Italian
Food porn: ricotta gnudi, sweet 100 tomatoes, nicoise crumble, petite basil
Lunch, when you’re working at the Kittle House, is a daily treat. They call it the family meal, and everyone sits down with an entree of choice to relax in the middle of a shift. Like a smattering of earth, crumbled olives are sprinkled over sweet 100 tomatoes and an unusual preparation of gnudi, which means nude in Italian. Normally gnocchi’s lighter, creamier cousin – made of ricotta, sometimes spinach, and akin to ravioli minus the doughy exterior – this gnudi is made by steeping ricotta balls in sorghum flour overnight, then fishing out the delicious results. Pregnant, newly clothed, and adorned with basil, and roundness echoed in the tomatoes, they’re creamy, indulgent, and oh-so-photogenic.
Getting fat again
So I use “fat” in a tongue-in-cheek way. But I definitely spent the last few weeks watching what I ate, which meant no crazy banquet dinners, dinners of scrambled egg whites and vegetables, and the occasional helping of cheese dip, heaped high with guilt.
As a result, my stomach became a cast iron tank. My collarbone and ribcage took greater prominence. When I lay down, I marveled at how my skin stretched over my gently jutting hipbones. It felt like a lesson in skeletal anatomy.
So on my first day back on Planet Girl, I felt totally free to go on a carb-and-calorie rampage. I was going to eat EVERYTHING and ANYTHING I could possibly ever want to eat. I was going to ignore stomach pains. I was going to consume whatever was put in front of me, especially high in simple starches, sugar, and fats. I was going to try to undo whatever I had done to myself.
The night before, I’d made good work of a ginger-and-scallion lobster dish, a beef/pepper/pineapple stirfry, and a salt and pepper fried squid at Peach Farm in Chinatown. The verdict: the cooking was a bit rushed, and the quality suffered as a result. My dad commented on how slapdash the dishes seemed to be put together, although the beef stirfry was meltingly tender and delicious. Then I topped it off with a half a red bean bun as I stalked around on my 5 inch clear heels, bronzer still caked on my stomach, legs, and arms.
Restaurant Week: Rialto
Restaurant Week is sometimes a tricky proposition. What am I getting for my $33.09? What corners, or portion size, will the sous chef cut from my budget meal?
Will they serve me glorified roast chicken the size of a thimble with a side of potatoes little better than sustainably farmed mush? Will the waitress be overwhelmed that she does little more than briskly administer a few slices of fig bread before slapping down a platter of underseasoned steak, crying into her apron because 18% of 33.09 is um, not very much? Will I be dining with similar clueless plebes with undercultured palates?
At Rialto, I can assure you that at the very least, the first two are groundless. If the waiters felt tip-bereft, they didn’t show it.
Having dined here on a non-RW night, I can say that the service was actually better. Our waiters were charming, efficient, and when one diner requested a different dessert, the switch was made uber-graciously. Chef Jody Adams, whose visage graces the promo banner outdoors, even stopped by to chat. (She didn’t do that when I had considerably pricier meal.)
She explained that since Rialto offered didn’t offer their regular menu in addition to RW offerings, it meant more choices for diners. What ends up getting cut is fancier preparations and pricier ingredients. I could resist but ask how business was during the week so far (always looking for a food story to pitch, after all), and she said business was good. (Expected.)
All of that was true: the bread was not as fancy, nor the entrees as elaborately garnished, but it was a well-prepared and well-serviced, if not memorable, meal. The thing that I don’t like about RW is that the menus tend to be pretty safe, wheres I’m more, “Ooh! I’ve never had calf brain! Let’s get that!” There’s just no danger.
I organized this RW outing for the Harvard Culinary Society so I ended up dining with a group of friendly strangers. It turned out surprisingly pleasant, so thanks guys if you’re reading!
Spring green risotto
Not the most photogenic appetizer. I wished I had gotten the antipasti, which came looking luscious on a wooden slab. A decent risotto, presentation could definitely be more appealing though – a sprig of parsley or something on top perhaps? This just makes me think of that frozen vegetable mix that’s available in every grocery store. Not that it tasted like that.
Roasted whole trout, beans, peas, bacon
Yes, an entire roast trout with the head attached! Also conveniently deboned. Decent, but nothing too earth shattering. I also like my fish to be of the melt-in-your-mouth variety and far moister.
Orange panna cotta, orange almond cake
Probably my favorite part of the meal. I am definitely becoming more of a panna cotta fan.
Chocolate espresso torta, walnuts, bourbon cream
Here’s someone else’s dessert, which looked delicious.
And if you’re curious, or hungry, here’s their Restaurant Week menu:
FIRST
Hearty greens…caciotta cheese, walnuts, balsamic
Beet salad…baked ricotta, pistachios, oranges
Mushroom soup…horseradish cream, buttered croutons
Spring green risotto…asparagus, escarole, parsley
Antipasti… Parma prosciutto, walnuts, figs, shaved Grana Padana
SECOND
3 big spicy sweet potato ravioli…sage, brown butter, blood orange
Local catch…carrots, ginger, green onions, sesame
Roasted whole trout… beans, peas, bacon
Chicken…lemon, asparagus, potato fritters
Grilled flank steak…polenta, peppers, olives
DESSERT
Chocolate espresso torta…walnuts, bourbon cream
Pineapple sorbet…fresh raspberries, coconut rum sabayon, pineapple chips
Orange panna cotta…orange almond cake
