the fresh loaf of French bread we were served. Immediately I was impressed with the creativity and adventurousness of the food. I was definitely looking forward to our next course.

Happily, our entrees arrived in a much more timely fashion and were beautifully presented. My bass was served in a large pocket of parchment, artfully opened to reveal the fish. It was perfectly prepared to a moist, flakey consistency. It was served with a drizzle of tahini and topped with small pieces of salty, toasted pita, on a bed of peppers and onions, with a side of what resembled salsa fresca (the restaurant refers to it as spoon salad). While all of the elements of the dish were delicious, the peppers were simply too spicy for my liking. I have a moderately high tolerance for hot food, but this far exceeded my liking. This was the only weakness of the meal; first, I felt that the menu should have prepared me for the high heat and, secondly, I felt that the spice diminished the rest of the dish’s flavor. Paul’s entrée was excellent, with lamb cooked expertly, served with sort of a fava bean “mash” and moussaka, which was meaty and flavored with cinnamon.

When the waitress asked if we would like to see a dessert menu, I didn’t even need to. Earlier in the evening when we were being seated, I saw the baked Alaska being carried to a nearby table and knew I had to have it. Baked Alaska is a good dessert, but not one of my favorites. But it was such an unusual option the presentation of it was so impressive, we just had to go for it. Besides, for everything that’s been written about Sortun’s food, there’s been equal attention paid to the restaurant’s pastry chef Maura Kilpatrick. She’s considered one of the best in the city and recently opened her own bakery, Sofra. Yeah, dessert is a must at Oleana. And the baked Alaska didn’t fail to delight with an extra thick coating of darkly singed meringue, hiding a dollop of coconut ice cream on chewy bar of coconut and caramel, finished with pungent swirl of passion fruit sauce. It was the flavors of the Caribbean meets a dish named for the artic – fun (there might have been a moment where I was eating sticky meringue peaks off my fingertips), deeply sweet, and delicious. Paul was so full that he gave up half way through. I preserved and suffered the tummy ache. It was worth it.

I’d give Oleana at 134 Hampshire Street in Cambridge an A. Try to get there before the leaves turn and enjoy some of Boston’s freshest, hip tastes at a place pushing middle age.