We hit the streets of Boston for a foodie road trip with Chef Dante and Chef Louie for the spring issue of Scene Magazine. Stay tuned for updates soon!

Based on a rather thorough understanding of science fiction, time machines can be expensive. So, when the mood strikes for a little turn of the century sophistication, we’ve got an easier alternative. Few Boston destinations have more respect for their own history than the Oak Long Bar, inside the opulent Fairmont Hotel at Copley Plaza.

By Christopher Snow – Photographed by Jazz Martin

Partially. What were once the Oak Room and Oak Bar — hundred-year-old icons of Boston dining — have been tastefully renovated into a single, larger space. The towering room is still neoclassical in design, retaining the original baroque plasterwork and capped by vaulted ceilings. Glass chandeliers now illuminate the all-important long bar, which wraps no less than eighty feet around the dining room and, ironically, is made of the first actual oak ever brought into the space.

Thankfully, the menu has lost none of its splendor in the transition. Instead, it’s been expanded to accommodate a more social experience. For example, we began the evening with a bar-friendly charcuterie board, evidently a popular item, judging by the tabletops around us, which were crowded with Newbury Street patrons even on an ordinary Wednesday night. This “LBK” board (that’s “Long Bar Kitchen”) is a pallette of exclusive cuts, including smokey speck, low-salt coppa, porchetta that’s fatty and moist, and dry sopressata sausage. Accompanying is a selection of regional artisan cheeses, including a remarkable bleu from the Berkshires that starts off oceanic but finishes tart and spicy, as well as a rinded Cabot cheddar, and cave-aged Landaff from the White Mountains. Herb-dusted crostini deliver all this deliciousness to your mouth, and make a good home for condiments like an orangey citrus jam and whole seed mustard.

After the LBK board’s dried, salted, aged morsels, a bit of freshness might be due. For that you should turn to the beet salad. The best preparations of this dish are sweet, and Oak’s version overcomes the red and yellow beets’ tartness with a pervasive maple syrup vinaigrette, the flavor of which is also carried by whole walnuts.

Another fresh option would be the oven-fired mussels, which arrive in a cast iron skillet and represent a mussel connoisseur’s dream. You see, for true fans, prying open the shells is only half the story. The real treat is, say it with me, dunking your bread. Oak Long Bar knows this, so instead of simply relying on their rich, savory base, this restaurant’s broth is populated with ingredients like peppered tasso ham, whole cherry tomatoes, and long strips of fennel. The dunking stage won’t just result in soggy bread, but a satisfying second half to an already delicious course.

Before entrees, we made our own contribution to the room’s gregarious vibe, by hobnobbing with Executive Chef Stefan Jarausch. Though you wouldn’t know it from his cooking, Jarausch grew up in Germany. But it wasn’t until a journey to France that Jarausch’s culinary style was set in stone. He spent four years in Lyon, then traveled overseas to begin a career in America that’s lasted nearly two decades so far, including associations with the Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company, the Chase Park Plaza Hotel in St. Louis, and the Madison Hotel in Washington D.C., before taking over as Executive Chef at the Oak Room in 2008. Eager for feedback on some of his latest creations, Jarausch offered to bring out a few dishes that aren’t on the menu yet (but might be by the time you read this).

The thing about pork belly, the first of Jarausch’s ideas for next year, is that it’s more than just a hunk of bacon…though that would hardly be an insult, we suppose. The fatty tissue literally melts down in the warmth of your mouth, a buttery indulgence for practiced carnivores. Still, you’ll need some extra flavor to pair. Good thing there’s the thick, syrupy reduction on which the meat rests, as well as halved grapes and cherries to encourage smaller bites.

Jarausch’s ossobucco, which may also debut next year, behaves similarly to the pork belly: once again the fatty tissue breaks down on your tongue. However this is not a characteristic that’s normally associated with the dish, so we’re twice as impressed. The often-tough veal shank has been braised to shocking tenderness. In fact, we literally hand-pulled the bone from the meat without any resistance. A dark, fruity glaze surrounds the meat on all sides, lending each bite moisture and just enough sweetness.

