Fool Me Once...

You know that morning after you've had one too many cocktails? Naturally, I am not speaking from personal experience here, but I've been told that the first thing you think to yourself is, "I am never doing that again." But, then the girls invite you to meet them out at your favorite bar and, well... I think you know the rest.

It turns out, I have a bad Restaurant Week hangover. If you are not familiar with Boston's Restaurant Week, the basic idea is that for two two-week periods each year (usually in March and August - traditionally times that hospitality businesses are a little slower), hundreds of participating restaurants offer a three course, prix fixe lunch for $20.09 (the cents reflect the year) or dinner for $33.09. I am not entirely certain when the tradition started - possibly as much as ten years ago - but, it's been enormously successful and it grows in popularity each season.

I love the concept of Restaurant Week, but the reality of it always seems to fall flat. In my mind, Restaurant Week should be about showing the best the restaurants have to offer, for a reasonably price, enticing you to return and pay full price. This never happens. The menus always feature uninspired, limited courses made with the cheapest, most abundant ingredients possible. The staff is never short of completely annoyed and totally unhelpful. I just don't get it. Restaurants, if you can't make Restaurant Week fun, engaging, and inspiring, DON'T DO IT.

Alas, no matter how many times I swear off Restaurant Week, somehow, I always get lured back in. When I do participate, I have one simple rule - make it worth it. Use the time to explore only the highest-end restaurants and get the most value from the offer. So, when a friend emailed and invited me and Paul to No. 9 Park for the first Friday of Restaurant Week, there was no question that we were going! Getting this reservation is akin to getting tickets to game seven during an ALCS series between the Sox and the Yankees. I was beside myself. Fool.

If you've never been to No. 9 (I hadn't), it's fairly small, with a ten-or-so table dining room to the right and a somewhat more boisterous bar and bistro-like area to the left. Frankly, aside from the slight hum of noise from the bar, there's little difference between the areas - this information will be important later. A lovely, sweet hostess seats us in the dining room, where our friends have already arrived and are settling in. Not long after we sit, the waiter arrives with menus. This is where things all turn south.

They are not Restaurant Week menus. My first thought is that we've made a mistake. To my memory, No. 9 has never before participated in the dinner offering during Restaurant Week, only lunch, and, even when they offer dinner, many of the finer restaurants exclude the weekends. So, naturally, we inquire with our waiter who asks us to wait a moment and shortly returns with the hostess. She explains that they are only offering Restaurant Week in the bar-area, not the "dining room" (God forbid!), and that she attempted to call and confirm the reservation, but was never successful in getting through live (my friend who made the reservation assured all of us that she did not receive a single voicemail).

Ok, here's where the staff had the chance to shine... a mistake was made, and it was unfortunate, but we were already sitting, it was nine o'clock at night, and the kitchen was turning out the Restaurant Week menu for diners ten feet away; make an exception and serve us in the dining room. Should they have done that, I assure you, we would have paid many more visits to the restaurant and happily recommended it to anyone that asked. But, no. Couldn't do that. Being courteous and accommodating would be the kind of thing that a staff that is not disgruntled about serving the riff-raff during Restaurant Week would do. Instead, we were ushered to the bar and asked to wait another hour for our table. I will admit that they served us a complimentary cocktail and bar snack while we waited. Frankly, it was the least they could do. But in the end, the whole experience was tainted all the same.

Are you even still interested in the food? It was superb. It's No. 9 Park, for goodness sakes. Foie gras seared to perfection, served with a tiny patty of duck confit that was one of the finest things I've ever eaten. Soft, tangy house-cured salmon served with micro greens, paper-thin onions, and creme fraiche. A monstrous portion of salty, smoky pork belly served over a bed of creamy polenta and dotted with rich, meaty mushrooms. We finished by sharing one of each of the exceptional desserts - bright fruit sorbets, dense chocolate gateau, smooth citrus tart, and a selection of artisan cheeses.

I'd give No. 9 Park, at 9 Park Street in Boston, an A for the food. Avoid Restaurant Week and go for a special occasion, when you don't mind blowing the bank on a meal. The food and service is sure to outstanding all other times of the year.