Who would have imagined, say in 1960, that the most eagerly awaited new restaurant in Boston by 2001 would feature New England produce with a variety of Asian seasonings? With a rock soundtrack sung in foreign languages and bit of mambo? A science-fiction fan might have predicted the Abstract Expressionist sculptures, or Ray Kinoshita’s room design with metal accents. But what futurist, other than the 16-year-old George Lucas, could have foreseen the collage of futuristic elements mixed with antique Japanese themes? Who could have known that our future food cravings would include retro elements like live fire and game chops, teak accents and plum-paper lamps?
But here we are at the new Salamander, and the concept is high. Maybe too high. It seems as though chef Stan Frankenthaler is running out of ideas: main courses seem to weaken, and vegetables and garnishes repeat. Or maybe he is spread too thin. He’s given us a whole new “satay bar” concept — complete with a chef-in-the-middle arrangement, as at a Japanese steakhouse — but with no satay on the dining-room menu. And a five-course tasting menu ($82). And something special matched with a flight of wines for the chef’s table. The new Salamander has some brilliant features, and the dessert course is an all-out rally, but there are gaps in the wine list, the garnishes, the rice, and — in admittedly the most difficult month of the year for the New England seafood industry — the fish.
Like I said, maybe the concept is too high. That’s the feeling I get while nibbling on some gummy Indian bread, a heavy naan that looks like torn pita but has twice the density. The alternative is a wafer — thin as a papadum, but with a whole-wheat flavor. These are served with no butter, no olive oil, but a relish tray of curried puy lentils, salt flavored with garam masala, and a “tropical dunk” that tastes like applesauce with a hint of guava. This is all very interesting, but nothing sticks to the breads, and they aren’t too great plain. The naan, at room temperature, isn’t even good. Some concept is at play with Asianizing the French bread basket, but the deconstruction has passed the point of recognition.
The chef’s “amuse-gueule,” or complimentary appetizer, is a bit of steamed codfish with a curry sauce and some shredded noodles. Very nice, and the tasting-menu appetizer of grill-seared foie gras is better than nice. More like superfantastic. Real foie gras is a special delicacy, not to be overdecorated, but its richness pairs up well with tangy Asian glazes like this one based on Japanese plum wine. A bit of onion chutney, a couple of toasts, a double dab of Korean-style spinach — all properly played in the background of those fabulous lobes of superfatted liver.
Oxtail soup with “slippery pan-seared dumplings” ($12) was another victory — the broth deeply beefy with just a touch of anise, the dumplings providing some reference starch. Crispy-fried shell-on Maine shrimp with spicy Korean salt ($10) was all of that, but unfortunately it was so oversalted that the sweet flavor of the small local shrimp was largely lost. Pickled red chilies, used as a garnish, tasted as if they came from a jar. The jumbo shrimp atop the tasting-menu second course was good, but the underlying combination of Chinese sausage and soupy-sweet Singaporean curry canceled each other out. A serious dose of hot pepper might have helped.
The salad of mizuna greens ($12) presented a succession of parts that did not mesh. The best was “Jonathan’s Peekskill Pyramid Cheese,” melted onto one corner of a sesame wafer. The low points were the limp slices of Asian pear (of which the main virtue is crispness, I think), and the roasted shiitake mushrooms, which had been marinated in something unexpectedly sweet.
Now the fish problem. At lower price levels than Salamander’s, the problem is a lack of affordable wild fish. In February, the problem is often a lack of any wild fish. Salamander’s solutions: 1) ebony wild-salmon fillet in shishimi broth with tempura green-tea soba maki (optional third course on the tasting menu, $28 à la carte) or 2) “Salamander’s striped bass is back! Locally farmed striped bass deep-fried and served with steamed rice, choi, and green-banana curry” ($32). Comment: farmed striped bass always tastes like ashes, and so does this small whole one, although the effect is diminished by deep-frying, the crimping of the fish in a circle around the rice (real jasmine-rice aroma), and the green-banana curry. But the choi turns out to be — I guess — the same pickled red peppers I didn’t like with the Maine shrimp. Wild salmon ought to have more flavor if less fat than farmed fish, but this doesn’t have much, despite some kind of glaze. “Shishimi broth” is almost tasteless, despite the seaweed, wild mushrooms, and green soybeans floating around in it. “Tempura green-tea soba maki” is a five-car collision of culinary Japanese that describes a nifty fried-seaweed wrap of spaghetti flavored with Japanese green tea, which always tastes like spinach. I think if the shishimi broth were based on clam broth or strong fish stock, this would be pretty good.
Game chops on mashed parsnips and chestnuts ($40) are very good, although they would be better if we were told what the light-colored, pork-like chops were. Game-farm wild boar? Antelope? Well done, not much tamarind, but some green herbal chutney I liked. The venison chop is clearly labeled and served rare. With game-farm venison, rare is safe, but it also lacks much distinctive gamy flavor. Hearty greens are braised escarole in a tomato-like sauce, and whoops, there they are on the tasting menu’s fifth course of veal escalope, being three rolled-veal delights decorated with two speared Asian ravioli, stuffed with the same fine vegetable dice as the slippery pan-seared dumplings back at the oxtail soup.
Tangerine-scented duck breast ($35) is almost French, and quite good with wine. The tangerines are served as sautéed slices, and some people won’t want to eat the skins. The rice served with this is enriched by a natural sauce and some duck liver as well; it’s not subtle, but it’s good eating.
Speaking of wine, the list is endless. It’s expensive, grouped by grape, and reasonably bent toward Asian-food matches. Alsatian gewürztraminer? Five choices from $40 to $195. Riesling (another spicy white)? Nine possibilities, $34 to $88. But there’s nothing at the semisweet spätlese level that mates so well with seafood. Pinot noir or gamay? Some from California, Beaujolais, and Burgundy, but none of my Pacific Northwest favorites. We took a good chance on the 1998 vintage for a shipper’s Bourgogne rouge (Jean-Marc Millot, $55). That’s a lot of mazorkas for a plain red Burgundy, and it was light but opened up, with a hint of smoke that went well with this food.
After the main battle, we were given Japanese hot towels scented with ground star anise, a lovely treat. And dessert was pure pleasure. The tasting menu brings forth a trio of mini desserts: delicious chai crème caramel ($11 alone), even better coffee frozen soufflé with chocolate nibs ($11), and one of “Chef Tim’s chocolate pillows” ($12) stuffed with chocolate pudding — ahem, “very rich chocolate ganache” — and fried. Banana spring rolls ($10), with their “dueling dips” of fruit sauce and caramel sauce, and with banana bits arranged about the plate, really do top the original Salamander sweet banana-stuffed wontons. A similar deployment of pineapple bits with mint glorified the pineapple upside-down cake ($10).
Service is impeccable. The new Salamander doesn’t smell like smoke, but they do plunk your wine bottle down on the table. I described the old Salamander as the world’s most elegant barbecue joint. The new version is richer, sleeker, softer on the spice, and costs more; it is a lot less about earth and fire and a lot more about water and air.
Robert Nadeau can be reached at robtnadeau@aol.com.
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