Why are so many urban restaurateurs flocking to the ’burbs? We asked; they answered.
I may be a legend in my own mind, but I didn’t really imagine, when I left Boston last fall after years of churning out, in my sleep, the kind of shockingly original food writing that revolutionized the genre, that half the chefs in town would decamp promptly thereafter, knowing in their hearts they’d never again enjoy the privilege of cooking for someone with both the soul of an immortal poet and the appetite of a raging beast. (Not to mention the face of an absolute angel.)
But even I couldn’t argue with the flattering facts, as I got wind of hordes of local toques heading for the hills.
Okay, perhaps I could. In the interest of something like responsible journalism, I decided maybe I’d better go ahead and ask a few of them just what led them to hie for the hinterlands at the height of their bigcity heydays. Their answers may surprise you — especially since not one involves me. Go figure.
Lydia Shire
Along with maybe two or three others back in the late ’80s and early ’90s (Jasper White and Frank McClelland come to mind), Lydia Shire shaped — painstakingly, by hand — the upscale dining scene as Bostonians know it today. She was serving offal, well before any but the most staunchly French or Chinese chefs dared; she introduced us to the lobster pizza; she ushered no lesser a crumbling institution than Locke-Ober back into the culinary limelight. And now she’s scoring big with Scampo at the Liberty Hotel.
But even as downtowners are rediscovering the Med-style derring-do that made Shire’s Biba such a sensation back in the day, Mainers are marveling over her acute, astute slant on New England cooking at Blue Sky on York Beach (where she’s joined by longtime cohort Susan Regis, of the erstwhile Pava). Think lobster deep-fried in homemade lard. Crispy sole filets with crab biscuits. Hot potato doughnuts. Hmm, suddenly that Pine Tree State grass is looking pretty darned green. How’d they get so lucky?
Q: Why traipse off to York Beach? Why not stay in Boston?
A: I didn’t go looking outside of Boston. It sort of came to me. A man named Don Rivers had taken this beautiful building that had become an ugly eyesore (it’s 100 years old; it was a hotel at one point but now there were skunks living in it) and he was restoring it, and he needed a restaurant operator. In January 2005, he asked me if I wanted to do it. I said I’d decide by Labor Day. It turned out Labor Day weekend was just glorious — the sky was electric blue — and I thought, “Oh my God, I really do want to live here.”
I love Maine. It’s just a beautiful state — somewhat unadulterated, pristine. It’s not rich like New York or Los Angeles; it doesn’t have that glitz, and that’s what I found to be so appealing. It’s kind of a down-home place. I just felt very strongly that if I did something very nice there, but not overthetop fancy, it would be appreciated. There’s a lot of great food in Maine — not far from me is Arrows in Ogunquit; and [Arrows’ chefs] Mark Gaier and Clark Frasier opened up MC Perkins Cove; there’s Melissa Kelly in Rockland and Sam Heyward over at Fore Street — but there’s some room to grow, because [the market’s] never oversaturated.
Q: From a culinary standpoint, how does the location compare with Boston?
A: Here you have to have lobster as a significant part of your menu, for obvious reasons. Our lobster section is pretty large. There’s lobster stew, lobster pizza, ... steamers dipped in lobster butter, which are my favorite.
The one little thing I am trying to do right now is introduce French-Canadian dishes onto the menu — a sugar pie, haddock with a tourtière [a type of meat pie]. I think when you write a menu for a specific location, you try to see what’s around you — and you do take hints from your customers.
Geoff Gardner
That eggplant–goat cheese dip with black walnuts. Those rosemary pomme frites. A rhubarb clafouti whose memory is now some seven years old, but no less vivid or fond for that. Ever since Geoff Gardner left L’Espalier to open Sel de la Terre with mentor Frank McClelland, I’ve been a big fan. Now he’s branching out with a second Sel de la Terre in Natick — but he wants you to know he’ll be careful not to overload the bough until it breaks. When we spoke, Gardner’s determination not to stretch himself too thin was palpable.
Q: Why did you decide to open a second Sel de la Terre in Natick instead of in, say, Cambridge? Or, for that matter, instead of opening a whole new Boston venue?