Expect the brand new duck entrée to also be a hit. The meat itself is expertly tender, and rests on a bed of small black lentils. They stick to the slices of duck, so it’s your option to encrust each one. And we suggest you do, since the beans add texture and an earthy flavor complement. You’ll also find sides of cabbage and root vegetables here, but note the attention to detail: while the cabbage is pickled and citric, the other vegetables are caramelized and sweet.

Of course it’s hard to go wrong with any of the Oak Long Bar’s historic favorites. Javier, our waiter and fifteen-year veteran of the restaurant, brought over some classics and recited their ingredients with ease. The glamorous two-pound lobster is split in half for bib-free access and rubbed with harissa, a hot Middle-Eastern chile paste. The shells are flanked by a medley of vegetables that take on the spicy flavor, as well as nutrient-dense kale that’s toasted and salted like a chip. We also have nothing but praise for the sixteen-ounce “bone out” ribeye, topped with buttery and sweet grilled marrow as well as a dollop of melting roquefort blue cheese and salty, flaky onion rings. The meat itself is nigh on perfect, with a crispy sear all the way around and a moist, pink interior.

The Oak Long Bar is located at the northwest corner of the Copley Fairmont Hotel in the Back Bay. Entrées can reach $35 or $40 but by no means are you “paying for the atmosphere,” this is signature Boston fine dining of the highest order. The new design’s atmosphere is less suited to a serious sit-down, and more appropriate for a gathering of close friends or a first date you really need to impress. Hopefully they’ll be as impressed as we were.

Fortunato Conte

Pastry Chef at Il Casale and Dante Restaurant

Keeping strong roots to his Italian heritage, Fortunato Conte of Il Casale and Dante Restaurant knows where his talent lies. Little did he know that his part-time job in a pastry shop in Salerno, Italy would change his life. Now, nearly 20 years later, Conte enjoys creating new desserts but respects the classics that never disappoint.

When did you find yourself gravitating toward pastry? Pastry was a coincidence. Working in the pastry shop in Italy started as just a job but I realized how much I enjoyed it. I then realized that I could only learn so much at a single bakery, so I began working at different pastry shops because each is set up differently and you learn much more from working with different people.

Are there current trends in pastry? If so, what are they now? Are you using them? I am not so much into molecular gastronomy. I think everyone will eventually return to the classic desserts. Classic food never dies and people want to eat food that they know will satisfy their craving. Coming from Italy, I like to stay true to my heritage with Italian desserts. I like to be who I am and stay Italian.

Do you have a vision or a goal in mind when you create a dessert? I have lots of visions and many things I want to try in a plated dessert after baking for 20 years. Sometimes I feel it is better for me to keep desserts simple but with exquisite taste. I also like to redo past desserts that were popular but change them just enough to keep it new and fresh. I want to make desserts that people like, want to finish and want just a little bit more.

What is your proudest moment in your career? My parents made a lot of sacrifices for my family; it was my father’s dream to come to this country. I am proud that all of their hard work was worth it.

What is something an amateur baker can make to impress guests at a house warming party? If you want to challenge yourself try a crème brulee. If you can cook crème brulee perfectly then you have a very good idea of what baking is all about.

The moment we walk into Sorellina we are greeted by two cheery hostesses. This is a new venture for us both – a spot that was suggested to my friend and I by co-workers – and the attentive and upbeat welcome sets us off on the right foot.

By Marissa Giambelluca — Photographed by Jazz Martin

We’re at Sorellina, hoping to catch up with one another, sure, but really just making conversation until the bucatini comes. My friend Sara stifled a yelp when she saw it on the menu. She explained that it is a delicious, old Roman dish that is extremely hard to come by. She orders it for me, having agreed in the cab that we would order for each other as a fun way to spice up the evening. I smile, knowing she now wishes she could order for herself.

Our waiter, Mark, seems shy at first, but once I ask him to make suggestions for the communal dishes he opens right up. He is even sweet enough to point out Executive Chef Steven Morlino as he passes by our table. I ask Morlino what kinds of dishes he would recommend, to which he responds, “I like fish. One of my favorites right now is the halibut.” This excites me because Sara ordered it a few moments ago. Morlino goes on to explain in detail how some of the dishes are made, speaking with enthusiasm about the process as only a chef would.

