Reconsidering The Donut

If someone were to ask me what my favorite sweets are I'm not sure donuts would rank very high. Sure, there's cake and its more portable cousin the cupcake, pain au chocolate, ice cream, cookies in all their various forms, cobbler and its stupider cousin pie...but donuts? Unless it's fall and they're made with apple cider I can take them or leave them. However, I've recently realized that my issue isn't with donuts themselves. The problem is that I've been eating crappy ones. I blame the ubiquitous Dunkin Donuts for this development. They have saturated the donut market here in New England with their bland, crumbly donuts for too long! We need to rise up and demand hot, fresh donuts, the donuts we deserve. Where did this new found interest in donuts come from, you ask? 

A buttermilk cake donut at 11 pm is always a good decision

Last month James and I visited my cousin in Martha's Vineyard and then headed up to Maine for a few days. We also happened to eat a fair amount of delicious donuts. Martha's Vineyard Gourmet Cafe & Bakery came up with the brilliant/evil idea to sell fresh donuts out the back from 7:30 pm to 12:58 pm for the after bar crowd.

A post-donut walk around Oak Bluffs aids digestion

Back Door Donuts offers a variety of cake and yeast donuts as well as apple fritters bigger than your head (seriously). And if that's not enough you can also get your gigantic apple fritter topped with ice cream for maximum caloric consumption. Luckily, we only stayed two nights, otherwise I would have been forced to continue eating hot, fresh, delicious donuts at 1 in the morning and we can't let THAT happen. 

Several days later we were in downtown Portland, Maine and walked by The Holy Donut, which purported to sell potato donuts. By this point there was absolutely no hesitation on my part: "Oh, that place sells donuts? LET'S GO THERE." At first I thought they meant potato flour donuts but once inside we realized that they were made from real Maine mashed potatoes. I had the chocolate sea salt and James had the chocolate coconut. They were crispy on the outside and cakey and moist on the inside with just the right amount of sweet.  

Over the next few days we mentioned this place to friends and family who lived in the area and each time the reactions were intense: "Oh my GOD. I love that place. What did you get?" The more we talked about the donuts, the more we wanted, well, more. On our way back to Connecticut we made sure to stop at their original location. We got a savory cheddar and bacon-stuffed donut, a maple donut, and another chocolate sea salt because why not. 

However good you imagine this was, I assure you it was even better

I should have followed my instincts and gotten two of the cheddar bacon donuts, but I was dissuaded by James, who does not share my penchant for gluttony and thought it would be "too much." Note to self: never listen to James. 

Beating The Winter Blues At Bartaco

Today is the first day of Spring, but it sure doesn't feel like it. In an effort to escape Old Man Winter, James and I paid a visit to bartaco in West Hartford Center. It has a very South Beach/Miami vibe and is apparently inspired by South American beach culture--definitely unlike anything else around here. When the weather warms up, the front windows open up onto the street and I can just imagine sitting outside on a summer night sipping one of their freshly-squeezed cocktails.

bartaco's menu is partially inspired by Mexican street food and Spanish tapas, so everything comes a la carte. We shared a plate of delicious shrimp, baja fish, chorizo, lamb, and chicken tacos all simply prepared with cilantro and onion. Each table also gets a selection of three different salsas if you want to spice things up.

Next up was the refreshing spicy cucumber salad and their take on one of my obsessions, grilled corn with lime, cayenne, and cotija cheese. It was good, but Toro in Boston is still the reigning champion. Despite the March weather, everything tasted extremely fresh and in season. For the briefest of moments I really did feel like I was on the other side of the equator. Or, at least in Florida.

Sunday Brunchin' At Firebox

Hey, want to hear something awesome? Of course you do. I found my new favorite brunch place in CT: Hartford's Firebox. I've been wanting to go to this place since it opened a couple years ago, but like so many other things in my life, it took awhile to make it happen. But, I am so glad I didn't give up. Everything from the food to the atmosphere is great. See that? That's a DJ! At brunch! In Hartford! It's the kind of place you'd expect to find in a city like Boston or New York, but unlike those places there isn't a 40 minute wait for a table and the prices are reasonable. Firebox is a part of Billings Forge and is housed in a beautiful, old brick building. They are part of the farm to table food movement and grow a number of ingredients in their garden out back.

Doesn't the word 'tavern' make your mouth water? No? Just me?

I had the eggs benedict with salmon pastrami and James had some egg and sausage thing served in a personal-sized cast iron pan. The hollandaise was so friggin good. Next time we go I'm asking for an additional side of hollandaise because I am gross and the accompanying heart disease is well-worth it. Also, salmon pastrami? Did you know this was a thing? I had never heard of it before I ordered it, but needless to say I am now a fan. In the middle is our order of homefries accompanied with a dollop of smoked paprika aioli. I have recently been introduced to the wonder that is smoked paprika, but this aioli took my adoration to a new level. Yet another thing to speed along that heart disease.

