The digestible dream

Where to nosh after midnight in Boston

by Robert David Sullivan

DINING

Lately I've been on a dream diet: if I can convince myself that I only dreamed about eating that late-night cheeseburger, I can't gain any weight. The problem with this strategy is that I have to wait until most of the city is asleep to do my snacking, and Boston doesn't look too kindly on any post-midnight activity. Thankfully, there are a few places that offer sustenance to the clubgoers, late-shift workers, and insomniacs who don't care about their cholesterol levels.

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Someone has scrawled DOLLY'S IS OPEN in red spray paint across the plywood now encasing 382 Highland Avenue, in Davis Square. The message has probably startled quite a few Somerville residents who figured Dolly's (617-628-0888) to be some greasy-spoon restaurant that was abandoned years ago. An understandable assumption, since the place doesn't come to life until 11 p.m. (Tuesday through Saturday), and it doesn't really get busy until after 2 a.m., when bartenders and musicians pour in from local clubs. By 5 a.m., Dolly's goes back undercover as a diner gone bust.

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Wine help
Bar dining
Late-night eats

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Inside, the U-shaped counter, giant jukebox, and assorted black tables and chairs make Dolly's look like a set from a 1940s film noir, just waiting for Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall to make their entrances. Of course, this fantasy requires you to ignore the vibrantly colored walls, which feature random triangles covered by rainbow splatters straight out of a Jackson Pollock painting. The jukebox also likes to skip from one era to another, with selections by Patsy Cline, Rick James, and U2 filling the air one recent Saturday. If you go to Dolly's "early" and forget to bring quarters, a waitress is likely to feed the jukebox and spare everyone the thick silence that somehow hangs over the room even when people are talking.

The last time I went to Dolly's, my companions drooled over the whole milk they were served with their slices of cherry pie ($2.50 each); not even the most health-conscious person would dare utter the word low-fat here. I got the French toast ($2.75 for three pieces), which wasn't too eggy and was browned just right. But the grilled-cheese-and-bacon sandwich ($3.25) is my favorite -- they don't skimp on the bacon here.

Dolly's has a pretty standard menu, with omelets, burgers, and sandwiches generally ranging from $4 to $8. The most expensive item is a sirloin steak (with cheese and your choice of bacon, ham, or sausage on the side) for $13.55, which I was not brave enough to try at 1 a.m. My only complaint is that Dolly's doesn't have many non-caffeinated sodas, but I suspect that many of the patrons come here to re-energize before a long drive home with their music equipment, and they need all the Coke and black coffee they can stomach.

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Downtown Boston has only two 24-hour diners, sitting side by side on Kneeland Street and almost surrounded by Big Dig construction. The Blue Diner (150 Kneeland Street, 617-695-0087) looks slightly more upscale, despite one insider's observation that this is where pimps go to count their money at about 4 a.m. The front dining area has roomy booths, lots of gleaming chrome, blue and orange neon piping along the walls, and large picture windows (mostly good for watching cement trucks rattle by). Another plus at the Blue Diner is that they serve beer until 2 a.m., which means you can beat the club kids here without giving up last call.

The overnight menu changes every day, depending on which chef is on duty, but I didn't spot anything too unusual within such categories as "off the griddle" and "deep fried." My party of three ended up with an order that included everything from nachos ($6.25) to buttermilk pancakes ($4). I got a tasty Monte Cristo sandwich ($7), which consisted of cold cuts and cheese on French toast. Not realizing that French fries come with the sandwich, I also ordered some fries with cheese sauce ($3.25). When all the food arrived at once, I noticed a) how many different forms of dairy products were on the table, and b) how pointless a doggy bag would be, since this stuff did not look as if it would taste good after reheating.

Next door, where the Blue Diner used to be a few years ago, is the South Street Diner (South and Kneeland Streets, 617-350-0028), which gets a slightly grittier crowd. Lots of Big Dig workers come in for "lunch" after midnight, and the music is mostly hard-rock hits from the 1970s. The extensive menu has some of my childhood favorites, such as chocolate-chip pancakes ($4.50) and root-beer floats ($2.85), along with omelets and club sandwiches (both $4 to $6). The décor here is nothing to brag about (the paneled walls and the poster of Laurel and Hardy don't qualify as fun kitsch), and the food can be plainer than expected (one companion got an English muffin without any nooks or crannies). The staff is quite friendly, though, and I don't think it would take many visits to be considered a regular.