After a quick chat, I let him get back to work because he seems eager to do what he loves and my friend and I are eager to devour it. Out first are the carpaccio and the baby beets. I try to hide a smirk as my friend begins eating without question. As I put my fork through the beets I realize I have never actually had a beet before. I expect it to be very tart or bitter but it is rather subtle and pairs perfectly with the goat cheese and clementine vinaigrette. Sara seems to like the venison because she finishes her appetizer before I can even ask for a bite.

Next, my friend’s eyes pop open and abandon any concentration on the words coming out of my mouth, a signal that the waiter must be coming with the pasta dishes. I take a moment to appreciate the bucatini after hearing so much history on it and being made aware of its rarity. I prepare to fend off Sara’s fork but it is already deeply implanted in the maccheroncelli I ordered for her. I am a fiend for meatballs and I know she must be too because she eats them quickly and lets out a satisfied sound when the pasta is finished.

Before I can even contemplate ordering more pasta because I am so pleased, the main dishes come out. That is the halibut with clams, veal chop and the braised short rib. At this point we both know it is a free for all and if we want to try something we better try it quick. I put a portion of each dish on my plate and begin, immediately loving how juicy the short rib is. I feel bad ruining the perfect presentation of the veal chop but quickly lose that feeling when I taste how amazing it is. I even go as far as to steal some off of my friend’s plate – a move she does not let happen without a fight. We laugh and I can’t help but tell her, “You ate venison before, you know.” She puts up her hands as a sign of surrender.

“I know, I know. I’m not dumb, but it was so good! And plus, look at you. You’re eating clams!”

And she’s right. I am literally scooping up a clam from around the edge of the halibut as she says this. And it’s just so good. I mentally take it off my list of things not to eat.

It’s not until the desserts come out that I see Chef Morlino again. He is accompanied by General Manager Dominick Minots, who is very friendly and happily answers my rapid-fire questions. Sara and I work on the chocolate mousse, citrus cake and poppy seed cake while I ask Minots about what makes Sorellina stand out. He hits the main reasons right on the head, “Great food, great service, great ambiance.” It’s when I ask them both to delve deeper that it begins to come together. Mark says, “We provide an exemplary dining experience. You don’t just come here to eat, you come here for the whole experience.” To which Minots quickly adds, “I think it starts from the moment someone picks up the phone to make a reservation to the minute that they leave. How they’re greeted at the door, how we say goodbye and everything in between.”

I think over our experience at Sorellina, how we started out with a hunch about rare Roman dishes and a desire to trick one another into eating something new. And how it ended up in the best possible way; two people enjoying each other’s company, but more importantly enjoying every last bite of food. And then I realize the meal is over and I look at Minots for one more chance to prolong the moment. I ask him if he ever tries to do some of the cooking to which he shakes his head and says with finality, “I couldn’t hold a candle to what those guys do back there.”

It’s not until the following day, while I try to keep my pasta from overcooking that I say out loud, “neither could I.”

When perfectly prepared, it is a study of textures, temperatures and deliciousness, yet its appearance is understated…humble. Don’t be fooled by the cheap garnish of a bag of potato chips and pickle that are often serve as an accompaniment; if you were blind-folded, the experience of eating a lobster roll would be as exquisite as almost anything you could put in your mouth. This dish is a metaphor for New England culture: rich in content, unassuming in its presentation.

By Jasper White – Photographed by Jazz Martin

A true Lobster Roll is served on a buttered, griddled New England style hotdog bun. The cut, flat-sided bun is essential and standard, so the difference in most lobster rolls is the lobster salad; usually it is made with mayonnaise, celery and a small amount of onion. I make a special mayonnaise and use cucumber instead of celery and chive instead of onion. Some people omit the onion all together. One exception is the lobster roll made in Connecticut where the bun is stuffed with warm lobster meat and served with drawn butter. It’s not my favorite, but many people love it. It goes without saying that good, fresh lobster meat is essential; all of the places mentioned in this article use fresh meat. I prefer a larger ratio of knuckle meat, because it is so sweet – others like Red’s Eats in Wiscasset, Maine use a whole chicken lobster. It’s not a matter of better, it’s a matter of style – they are all terrific.