A: We actually are opening a Sel de la Terre in August in the Back Bay. So it’s not that we’re running away from Boston; we love this city. But Natick has great demographics. It’s an underserved community. We fit that upscalecasual niche, which people in Metrowest are looking for and appreciate. It’s a nice complement to what’s already out there — the larger, more casual, familystyle chains. Also, a tremendous developer was working on [the Natick Collection] who we were excited to work with. It’s just a gorgeous facility. We used the same designer who we used downtown, because part of what we’re doing is building a brand. It’s different than a quoteunquote chain — Sel de la Terre is too handson, too chefdriven, too creative for that.
Q: How’s the outpost the same? How’s it different?
A: The design is not a carbon copy of the original, and the new one we’re working on in the Back Bay isn’t either. Each one is an evolution. The earth tones, some of the materials, some of the design elements are common throughout — very warm, comfy country French. But in Natick, the barslashatrium happens to have 30to40foothigh ceilings, with glass going all the way up. There’s lots of beautiful natural light. So we designed around that.
When we expanded, I could no longer be the round-the-clock chef I’d been for the past seven years. So my [former] sous chef is now the chef at State Street, and the sous chef from L’Espalier, Daniel Bojorquez, is now the chef in Natick. They preserve the rustic French style of cooking, and there are signature dishes — but only a handful. I divide my time between the two locations and work closely with the chefs, but I don’t want to stifle their creativity.
The two chefs do a lot of different things, but I think if they were to switch places they wouldn’t change what they’re doing. One whole category on the Natick menu that’s not on the downtown menu is Provençal tapas. Bojorquez was born in Mexico, and he worked at Masa for a while and does beautiful tapas. But he also worked with Frank [McClelland], he worked with Charlie Trotter, and so he can draw from different cultures and styles. I think it’s a lot of fun.
Michael Schlow
Show me a chef who isn’t restless and I’ll show you, however talented, a cook. Michael Schlow epitomizes the ever-energized epicure. Considering all the Boston cream pies the man has had his finger in over the years — Radius, Great Bay, Via Matta, the gusto with which he’s taken to poking around beyond Beantown is mind-boggling, at least for those of us without such zest for adrenaline. Press him for details, though, and it all begins to make perfect sense. Especially if you do it, as I did, by phone amid the background noise of the MGM Grand at Foxwoods, where Schlow was putting the finishing touches on Alta Strada numero due following the success of the Wellesley flagship.
Q: Hey, why doesn’t Boston boast an Alta Strada?
A: I already have an Italian restaurant in Boston. I don’t necessarily need to create my own competition. Boston is pretty small. The competition for resources, for staff, for customers, is fierce. And ever since I moved to Boston from New York in 1995, I’d hear people saying, “We need more restaurants out [in the ’burbs].” You hear it enough in your own restaurant, and after a while you start to do something about it. My eyes are always open for that next great spot, and I have the luxury to be choosy.
Q: How do your Italian restaurants differ? Are there things you can do at Alta Strada that you can’t do at Via Matta, or vice versa?
A: First of all, at Alta Strada, we have a togo market where you can buy our products fresh. That’s a big change, one that fits suburban needs. One of the most popular dishes that you can’t get at Via Matta is a pasta called sacchetti; they look like little beggar’s purses. Another is the lune [a ravioli-like pasta].
I don’t think it’s really the case that urban diners in New England are that much more sophisticated than [their suburban counterparts]. Take tripe. You’re never going to sell tripe anywhere in New England; in Rome, I could do it. On the other hand, look at what’s happening in Portland, Maine, and in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Those are hotbeds of new culinary talent. Or look at burrata — it’sa very creamy, fresh mozzarella that I get from Campania. Ten or even five years ago, you couldn’t even find it. Now it sells like hotcakes at both Via Matta and Alta Strada.
Dante deMagistris
After coming, it seemed, from out of the “blu” — where he made a splash pronto — Dante deMagistris, joined by brothers Damian and Filippo, quickly took the plunge with Restaurant Dante, the sleek Med hang overlooking the Charles in the Royal Sonesta Cambridge. Now the trio’s backtracking to their hometown of Belmont, where Il Casale is in the works.
Q: We thought you couldn’t go home again. Why Belmont?
