Liz, my parents and I went to Erbaluce last weekend. It was quite a memorable night for several reasons. Not the least of which was my dad getting a little bit soused and telling the same story about the hazards of flying Ryanair at least three times. He also kept asking Liz if she was poor. Not quite sure what that was about. But hey, it was the night before Easter and the wine was a-flowin’. This was thanks in large part to the incredible generosity of Chuck Draghi, the head chef and co-owner of Erbaluce, who selected several delicious bottles from his collection of Northern Italian wines for us. We had met the chef before both as a server at no. 9 Park as well as in a class on Friulan wine at Stir. It takes a lot to impress my dad when it comes to knowledge about Italian wine and food and Chef Draghi is one of the few in the Boston area who has managed to accomplish that.
This is the second time Liz and I have been to Erbaluce and both times the chef has greeted each table in the restaurant with a small complimentary plate. This time, he brought some grilled octopus that came with a fresh salsa of different tomatoes and herbs. Very nice.
Then came the appetizers: razor clams, scallops, anchovies, and polenta. The razor clams were the winners here, but every dish was quite tasty, and I think an impressive demonstration of Erbaluce’s cooking M.O: simple, simple, simple. The dishes came with just a few subtle accompanying flavors, but above all you taste the fish. Fresh, whole herbs are another calling card of the food here. There will be no little sprigs of rosemary, but entire trees adorning your plate.
Native razor clams steamed with green peppercorns, leeks, and white wine. Delicious, I sopped up all the broth.
Scallops. My dad inhaled these before anyone else could try them so I assume they were good.
Fresh anchovies with lemon, black olive and green beans. Special of the night. The scales were so delicate, I just chomped these suckers down whole.
Polenta with tomatoes. My mom found the polenta a bit coarse and grainy, but Liz thought it was just right.
Next, the pastas: I really want to say good things about them, but the pasta dishes are where Erbaluce strays from it’s own philosophy of simplicity and totally misses the mark. This is tragic since the housemade pasta is actually very good – it’s just lost in the sea of flavors. Of the four pastas ordered, three suffered from this: the pansoti, the gnocchi, and the fusili. My spaghi were a bit better in this respect, but still nothing that special.
Pansoti with sauteed greens, ricotta and a walnut lemon thyme pesto.
Gnocchi in a far-too-soupy ragu of wild boar . The gnocchi broke down into mush sitting in the liquid.
Fusili arrabbiata. The sauce was an odd combination of sweet and spicy.
Spaghi with clams and a tomato bronze fennel broth.
The meal got back on track with the meat courses. The signature rack of boar, the branzino, the veal, and the rabbit all stood out for the emphasis on the taste and quality of the meat itself.
Branzino. They offer to fillet it for you if desired, but how would you suck the eyeballs out if they did that?
Roasted rack of wild boar with a wild Concord grape and lavender mosto. Once again, my dad sucked it down before anyone could get their forks in there.
Lemon roasted veal loin. The sauce was on the sweet side (something that, oddly, was true of several dishes over the course of the night), but that didn’t offset the melting texture of the meat.
The Easter Bunny. Liz barely got through a bite of this, but that’s because she filled up on her polenta and the tasty bean puree that came out with the bread. My dad was flabbergasted at her lack of will and called her “a total disappointment”.
The desserts were just okay. This is the Giandjua truffle.We also tried the orange and chocolate tart. Both were a little too rich for the end of a big meal.
Overall we were very happy with our meal. If the kitchen could get rid of the heavy hand with the pasta sauces then Erbaluce would be my favorite Italian restaurant in Boston.
May 8, 2009 at 1:33 pm
Dear Piercarlo;
I’m glad you and your family had a good time when you came into the restaurant. We still haven’t talked about the wedding, and I’d love to know how it went (maybe see some pictures.)
I’m sorry that you were disappointed with the pastas when you came in. It does seem from the photograph that the gulasch of boar wasn’t reduced enough and thickened properly. The other two pastas; however, are strictly traditional and true to their regionality.
The arrabbiata sauces served in the United States are always the Calabrian type (which was the original,) with just tomatoes, some garlic, and loads of red pepper flakes. This one is a Sicilian version with saffron, pinenuts and raisins (which added the sweetness. Sometimes this version actually calls for honey which makes it even sweeter.)Although some people find it an odd combination,I think that the balance of tart tomatoes (since they’re out of season,) sweet raisins, earthy saffron, and hot pepper is a winner, particularly with the cooling effect of the ricotta. I’ve had Italians from Calabria come in who said they were raised on arrabbiata, and this was the best version they’ve ever had. (Actually, your father was in last week with 3 Italians; they all had the fusilli, and loved it.)
The pansoti are made with a mix of sauteed sweet greens (escarole, lettuces, etc.,) and spicy greens (arugula, mustard greens, etc.,)Some fresh ricotta, as well as Ligurian herbs (marjoram, thyme, lovage, hyssop,etc.)The sauce is a simple walnut pesto and some pecorino with Ligurian olive oil and lemon. The flavors are strong, but they’re supposed to be. Chuck Williams who owns Williams-Sonoma, and who spends huge amounts of his free time in Liguria, actually published my recipe for these pansoti, because he thought it was the best and most authentic version he’d tried in the States. And Fred Plotkin, the cook book author and opera expert who teaches at La Scala, and lived for years in Liguria (he literally wrote the book [the only one I know of in english] on Ligurian food.,) said, in print, they were the best version he’d had outside of a private home in Italy.
Sometimes (and you can see this in some reviews of the restaurants I’ve cooked in,)I get criticised for straying too far afield from simplicity with my dishes. Oddly the criticism is almost always about my most traditional offerings, and not the ones where I’m freely interpreting. These criticisms also,never seem to come from people who are from the region where the dish originated.
I also get called-out for being too liberal with frsh herbs, of which I plea guilty, and I try to go easier with them when it seems to get overwhelming. But simply by not using butter or cream in my dishes (and I am the ONLY chef in Boston not to use huge amounts of butter in every dish,)the flavors aren’t muddied and muted, so the sharpness of the herbs sing out. Also, the freshness of everything is more apparent by not using all the butter, which is what I like best in food-freshness and brightness.
Being Piemontese, and from a dairy region, traditionally my family would use some butter here and there, but the butter there is nothing like the butter here, and we’d never use the abusive amounts that all fine dining restaurants seem addicted to, so I simply leave it out.
I hope this answers some of your questions about these dishes, and I hope you’ll be in for dinner again soon.
Ciao-
Charles Draghi
P.S.-
I don’t know where the sweetness from the veal comes from; I never tasted it. The meat is braised in olive oil and lemon juice with capers. There’s no honey or sugar involved. Maybe the lemons were particularly fruity.
May 18, 2009 at 10:22 pm
[...] | Tags: Bay Village, Boston, Italian, Snobbery | No Comments Dear Chef, thanks for your comments. Your observations about the arrabbiata nicely captures an important point about my perspective [...]