I find it most fascinating that the lobster roll, which once was exclusive to New England, has become a dish that is embraced and beloved all across our country. A few years ago the New York Times did a feature on the best lobster rolls in New York; who would have guessed that? This year in early June I am competing in NY at the first “Lobster Roll Rumble” where chefs from across the US will compete – the judges include culinary mavens such as Martha Stewart. Like BBQ, this dish has captured the imagination of foodies all over and has transcended its humble origins. All said and done, however, I’ll stick to eating my lobster rolls in New England.

Jazz’s Notes: This was definitely one of my favorite articles we have ever done. First off, I am a lobster roll fanatic! Ted’s Fried Clams in Shapleigh Maine has a wonderful one for $9.99 (I usually get 2!). Unfortunately, we did not include them on our list, but we got to try a long list of great places. ( Summer Shack, Red’s Eats, The Clam Shack, Raw Bar, Woodman’s, Clam Box, Evelyn’s Drive In, The Barking Crab, Kelly’s Roast Beef & Abbotts. ) My personal favorite was B&G Oysters! I was challenged by one of my twitter followers to check out Neptune Oysters, so I will follow this up with a comparison. Cheers!

During the 1920s, the Stanza was a speakeasy, where people came to relax. Later, it was a men’s club, where Riccio’s father and grandfather went to smoke cigars and play cards. As a child, he was not allowed to follow his father inside the club, so its initial appeal was one of mystery. As he grew up, his sense of curiosity developed into a deep passion for the culture of cigar smoking.

☆ By Christopher Cagliuso ☆ Photographed by Jazz Martin ☆

The Stanza’s charm is largely its warm atmosphere, which is driven by Riccio’s staggering collection of rare cigar-related antiques and memorabilia, dating as far back as the 19th century. From his almost two hundred year old “guillotine cigar cutter” (which is exactly what it sounds like), to his cigar labels with images of each Beatle, to his 1940s cigar vending machine, to his various antique humidors (small chambers designed to optimize the climate in which cigars age), to the statue of Al Capone complete with cigar in hand, the collection is the work of a man who loves what he’s doing.

More than that, the collection is also the work of a man who knows what he’s doing. While Riccio finds some pieces – like the beautifully crafted guillotine cutter – in antiques shops, many of the more subtle parts of the collection were purchased at flea markets for only a few dollars. “People get rid of that stuff,” he says of some of the rare cigar boxes adorning the walls, “because they don’t know what they have. But I read books on all this, so I can tell when something is very rare or very unique.”

Because of his keen eye for rare and beautiful works of old cigar culture, the Stanza has the feel of a place lost in time. And that’s the idea. “I wanted this place to feel like you’re walking into an old speakeasy,” Riccio says of his vision for the Stanza. “Or you might feel like you’re in your grandfather’s living room.”

In addition to providing the place with an authentic feel, the Stanza’s collection is a tribute to the lost art of finely crafted pieces of cigar artwork. “The workmanship in those days,” he says referencing the guillotine, whose fine woodwork and blade have aged well, “I mean, nowadays they make cutters out of plastic. But [I want] everything in this place to look old and natural.”

Make no mistake, though. The Stanza isn’t only about antiques and tributes to days gone by. For cigar aficionados, it has serious offerings which can be enjoyed inside the bar in a comfortable leather chair or booth, thanks to the City of Boston waiving its ban on smoking indoors for the local landmark. Riccio estimates that he features thirty-eight to forty different top of the line “facings” (aka, brands) of cigars at any time, including household names like Davidoff and Montecristo. When someone orders a cigar, a waitress (all of whom are knowledgeable about the merchandise) presents it on a tray and asks how the customer would like it cut and lit. “Again,” Riccio says, “in the ‘20s and ‘30s, that’s how cigars were served… It’s the romantic way to do it.”