A: Ever since I was a little boy, people who knew I loved cooking would say, “Wouldn’t it be great if you opened a restaurant in Belmont Center, right next to your dad’s hair salon?” It’s something that many locals need and are very excited for. We’ve always said, “Yes, that would be nice, but how can we make it work without a liquor license?” Well, now that we can have the first bar and full liquor license in Belmont, the time is right, and the perfect building is available.
My brothers and I started negotiating to open up a restaurant in the Belmont firehouse over two years ago — even before we opened Dante. At that time it was a working firehouse, but now it’s being renovated. It’s a very slow process. When the basebuilding work is finished — and I’m not sure when that will be exactly, we’ll begin our fourmonth buildout. Considering what has been going on with the economy, it’s actually a good thing we didn’t open sooner. We’ve been able to change our business plan accordingly.
What we hope is for Il Casale to be a second living room for Belmont residents in particular, a good oldfashioned gathering place — not only for eating and drinking well, but for seeing old friends and neighbors [and] meeting new ones. Boston already has these types of places; Belmont doesn’t just yet.
Q: How do you envision the dining experience at Il Casale as opposed to the one at Dante?
A: At Dante, many of our diners come for multi-course tastings in an elegant setting. Il Casale will be more casual. Both restaurants serve Italian food; however, at Dante, each dish adds a modern twist. Il Casale will be traditional, home-cooked Italian food like we grew up on. Which doesn’t mean we won’t be adventurous — diners all over are more into eating unique ingredients than ever.
John Moore
You can’t get more iconically local than the Navy Yard Bistro: smack dab in the shipyard, steps from Boston Harbor, it nonetheless caters not to tourists insisting ad nauseum on “chowdah,” but to stalwart Charlestowners seeking bistro-style bargains otherwise hard to come by in these parts. So why does Moore’s sophomore venture, Downtown Bistro and Wine Bar, have to be so far away?
Q: Lynn, huh? What’s the draw?
A: I grew up outside of Lynn, a lot of my family still resides there, and my father worked for the city for a long time. So I have a long family history with it. What’s more, the Office of Economic and Community Development helped me finance it. I wasn’t looking to get an investor; I wanted to finance myself. And they wanted more business downtown.
Q: So it’s a win-win.
A: Yeah, I wanted to be one of the frontrunners. [Downtown Lynn] has the potential to be a mini–South End. But for a 70seat restaurant in the South End, you’d pay $15,000 a month in rent. Here I pay $2500.
Q: How are the economics reflected in the aesthetics?
A: The location in Lynn is more upscale than the one in the Navy Yard; it’s more of a destination spot. In fact, 75 percent of my clientele comes from Marblehead. I tell people we’re Marblehead’s favorite restaurant [laughs]. Also, we have a bigger kitchen, so we can make homemade desserts, homemade ice cream. We plate everything a little fancier, and people order more courses, nicer bottles of wine. And we have to take reservations there, because the customers are definitely more high-maintenance.
Q: Really? More than the city slickers?
A: In Boston, it’s more like people’s second kitchen. I have sports celebrities coming into Navy Yard, and they don’t care — they’ll wait an hour for a table, they’ll take any table. But in Lynn, God forbid if it’s a Saturday night and someone can’t get a table by the window after five minutes [laughs].
Where to find them
Alta Strada, 92 Central Street, Wellesley, 781.237.6100
MGM Grand at Foxwoods, 240 MGM Grand Drive, Mashantucket, Connecticut, 866.MGM.0050
Blue Sky on York Beach, 2 Beach Street, York Beach, Maine, 207.363.0050
Downtown Bistro and Wine Bar, 191 Oxford Street, Lynn, 781.593.3111
Great Bay, 500 Comm Ave, Boston, 617.532.5300
Il Casale, 50 Leonard Street, Belmont.
Locke-Ober, 3 Winter Place, Boston, 617.542.1340
Navy Yard Bistro and Wine Bar, First Avenue and Sixth Street, Charlestown, 617.242.0036
Radius, 8 High Street, Boston, 617.426.1234
Restaurant Dante, Royal Sonesta Cambridge, 40 Edwin H. Land Boulevard, Cambridge, 617.497.4200
Scampo, Liberty Hotel, 215 Charles Street, Boston, 617.536.2100
Sel de la Terre, 255 State Street, Boston, 617.720.1300; 1245 Worcester Street, Natick, 508.650.1800.
Via Matta, 79 Park Plaza, Boston, 617.422.0008