 All in all, it was a wonderful, relaxing meal that I'm sure was helped along by the two mimosas I had. It was also really nice to see how they incorporated other Hartford-area businesses and foods into the menu when possible. The toast my benedict came with was from the good ol' Hartford Baking Company. Basically, this is the kind of place that makes you go "Yeah! Hartford could really be something!" but then you look around and realize there's only six people in the entire restaurant on a gorgeous Sunday. I guess the place is pretty hopping during the weekend and happy hour, which is encouraging because this is the kind of place that Hartford needs.

An Afternoon at The Hartford Baking Company

This month I'm participating in NaNoWriMo, National Novel-Writing Month, where participants attempt to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. It is my first time doing this and am happy to say that I am currently on track at approximately 21,000 words--though I'm expecting to fall behind by the end of the week. As such, I have been neglecting the blog. Between teaching, tutoring, and writing a "novel" I haven't had much time or energy to post. My students are busy working on their research papers, which is always a stressful time for them (and me). 

Lately, I've taken to reviewing drafts and grading revisions at cafes in the area that provide a nice atmosphere, good eats, and don't mind an adjunct settling in to grade forty papers. I used to never understand how people would get work done in cafes, but there is something about grading that makes it the perfect activity to do in public. Plus, it makes me feel like I'm still living in a city. I know that probably sounds stupid and nonsensical, but so much of living in the 'burbs is done in private. It's kind of nice to do something as solitary as grading in the presence of others.

Last week I paid a visit to The Hartford Baking Co. while I tackled some drafts.The outside is nothing to write home about--it's located in a strip mall. But don't let the lackluster exterior deter you. Inside it's bright and cheery with a kind of industrial/minimalist decor and an open kitchen. More importantly, this place is serious about their coffee and baked goods.

Let me just say something: This is the best scone I have ever had. Ever.  Granted, I've never met a scone I didn't like, but this one surpasses all others in terms of flavor and texture. So flaky, so buttery, so orange-cranberry-ery! Buy two. One for now, and another for later. You'll thank me for this tip.

Next time: Christmas everything!


 

In Which I Try To Relive My Former Lifestyle One Brunch At A Time

One of the things I miss most about living in Boston is the ability to walk to, well, anything. If I'm going to live in the suburbs, I at least want to live within walking distance of things to give me some semblance of my former city life.

We live pretty close to the small downtown area of Forestville, but as much as I enjoy Italian banquet facilities and closed travel agencies, there really isn't much going on there.

 Luckily, a new restaurant, Garnish, opened a few months ago, taking the place of a sketchy bar where there was a stabbing once. They offer brunch on the weekends and we finally made the walk over today.

I had crepes filled with strawberries and sweet mascarpone cheese, while James had eggs in a basket, which they called Nana's Windowpanes or something like that. Everything was delicious. The crepes were particularly good. I typed god at first just now, but I think it fits. "These crepes were GOD!" Yeah, good crepes are hard to come by around these parts. 

My friend Elizabeth, who lives in the big city, texted me during our meal to say that she was going to brunch, but would call me after--a typical Sunday activity for us. But this time, I got to say that I was at brunch too. See? Us 'Burbans can rock brunch! To which she replied, "We are such middle class white people." Fair enough. 

My favorite part though was when we got to walk back home, basking in the bright April sunshine. Of course, a ten minute walk wouldn't be complete without James complaining about it, but even he admitted that it was nice to be able to get outside a bit.  

Lazy Sunday: The Half Door Brunch

Today I tried to check out the famers' market at Comstock Ferre & Co in Old Wethersfield, but this morning's rain put a kibosh on the whole thing. Boo. No fresh fruits and veggies for me. James and I decided to head towards Farmington and look for a place to eat instead. Along the way I reminded him that The Half Door, an Irish gastro-pub in Hartford's West End, was still serving brunch. Now normally James is pretty indecisive when it comes to food (which makes his association with me all the more puzzling) but as soon as I mentioned The Half Door he was set on it, and with good reason.

Ah, just give me a nice cuppa and room to work on my novel

The Half Door started doing brunch on Saturdays and Sundays about four years ago. I know this because back when I was writing for Metromix.com one of my first articles was about 'Hangover Havens' and The Half Door made an appearance. There's nothing like returning to the scene of the crime the next day, especially when the breakfast is awesome.

The menu takes its' cues from traditional Irish fare, such as the aptly named 'Big Arse Breakfast' or Eggs Benedict served on a bed of corned beef hash. By the time we got there lunch was also being offered, which pleased James even more since he's a sandwich man. True to form, he ordered the corned beef Reuben while I got the Dr. Seuss-inspired Green Eggs and Ham sandwich. I don't know where they get their bread from, but it is amazing. Totally makes the sandwich. I mean, the rest of it was good too but the bread, whether it's homemade or bought fresh from the bakery, takes this to the next level.