The Stanza also features a room with many humidors where regular customers can store and age cigars to smoke later. The room itself is small and comfortable, the kind of place cigar smokers might enjoy one they’ve been saving for awhile. While not everyone has a special humidor at the Stanza, Riccio estimates that fifty to sixty percent of his customers are regulars, and a large percentage of the rest are cigar lovers from out of town who’ve read about the Stanza in places like Cigar Aficionado, which rated it one of the ten best cigar bars in the United States. Like Riccio, they are all people who appreciate the increasingly rare setting of a bar that sells high quality cigars you can smoke immediately in a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere with your friends.

With Stanza dei Sigari, David Riccio has achieved an uncommon thing. Without gimmicks, and through a dedication to authenticity driven by his relentless passion for the culture of cigar smoking, he has built a collection, a bar, a small corner of the world that captures the beauty of nostalgia. “The Stanza and David,” one of the regulars said to me, “are the last of the Mohicans.”

He may be right about that. But based on the number of relaxed, happy customers at Stanza dei Sigari, the last Mohican will be around for a long time.

The new Hingham destination is best known for its Executive Chef Paul Wahlberg, older brother to actors Mark and Donnie Wahlberg. But, at least to me, this doesn’t seem entirely fair. Chef Wahlberg’s command of Italian cuisine is more than worthy of recognition independently. His restaurant impressed thanks to modern design, an outstanding location, and of course, a sophisticated and well executed menu.

By Christopher Snow – Photographed by Jazz Martin

We arrived to an entirely packed house, even on this Thursday evening. Taking advantage of the restaurant’s prime harborside real estate, orange rays gently beamed into the open-concept dining and bar area. Fine masonry flanked walls of cream and grey. Despite the floor plan, the dining room was able to retain its intimacy, thanks to minimal artificial lighting. Ambient music however, was anything but minimal. While not quite nightclub levels, the music is loud enough to notice. It’s contemporary meets classic, and in this case the two jive well. Yet all this was outdone by the gorgeous outdoor wrap-around patio, enclosed by sheet glass walls and featuring two glass and stone fire pits for outdoor dining or cocktails.

Our leading antipasti was a salumi platter of cured Italian meats. Each was robust and distinctive from one another, served alongside accoutrements like fine olives and cheeses. This platter changes almost everyday according to either the whims of Chef Wahlberg or the individual requests of patrons. Complimenting the salumi, Alma Nove’s well done beet salad arrived next. Numerous varieties in an array of colors populated the dish, causing each bite to range unpredictably from tart to sweet. Adding to the sweetness was a delicious blood orange vinaigrette drizzled atop the root vegetables, and finally a bit of goat cheese for textural variety.

Of the starting dishes, our favorites were the homemade cod cakes and the wild boar confit. Wahlberg’s cod cakes were among the best I’ve yet encountered – crispy outside, moist inside, and served with a bit of black olive oil and drawn butter dipping sauce. The cakes were devoid of breadcrumb filler, instead relying only on the outside pan-sear to heighten the fish’s flavor. At the other end of the animal kingdom, the wild boar dish was intensely flavorful thanks to the fat-rich firing method and a thick, dark plum glaze. Soft strozzapreti pasta is intertwined with the tender meat, and finally garnished with bits of guanciale, Italian bacon cut from the cheek or jowl.

Looking around between courses, the wait staff hustled, but wasn’t flustered. Nearby diners reported their servers were friendly, attentive and fast. During the downtime, Chef Wahlberg took the opportunity to explain the philosophy of his cooking to us.

“The kiss of death for many restaurants,” he said, “is you have to be able to constantly reinvent yourself, but without alienating the regulars.” A veteran of food service since his first catering job at age 16, Wahlberg has worked his way through plenty of diverse kitchens. “At the same time,” he said, “a great restaurant needs staples for people to crave. A customer should never say ‘that restaurant was great, but there’s nothing specific I’d go back for.’”

Thankfully, next up was one such dish: the Italian “paella.” Not a true paella of Spanish origins, but actually a shellfish risotto infused with saffron. Wisely, the strong spice was restricted to a subtlety, leaving room on the palette for creamed littleneck clams and seared shrimp, as well as the rice itself. This risotto, an easy-to-learn but hard-to-master class of Italian cuisine, was entirely successful in Wahlberg’s hands.

