Without any real forethought, Mark & I set out on a weekend away. It was our anniversary and for business reasons, we needed to be in Boston (one of our favorite cities) so we improvised from there, retracing old haunts from Massachusetts to Rhode Island to Connecticut and home. The routes were familiar but the food fest was new and fabulously delicious!
The tickling of the taste buds began in Boston’s financial district at Radius, run by Chef Michael Schlow. From James Beard to Food & Wine to all the Boston Magazines, the awards and accolades are too numerous to count. Lunch was a treat, the flavors of spring were harmonious as well as beautifully presented and accented with the help of some molecular gastronomy.
Although hunger didn’t drive us, the reviews did—we moved on to Providence, where despite passing through a million times, we’ve never spent a minute. Our dinner reservation was at Local 121. As you can imagine, I was drawn there by the attention paid to local fare—from veggies to fish to brews. Honestly, the food of Chef Dave Johnson was among the best I’ve had in a long time. The flavors were complex yet uncomplicated. Without a doubt Mark & I couldn’t get enough of the bluefish pate. You might wonder what the big deal was -- it was smoky yet light, lemony but not acidic—we might have made a meal of the pate alone but entrees arrived and did not disappoint. My honey-miso glazed salmon might make you a skeptic thinking this dish is ubiquitous but I swear it was magical. With no room for dessert, we left vowing to return. We’ve even plotted about routing through Providence on our next trip to Beantown just to get back to Local 121.
It turns out, Providence is a quite a food town. Numerous restaurants, too little time. We considered a movable feast but would have needed a designated driver! We did take in the Saturday farmer’s market, Farmstead Cheese Shop and artisanal bakeries (like a busman’s holiday…). At the market in the park, we found a local fisherman selling none other than smoked bluefish—the very same that is used in the divine pate of Local 121. Unfortunately, we were 36 hours from home so a purchase seemed out of the question. We did find out that the fish monger would be at a Sunday market in CT but…
Fresh fruit smoothies in Newport, pastries on Federal Hill, brunch in the jewelry district and dinner in an iconic Italian eatery, I’m afraid to get on the scale. Despite the range of fare, we schemed the whole ride home about bluefish—would Mt Kisco Seafood have it? Could I smoke it on the grill? Who would debone it?!? The mystery was solved when we diverted off the interstate into small town CT to stalk the fishmonger—as they husband and wife duo were packing up their last few pieces of seafood, we snagged the treasured fish. Inspired by the garden, our shaved beets with mint and tarragon, sautéed zucchini and garlic scape pesto accompanied our dinner in the best restaurant ever—home!
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