My AMAZING sandwich

James' almost AMAZING Reuben

Aside from the food, The Half Door is fun because it's just so darn charming. The atmosphere is very relaxed and has a nice neighborhood feel. Wooden booths line the walls and an impressive selection of draught and bottled beers are offered. James went with a classic Guinness while I went with my ubiquitous hot tea.


We also realized that we missed the first week of the Taste of Hartford, which runs until the 14th. I'd highly recommend checking out the great menus offered by some of the area's best restaurants. And a three course meal for $20.11 is a great reason to go.

I (Heart)ford: Salute

I've been in the throes of a summer cold the past couple days, making it hard to sleep and leaving me without much of an appetite (horror of horrors!) Therefore, writing about food has felt a little odd. But. Must. Blog.

As I've mentioned before I recently moved back to Connecticut. On my first night back after a long, sweaty move James and I headed to downtown Hartford for dinner. We decided to try Salute, recently voted the best new restaurant by The Hartford Advocate and it did not disappoint. They have a lovely outdoor seating area which is quite large, especially for downtown. First, there was this:


Salute's "Almost Famous" garlic bread. If you're at all familiar with the Hartford restaurant scene (I just rolled my own eyes, but stay with me) you may recognize this from the old Hot Tomatoes menu. Several of Salute's owners left Hot Tomatoes to open this place but brought along this customer favorite. When I was a kid they used to sell a frozen version of it in a couple of local specialty food stores in the area (R.I.P Cheese and Stuff) and I distinctly remember that back before my father remarried his nearly empty fridge always seemed to have a loaf of this in the freezer.

The point is, whatever you do, order this garlic bread. Order it as a side, order it as your dinner, I don't care. Just. Get it.

Of course, there is a full menu of delicious Italian-inspired fare as well as chop house-style dinners. I went with the Shrimp Piccata pictured below which was made with leeks, onions, tomatoes, and capers in a white wine butter sauce.

James had the Pomodoro, which was a simpler dish of tomato sauce with garlic, basil, and mozzerella cheese over rigatoni. It was better than mine and a good example of how simple dishes made with super fresh ingredients can be great, especially when good basil is involved.

For dessert we went with the classic tiramisu, which they described as being in 'the traditional style.' It had a thicker texture and a richer taste than other tiramisus I've had--similar to a cheesecake. All in all it was a great meal in a lovely setting and made me feel a little better about leaving Boston for Hartford.



I should also mention that on Mondays their happy hour goes until the restaurant closes, so get down there and have a few then listen to free jazz in July and August across the street at Bushnell Park. Who says there's nothing to do downtown?

Postcard From Vacationland: I Heart Portland (and some other stuff too)

I'm baaaack! Well, technically I got back on Friday but I've been busy unpacking, not fitting into a bridesmaid dress thanks to my lax vacation eating/drinking, and seeing Soundgarden rock out in Mansfield, MA. But, back to Maine.

James and I spent a day in Portland right at the beginning of our trip and we had a great time. I love Portland. It's the city I wish Hartford could be. Not too big, but not too small with tons of restaurants, bars, and small businesses to keep things interesting. Unlike Hartford, people actually live in downtown Portland. Imagine: Strolling down cobblestone streets amid historical buildings while breathing in the salt air....sigh. Anyways, we started the day at the landmark Becky's Diner on the advice of my friend Elizabeth's mother, both of whom are Maine natives.


The food is standard diner fare, nothing fancy. But it's done right and the ingredients are fresh. What more can you ask for?

Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Homefries

I also kept seeing this sign of the lobster and the Guinness everywhere. I couldn't help but think "That lobster's never going to enjoy that pint because I'm gonna eat him first." Nature is cruel.

Around mid-afternoon we popped into a cafe called Mornings In Paris. Cheesy as that name is, it caught my eye as well as a magazine clip taped to the window with a picture of Martha Stewart claiming "These are the best whoopie pies I've ever had!" Oh really? They also had a Nutella latte that I really wanted to get, but my pants told me no. I regret that decision.

The comforting glow of the display case

The whoopie pies are made by Cranberry Island Kitchen out of Portland and they are indeed, the best whoopie pies I've ever had. (Omg...on their website they have whoopie pie cakes! *ahem* Sorry. Cake makes me excited.)

Here's a picture of some espresso chip and chocolate ones we picked up at a gourmet food store in Raymond later on in the week:

After whoopie pie mania we had dinner down by the docks at Ri Ra, an irish pub/restaurant chain with a distinct foodie slant. This deconstructed goat cheese and roasted vegetable tart with spicy tomato jam is definitely a contender for an at home recreation.