Equally competent were the chef’s treatments of fish filet entrées. Alma Nove’s Atlantic salmon was cooked perfectly and nicely crisped on top. Biting into the dark pink meat revealed welcome hints of citrus and cilantro, and a pickled radish made for a unique garnish. Wahlberg’s swordfish also stood out. He allowed the thick, wood grilled steak to stand almost entirely on its own, with minimal dress and just enough spice outside. But first-timers take notice: this meat rests atop the coveted lobster mashed potatoes, quite literally the best take on this mainstay I’ve ever sampled. If swordfish isn’t your thing, the lobster mashed can still be yours as an inexpensive side dish.

Finally, the favorite of the evening: grilled veal tenderloin. The meat arrived perfectly tender, flavorful and, again, prepared simply. Alongside, black truffle ravioli coated in foie gras butter. Traditionally, Wahlberg tells me, this type of ravioli is served with white cranberry, but he opted to let the savory elements dominate. The result is an absolutely delicious creation and the one I’ll be returning for.

Desserts were traditional. We sampled the carrot cake first, which was moist and fluffy on the inside, however the smooth butter cream sauce stole the show. The chocolate sour cream cake was even better. Thick both in size and consistency, the dessert traded flour for flavor, resulting in a dark chocolate indulgence closer to fudge than cake.

Alma Nove is located at 22 Shipyard Drive in Hingham, MA at the shore of the recently overhauled Hingham Shipyard. Antipasti and salads range from $7-13, while pastas and main courses top out at $29. Desserts are all $6.50 and sides are all $5, except for the spectacular lobster mashed potatoes, which will run you two bucks more. Interestingly, the name Alma Nove is derived from the family matriarch Alma Wahlberg and her nine (“nove,” in Italian) children.

Between Chef Wahlberg’s culinary precision, awareness of the customer’s thought process, and his wait staff’s effectiveness, it’s clear that—despite the celebrity link—the diner plays the starring role at Alma Nove. Still, Chef Wahlberg admits whenever his brothers are in town, they make a point to stop in. So if you’ve got a bit of paparazzi in you, Alma Nove makes a nice spot to camp out, and enjoy a top quality meal while you’re at it.

And just when you think all the fun is over, Big Z comes rolling down the street on a bicycle!

When I heard that Zdeno Chára was rolling around the streets of the North End with the Stanley Cup I packed up my camera and headed on a manhunt. Sometimes fate smiles down on us and today I owe the important intel to my co-worker Lauren, who let me know that Tia’s on the Waterfront is where the party was at. Thank god for social networks!

And a quick google search for Bruins at Tia’s turns up a video of me shooting pictures of Tyler Seguin with the Tia’s girls! (one of whom happens to be related to the legendary Tom Barrasso.) I love the internet!

Keep rubbing that mojo off Tyler! I want to see you holding Lord Stanley many more times!

A special thanks to my pal Lori Lilly who helped me get a prime spot to take some pictures! Just another reason why I love Tia’s on the Waterfront!

Tico’s mantra of “anything but traditional” makes for an energetic buzz that hits you the moment you enter the restaurant. Oranges and purples are illuminated by light fixtures in every shape and size.

By Katie Pelczar — Photographed by Jazz Martin

We arrived early in the evening, as the after work crowd was filtering in, and spent a few minutes in the bar. The bar is where the energy begins. Slowly, the area began to hum, and the wave of energy spilled across the space as the night went on. Late in the evening, the tide receded, leaving much of the restaurant hushed. But not for long. The swirl of energy concentrated at the bar again, as the who’s who of Boston’s restaurant scene filed in for post-shift blood orange margaritas.

As we sat down, the table next to us was embarking on dinner. I smiled at the group of men, with their loosened neckties and half-full drinks. A server had just placed a handful of small plates on their table, and the gentleman closest to me was digging in.

“Oh man,” he moaned, “Oh yeah, oh yeah.” I now know how those deli patrons must have felt in Meg Ryan’s famous ‘When Harry Met Sally’ scene. My cheeks flushed as the adjacent moaning continued. “Oh yeah, this is the best thing to happen to corn since bread!” he mumbled.

I had no choice, “I’ll have what he’s having,” I told our server.

