Boston

grill23barBack in 1983, Grill 23 opened with what was, for then, a great deal of fanfare. I don't remember being there in the '80s; to be clear, not my eighties. I mention to my sister-in-law Ellen that I'm writing about it and she recalls working at Harvest, St. Botolph and on to Grill 23. This is what she says: "It was busy from day one. The service was impeccable. We were all so very well trained. It was the first of its kind in Boston: the end."

We like the bar on the second floor. It's friendly and when you come by yourself, chat up the bartenders or watch TV. In a way I can't define, this bar encourages the telling of secrets. I've heard more secrets here than anywhere else and it's unsettling since bar chairs call for balance. At a table you might order a bottle of wine but at the bar we never do because we might, among other things, fall off our chairs. So far, so good.

We're splitters but not tonight. I have my own burrata which they describe as crispy eggplant with stewed tomatoes. The bartender calls it "our version of eggplant Parmesan." Which you could say it is except that it has mozzarella and no Parmesan. It's crisp and topped with fresh tomatoes which make all the difference. We also have fried calamari with pepperoncini cream which is big for a starter but perfect if you need something to go with your sidecar.

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bg 3B & G Oysters is one of those places that took off on Day One or at least that's how I remember it. We've had lunch there for years, not years and years, but enough to know that every oyster's hand-picked and polished. You watch chefs pry and fry your oysters, baste salmon, jimmy clams, beer-batter fish, pan-fry fluke, hack your hake and steam mussels. It's like being in someone else's kitchen where you're close enough to inhale but far enough away not to get involved with dishes.

Summers we're partial to oysters, choosing one of each from everywhere. Winters we're into soup and entrées. Like other places with "oyster" in the name, it's fine to pass on raw; that's what the open kitchen's for. This brunch every seat is taken. After a short wait we decide it's not too early for a sparkler. Simonnet-Febvre Cremant de Bourgogne Brut, a chardonnay pinot noir blend, pairs with the spice bomb clam chowder and I get all the floating lardons. Our server, Mark, explains the chowder's not roux-based so clams lead. My Saturday's improving by the minute with chefs who know their way around a cast iron skillet.

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Blue dragon 7When Ming Tsai opens a new place it's news and Blue Dragon is news. Esquire lists Blue Dragon in its annual survey of best new restaurants. Yes, he's in the right place with the ongoing Boston Harbor redo, or vice versa, without being on Northern Avenue's tourist mecca. 'A' Street's off Summer and to find it we use GPS and one of us, ahem, was born here. There's street parking on industrial blocks polished with big windows, loading docks and ceiling beams that tell of old brick warehouses and lofts even as renovators rewrite Fort Point Channel.

Blue Dragon: They do things uncommonly well; for one, there's a mid-afternoon menu along with lunch and dinner. And there's a lunch-to-go menu which means they only pack things that travel well like salad and bánh mì. Sidewalks are narrow for tables so they open windows and it's summer-friendly with street life from our window seats. They call themselves a gastropub. I would never say that; it sounds like something to see the doctor about, but I will go along with: "Ming's East West twist to many pub favorites."

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rendezvousIt's six o'clock. Traffic is intense for no Red Sox game and the Grateful Dead boys several weeks gone. Every street is on hold as we split to Central Square's Mass Avenue and voilà: it's Rendezvous. We opt for the bar as we're greeted and seated in no time. This is some room: it's all skylights with yellow brickwork and the ceiling's a warm orange. Why is it looking familiar? Oh, now I remember. When they opened eight years ago, they took over a space that used to be . . . a Burger King. Pretty gutsy, Steve Johnson, creating fine dining where there was once less fine dining, with all due respect.

Here's a bar basket with lemons, limes and oranges that are missing peel. When he's making your cocktail, the bartender carves a fresh piece, just for you. Watching him assemble mojitos and martinis is affecting - he never stops shaking and measuring. As we watch, he puts together a Mamie Taylor, a tall drink with Scotch, ginger beer and lime. It's too hot to think about wine, let alone Scotch. What's wrong with us, I think, is too much yard time earlier. Cocktails galore yet I see him pour no beer or wine though he must have.

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SteelRyeInteriorIt's Thursday, it's late and we parked blocks away because the lot is full at Steel & Rye. We're good though; one of us thought to make a reservation so we're seated right away. The room, formerly a warehouse with 20-foot ceilings and huge windows in 7,000 square feet, is noisy and fun. This is a light supper night in an eclectic American setting and we're casual, having come from dance classes, but it doesn't matter at all.

Hungry as hippos after a big tap-out, now we have our menu and we're breaking out the flashlights. It's weird because you can't call it dark exactly and you better not call us old. I should have taken the menu because what's online is a "sampling of our offerings" since the selections change nightly.

We start with Domaine Pichot Vouvray. It's light and raisin-y with a tart apple finish. Good choice because now we're digging into cream-based squash soup with pomegranate. I'm finding ginger, maybe pumpkin, and apples. No clue what's making it so light and fluffy. (You'll see mushroom soup with duck and eggs for $11). We use brown bread to mop up; it's what they call in New England anadama bread which usually means wheat flour, cornmeal and molasses. Anadama bread turned up in Rockport, MA in the mid-1800s. Smooshed along the steel plate, the butter's filled with salt crystals and from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Steel & Rye for no olive oil, no honeyed spread and no hummus - it's just butter.

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