And of course, no summer evening is complete without some ice cream. We decided to get our fix at Mt. Desert Island ice cream which had some lovely signage out front:

When Food and Wine Magazine tells you something, you listen up ok?

I had salted caramel and James had coffee oreo. This ain't your momma's ice cream. Flavors there are intense and feature the traditional (cookies and cream) alongside the experimental (Sherry Catalana).

After a day of gorging ourselves, we headed further into the wilds of Maine to my family's vacation home in Raymond. We didn't do too much, which was perfect.

We enjoyed some wild strawberries...

Went on a pretty, yet buggy evening walk...

Ate outside...(the food was still on the grill. Unless baked potatoes with lemon is your idea of a good meal...)

And made the trip out to The Lobster Shack at Two Lights.

Mmmm shore dinner.

If you go, get ready to stand in line.

But with views like this it's worth the wait.

Bye Bye Boston. It's Been Real.

Well, I didn't get through the bucket list but I did manage to make some headway. Plus, I'll be back in Beantown for various reasons over the next few months anyways. Can't stay away. Boston gets in your bloooood.

On Saturday I had a pretty epic last night out in Cambridge with some friends. We hit up ZuZu and recreated this scene from Animal House with a bunch of hipsters, but sadly no togas. Consequently, the walk home looked something like this:


When I eventually woke up on Sunday James and I went to Zaftig's in Coolidge Corner, since he's never been. Normally going there on a weekend automatically means a 2 hour wait. But it was past 3 pm so we were seated right away. Magic! I had some Gravlax to celebrate:



After lunch we drove over to lovely Jamaica Pond:



James and I had a baseball catch (I won) and then we headed up to Cambridge for ice cream at Toscanini's, which has the best ice cream I've ever had ever. Then we walked back to Boston via the Harvard bridge, which I would recommend both for the lovely views and the calorie-burning potential.

The next day I loaded a bunch of stuff into my dad's van and drove back to CT, which wasn't very interesting.

Anyways, I'm going to be traveling quite a bit over the next couple of weeks. First we're heading up to Portland on Saturday to hang out with some friends and then we're going even deeper into the wilds of Maine to spend some time at my family's camp (or vacation home for you non-Mainers.) I'm then going to go to Rhode Island because apparently my life is all about New England-based travel right now. Tough, I know. But I'll be back sometime next month with more posts about food I like to eat, restaurants I like to visit, and things I need to complain about.

Working Through The Bucket List: Grendel's, a Greek festival, and Cutty's

Ever have one of those days (weeks, months, whatever) where you can't get motivated to do anything? Sadly, I have lots of things to do and very little drive to actually do any of them. For instance: it's taken me three days just to write up to this sentence.

Anyways, I'm still working through the bucket list while simultaneously trying to savor what's left of my time in Boston.

Sure, it's fun to go to the Fenway or ride on the Duck tour boats but it's the little things, the ones that come with living in a place for a while, that I'll miss the most--like a moment of unexpected beauty during an afternoon walk to the T stop:

I'll also miss hanging out at a bar where everybody knows my name. Well, most of them. Ok, maybe just a couple of the bartenders. And maybe they don't actually remember my name. But, they know I've been there before. And that's what counts.

Where was I going with this? Oh, Grendel's brunch. Right.


I've written about Grendel's Den in Harvard Square several times before. I mean, it should really have it's own label at this point. When I lived in Cambridge I'd go in at least weekly with my friend Elizabeth. But once I moved across the river and she moved to NYC my visits became fewer and far between. When I found out Elizabeth was coming to town last weekend we decided we had to go to Grendel's and we had to go for brunch. I'm proud to say that we accomplished both those goals with flying colors.

Note: If you're going to spend a Saturday night at a bar and then go back there for brunch the next morning, make sure you don't sit on the same stool the whole time. Try a booth or a chair. Mix it up a bit. Your back will thank you.

As you can see above, I got eggs Florentine. I was told the hollandaise was 'banging' and indeed it was. Also 'banging'? This epic side of bacon for $2:

James ended up joining us for brunch but he forbade me from posting the photo of him enjoying a Reuben. He did allow me to say that it is 'James Approved.'

Later that day, after emerging from the dark confines of Grendel's, we got wind of a Greek festival being held in Central Square. I had missed Hartford's Greek festival while I was in NYC and had been jonesing for a gyro ever since (yes, that can happen.) Luckily these guys were on hand to help me get my fix:

'Hello young lady. You want gyro?'

Just give James a tray of gyros and hang the Greek flag in his eye line and he is one happy camper:

Me on the other hand? A bowl of warm loukoumades, please:


The next day we stopped by Cutty's, a little sandwich shop in Brookline.

I got the eggplant spukie topped with hand-pulled mozzarella and their olive-carrot salad.


While James got a turkey sandwich. Boooring.

Come on. If you'd rather text than eat your food, you've ordered the wrong thing. James.