I have to admit that I almost moaned myself. The creamed corn with bacon, chilies and Thai basil is a brilliant balance of smoky, sweet, spicy and rich. The corn is both firm and creamy, fresh and deep, a true introduction to Chef Joshua Smith’s mastery of balance. Chef Josh is a self proclaimed ‘meat geek’ having studied meat science in Iowa and spent much of his career perfecting the art of charcuterie. So it should be no surprise that the two texture beef tacos are actually my favorite dish on the menu. Sticking true to Tico’s mantra, Chef Josh braises short ribs for an incredibly tender, yet nontraditional base, and tops it with crisp bits of beef, chopped cilantro, sliced radishes, and morita chilies. The tacos are served with a little wedge of lime, and it’s not just for garnish, as the acid of the lime elevates the rich, spicy beef and brightens the crisp radishes for contrast.

You might also try the fried manchego with pomegranate sauce, a kind of grown-up play on mozzarella sticks with marinara. The mushroom and cheese quesadilla with truffle salsa is earthy but surprisingly light and crisp. The shredded cabbage salad is a study of textures. The soft but crunchy cabbage, along with bits of sweet zucchini, crisp asparagus, and meaty crushed almonds are elevated by a pesto-like salsa verde vinaigrette. “This,” I thought, “is what happens when you combine Michael Schlow and a humble coleslaw.”

If you try nothing else at Tico, order the roasted cauliflower. The nutty florets are coated in a creamy, smoky chipotle sauce and topped with salty cheese and crunchy fried fava beans. Fried fava beans, called ‘habitas’ are a salty snack ubiquitous in Peru. Sold from street carts and served with drinks, they are addictive, and so is this dish.

You can certainly make a meal of small plates at Tico, in fact, many patrons do. But Chef Joshua’s skirt steak is really not to be missed. This beautiful entrée is perfectly cooked, expertly seasoned and exquisitely beefy – a testament to that Iowa training! The golden chicken, reminiscent of Peru’s famous rotisserie, is juicy but crisp. It is served with both a highly seasoned pan sauce and a creamy saffron aioli, which combine together to form the ideal gravy for the chicken, as well as the asparagus and potato rounds. Brown on the outside and shockingly creamy inside, these simple potatoes are another lesson in the possibilities of texture.

Having long been a devotee of the burger served in the lounge of Michael Schlow’s Radius, I couldn’t help but try the bacon cheeseburger at Tico. When I first moved to Boston, I met a friend for drinks at Radius after work. Not particularly ravenous, we ordered a burger to split. We devoured it and ordered another. I have been hooked ever since. I waited for the bacon cheeseburger to arrive, wondering nervously if it could stand up to its sister burger across town. I needn’t have been concerned. I cut the burger in half and handed a piece to my companion. He took a bite, “Wow, you want a little burger with your bacon?” he laughed through the enormous burger. The bacon really is the star here; thick, smoky slices cover the burger, adding salty intensity to the wonderfully moist beef and buttery brioche bun. The fact is, Tico’s burger is simply too different to even compare to the refined, horseradish and pepper napped version at Radius. This burger is rugged, manly, and massive!

If you make it to dessert, fun, childhood favorites await you. Tico’s play on the banana split, with its caramelized banana, dark chocolate gelato, Mexican chocolate sauce, and whipped peanut butter mousse, puts the sundaes of my childhood to shame. Cookies come with a cocktail shaker of ice-cold milk, perfect for dunking. I am a cookie-dunker, but respect the rights of other non-dunking folk. If you’re splitting your cookies with a non-dunker, you might want to ask for an extra glass! And if you’re looking for something a bit more grown up, the chocolate tart, served with tres leche ice cream and sweet caramel sauce fits the bill.

Tico (which is actually a nickname for a Costa Rican national) is neither Peruvian nor Mexican nor Spanish, nor anything else. Inspired by his travels, his staff, and his own genius, Chef Michael Schlow has created an eclectic array of flavors that appeal to a diverse crowd. This is food that can’t be defined, but why do you need to? Whatever you call Tico, just know that if you’re looking for me on a breezy evening, you might just find me on Tico’s patio, sipping sangria and munching on tacos.