The Ravioli Shop

Okay, okay.. The Ravioli Shop on Winton is NOT a restaurant. However, it serves up fresh pasta that takes about 8 minutes to cook so, it's kind of like a restaurant.. only you cook it.

No matter the case, my wife and I were given a $20 gift certificate to The Ravioli Shop and tonight we had the chance to use it.

The store is bare-bones. It consists of a counter, a few refrigerators filled with the ravioli, sauces and ice cream and a few dry racks of various pasta related sauces and oils. So long as the product was good, I don't give a hoot what the shop looks like inside. Did you ever visit the old Leo's Bakery on Atlantic? Man, that place was a dump but the pies where fantastic!

Given the $20 gift certificate burning a hole in my pocket, I went straight to the top: the lobster ravioli. 30 ravioli per box. $20 per box. I picked up the marinara sauce and headed to the counter. Upon glancing at my choices, the cashier insisted I put the marinara back and go with their "famous" vodka sauce. Needless to say, that's just what I did. I love getting suggestions from people who serve/make food for a living and when someone cares enough to genuinely make a recommendation, I'm going to follow it.

So I grabbed the vodka sauce and proceeded to pay $2.30 cash for my soon-to-be meal. I rushed home and demanded to be involved in each step of the ravioli making process. These had to be done just as the cashier had said: "Drop 'em in boiling water, start the timer and remove after 8 minutes." Difficult, I know, but that's just what I did. You just don't, pardon my language, fuck with lobster. If the guy that inserts the lobster in the pasta says 8 minutes, don't leave it in there a goddamn minute more.

After 8 minutes of pensive waiting and occasional stirring, I gleefully poured the ravioli into the strainer and basked in the smell of cooked lobster steam. You know that smell. Almost sweet and buttery. These raviolis had it and I couldn't wait to dig in.

My wife spooned the vodka sauce over the ravioli and removed the garlic bread from the oven. The moment had arrived. $20 worth of lobster ravioli about to go down. First bite..

The sauce hit's my palette and I immediately deem it delicious. I sink my teeth into the luscious ravioli and hit lobster. Huh? I drop the next bite in. This is surprisingly dry for just coming out of a pot of water. I hate to say it, but I was disappointed. My expectations weren't met.

The lobster filling was very dry and not, well, lobstery. The sauce made the dish. Sure, I downed my entire plate. And, truthfully, it wasn't all that bad. Was it worth $20? Not in my mind. The flavor just didn't remind me of lobster.

But Jesse, you're shouting, there were certainly other ingredients in the ravioli that altered the taste of the lobster. I agree. But they didn't enhance the flavor or even allow it exist. In fact, those additives barely registered. Maybe my expectations were too high but when you pay $20 for a box of 30 ravioli, you should have high hopes. That's serious dough these days!

As I said earlier, I finished my meal and I enjoyed it. Was it ungodly delicious? No. The sauce was, indeed, very good and I would make a special stop for it. Would I go back for the ravioli? Sure! But I think I would go for a less ambitious selection.

Tap & Mallet

When my wife and I moved to the South Wedge, we noticed Tap & Mallet in the spot where MacGregor's used to be. We lamented the fact that MacGregor's was gone.

Today, over a year and several visits to Tap & Mallet later, MacGregor's is a distant, laughable memory. Tap & Mallet is what MacGregor's had always failed to completely deliver.

I've been holding off on writing a review of Tap & Mallet because I didn't want it to end up sounding like my last review of Flavors of Asia: a short, gushing, blabbering review that isn't all that insightful.

However, I can't approach Tap & Mallet objectively anymore. The place is simply outstanding and a treasure to this area. Still, I'll do my best to spell out why this place is important.

First off, you should know that Tap & Mallet is, first and foremost, a beer bar. But don't you dare go in an order a Labatt's. They stock a rotating variety of kegs from around the globe and a large sampling of the bottles you find in the specialty beer section of Wegman's. The beer list is about 6 pages large. If you look hard enough, you'll find your Sam Adams. But, compared to the rest of their offerings, Sam Adams comes off as the swill of the bunch.

But, you didn't just come here to drink. No, you probably came here to eat, as well.

Seating is, and seemingly always will be, the strangest aspect of this restaurant. You walk in and see wait staff mulling about, serving, talking and laughing. There is no sign telling you to wait for a hostess because there is none. No one is waiting to seat you or greet you. What typically happens when we go in is that we simply make some sort of contact with a member of the wait staff and have them tell us to sit where ever we want. This typically ensures someone knows we're there and are ready to eat and drink. I don't doubt, however, that we could probably just go in and sit down and someone would notice that we were new and needed menus.

Once seated and greeted, the server will bring out the food menu and the drink menu. Don't even think about opening the food menu until you've selected your beer. You have to have priorities. As I mentioned above, you'll need time to wade through the pages of choices.

Next, select your appetizer. You don't have a mountain of choices, but quantity is made up for by variety. Last time I went, we ordered the liverwurst plate. It's a plate of bread, pickled onions, liverwurst and what is simply the best, heartiest, spicy mustard I've had the pleasure of ingesting. The minutes the 'wurst took off my life are ones the 'wurst can keep. The trade off was worth it. The only quibble here is that the liverwurst to bread ratio is high. Just a few more pieces of bread and it would be perfect (for me at least, because I don't tend to mound the liverwurst on the bread).

Finally, select your main course. Again, the menu isn't a large, by any means, but the variety of dishes on the few pages given are plenty to keep you interested (Banh Mi? Here?). I ordered the fish sandwich last time I went (however, I think I'm nearing the point where I've tried all the dishes on the menu). What can I say, the English know their fish fry. It's delicious. The extra crispy batter hides the flaky fish within and the tartar sauce and lemon add the twist to ensure you don't set the sandwich down until it's gone. The hit-or-miss frites, however, won't make you forget about your sandwich. They are either crisp and perfect or soggy and undercooked. When they're good, they're great with the vinegar. When they're bad, you go back to focusing on what beer you want next. Still, the main course is always good, masterfully prepared and so far beyond the quality of typical pub grub that it stands on its own, no beer required.

This place may not be your choice when your family is in town or when you want to celebrate your Grandma's birthday but it's the place for you. It's unpretentious and comforting. It's the proper definition of a neighborhood bar and grill.