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The most fertile area for late-night dining is Chinatown, which has at least five restaurants open past 2 a.m. After killing some time with Rolling Rocks one Friday night, three companions and I visited Grand Chau Chow (45 Beach Street, 617-292-5166) and were jolted into sobriety by the assembly-line speed of service. Within 10 minutes of arriving, we got our first dish, shrimp with scrambled eggs ($7.95). Despite the looks of skepticism I got when I suggested it to my friends, it vanished almost as soon as it hit the table. A bit salty, but surprisingly good on an empty stomach. General Gao's chicken ($7.95) was just spicy enough and came in strips, not meteor-shaped hunks. The steamed Peking ravioli ($3.95) were standard issue.

Grand Chau Chow (which is open until 3 a.m.) has mirrored walls, the requisite fish tank, and big round tables that the waiters constantly rearrange to accommodate the latest group of customers. Lots of club kids of all types come here, but young Asians are the predominant group. I was intrigued by the group at the next table -- six young Chinese women and one young Chinese guy, all of them dressed in black -- but never got up the nerve to ask how they ended up together.

The next stop was Peach Farm (4 Tyler Street, 617-482-1116), a basement-level eatery that was nearly empty at 2 a.m. Though the place was officially open for another hour, we were warned that the kitchen was about to close, and the vacuum cleaner was turned on as soon as we got up to leave at 2:40. In between, we feasted on a heaping bowl of shockingly fresh squid with black-bean sauce, peppers, and onions ($8.50). The jumbo shrimp with walnuts ($10.95) was a little sweet for my taste, but it was certainly an improvement over rice as a snackable finger food.

Other late-night options in Chinatown include East Ocean City (25 Beach Street, 617-542-2504, open until 3:30 a.m.), Moon Villa (19 Edinboro Street, 617-423-2061, open until 3:45 a.m.), and Ocean Wealth (8 Tyler Street, 617-423-1338, open until 4 a.m.).

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The neighborhood most sorely in need of an after-hours hangout is the South End. I'm praying that someday Mike's City Diner, on rapidly gentrifying Washington Street, goes 'round the clock, but any restaurant that tries to stay open past 2 a.m. will probably be torched by angry condo owners. There are a few places that stay busy after midnight, though. Anchovies (433 Columbus Avenue, 617-266-5088) serves hearty Italian food until 2 a.m., but the wait for a table can be more than an hour, even on weeknights. The Franklin Café (278 Shawmut Avenue, 617-350-0010), which serves "contemporary American" food until 1:30 a.m., also features a hip crowd, a friendly staff, and exasperatingly long waits for a table.

My recommended solution is to go the extra block to the spacious and airy Pho République (1415 Washington Street, 617-262-0005), which stays open until 1 a.m. and is a lot less hectic than the aforementioned South End eateries. Maybe because it's only about five months old, and maybe because it's on a block that not everyone considers safe after dark, Pho République still attracts a mostly neighborhood crowd. The décor is Southeast Asian, of course, with gently swaying chandeliers (some made from clamshells) and a large gong at the center of the dining area (no, you can't strike it).

The specialty of the house is pho (pronounced "fuh"), a Vietnamese noodle soup made with your choice of meat or fish; a huge bowl costs $10 to $15. We weren't quite that hungry, so we settled for a golden jasmine-rice cake ($5.50), which was light and satisfying, and the crispy shrimp in clam sauce ($7.95), which was rather difficult to share using chopsticks. Pho République has a full bar, but you might want to try the Frangia ("French-Viet Wine Sangria"), in keeping with the tropical atmosphere. Relax and enjoy the music (French cabaret songs the last time I visited), and pretend you don't have to worry about finding a cab when it's finally time to go home.

Robert David Sullivan is a freelance writer living in Somerville. He can be reached at Robt555@aol.com.