Peach Farm

A Chinatown seafood restaurant ripe for the picking

Dining Out by Robert Nadeau

DINING OUT

Peach Farm (617) 482-3332 4 Tyler Street (Chinatown), Boston Open daily, 11 a.m.-3 a.m. MC, Visa Beer and wine No valet parking Access down one flight of stairs from street level

I thought I knew Chinatown well, but I had missed Peach Farm, one of the later openings in the mid-'90s wave of Hong Kong seafood restaurants. Its menu and live-tank seafood selection are not unlike those at Jumbo Seafood, East Ocean City, or Chau Chow City. But Peach Farm has a clear identity, and a culinary theme: food gets to the table fast. The importance of this cannot be overstated. Quite a lot of Cantonese cooking is at its peak right out of the wok, and begins to lose flavor and texture within minutes. Peach Farm may not have the most elaborate sauces in Chinatown, but the premium on team speed more than makes up for the difference, and keeps this basement restaurant jammed with Asians and other knowledgeable customers.

Although the fans were there for the seafood, one of the most amazing things I tasted at Peach Farm was a modest "braised chicken w/bone" hot pot ($7.95). Actually, I had it without bone, as the waiter offered me a confusing choice and took my answer as bone." Even without bone, this was the chicken of the year: its rich flavor radiated out from each scallop of breast meat, enveloping even the garlicky sauce and the slices of bamboo shoots added to the sand pot for texture. I have to suspect that the live-fish tank has a poultry-based cousin out back.

In the realm of live seafood, the one to have right now is the "steamed black fish" ("seasonal," which actually means based on weight; ours for four people was $26.95). This is the New England blackfish, or tautog, an exquisite fish that at Peach Farm is served in a simple, steaming Cantonese sauce of shredded ginger and scallion. It is both meatier and a little bonier than the more familiar sea bass, but easy enough to spoon off the bones. According to the serving etiquette, your fish is netted, shown to you in a plastic bucket, and then rushed back to the kitchen. (By the way, the sick-looking fish in the live tank are healthy tautog -- they naturally swim diagonally or even on their sides, although they are symmetrical, unlike true flatfish.)

The speed system also works well with Hong Kong fried foods. A current on-the-wall special of spicy stuffed eggplant with black-bean sauce ($11.95) was slightly stuffed with a wisp of pork-shrimp paste, and had some garlicky black-bean sauce on the platter. But the focus was on the melting, buttery flavor of freshly fried eggplant, and that was matchless. Spicy dry-fried salted squid ($8.50) was another dish that wouldn't have been nearly as good after 10 minutes, but when it came out -- large pieces of biggish squid, batter-fried with some salt, drizzled with red-pepper flakes in oil -- it was almost matchless too. (A word of warning: if you find a ring of fresh green chili, check your hot-stuff license before eating.)

One match turned out to be "spicy salted shrimp with head" ($10.95), because the shrimp were even sweeter and fresher-tasting than the squid. The shrimp skins were thin enough to eat, and the frying was so good you could eat the heads. (We asked: the waiter said he eats the heads. I ate the heads. They were good, if not so good as the tails.) Jumbo shrimp with walnuts ($10.95) -- Boston Phoenix reviews are thorough; we do not under-research the news here -- were also immaculately fried. The shrimp were big enough to merit the adjective, and the fried walnuts were sweetened and delicious. The mayonnaise that has somehow become attached to this dish was here served on the side.

Stir-fried pea-pod stems ($11.95) also benefited from kitchen speed and high server morale. If you haven't had these yet, they are a buttery-rich green vegetable, sort of like broccoli without the bitterness, and well worth the premium over other vegetables. Ours were slightly oily, but you won't notice if you eat them quickly, and if you taste them right away, well, you'll eat them quickly.

Although there's a list of appetizers on the long menu, I don't think the restaurant's really committed to them, and therefore I would recommend ordering soup or splitting a quick platter of fried squid or clams in black-bean sauce. The "special scallop" soup (on the regular menu it was $8.95, $11.95, $18.95 -- the small serves four amply) is a tea-like essay on the contrasting flavors of dried scallop shreds and bamboo shoots. The Peking ravioli ($5.50) are the Chinatown kind -- inauthentically thick-skinned. The tea is earthy pu-erh; white rice ($1) is not special, but you get a lot.

Lines form at Peach Farm, but move quickly. There is a high proportion of large tables in the two rooms, and both extended families and office parties use them. One Friday night a party of about 20 had a birthday cake for about 40. They played a recorded Chinese version of "Happy Birthday to You" and ended up handing out cake to most of the room. Service is quite good. The emphasis on speed gives the whole room a high spirit, and one never feels rushed or neglected. The food is at its best, and people are happy.

Robert Nadeau can be reached at RobtNadeau@aol.com.

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