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Hungry Mother
Open wide for an uncanny spunk du Sud
By CHRISTINE LIU
del.ico.us
reddit!
Although it was not entirely obvious the point at which I fell in love with this little restaurant, I think a choice moment was when I got home after my meal and a burp tasted reassuringly like bacon. Perhaps not the most poignant reminder of what was a delicious repast of France-meets-the-deep-South comfort, but certainly in line with the evening's sentiment: honest and deeply satisfying eating.
The graces of this six-week old restaurant sharing the name of a Virginian state park—its eclectically welcoming graphic identity marked with letterpress filigree, tiny stars and a fearless red cardinal—owe everything to the collective experience of its four owners: John Kessen (L'Espalier, Sel de la Terre), Chef Barry Maiden (Lumière), Rachel Miller Munzer and Alon Munzer (founders of Rachel's Kitchen). It's very clear they all know what they're doing, and the result is a fine place feeding an underserved residential area—not to mention Boston as a whole—with first-rate food and drink minus stratospheric prices.
The entrance is a cozy one, with a seven-seat wooden bar, two tables for grazing and the bustling kitchen in view. A painted wall lists names of those who contributed money to facilitate the restaurant's opening, a charming neighborly way to say thanks. There's plenty of fine bottles of wine under $30 and many available by the glass, plus brews for every occasion—a half-pint of Ruination IPA on draft ($3), New Grist gluten-free lager ($5), a 40-ouncer of the "Champagne of Beers" ($8). A fearsome assemblage, the cocktails are labeled by number (a bit sterile, but efficient). Trust that the no. 10 ($9), a Mason jarful of Ezra Brooks bourbon, sweet tea and Luxardo limoncello, delivers a swift, hair-sprouting, drawl-tinged kick to the system.
Before long you'll be escorted back into the main dining room, a warm humble space with pale walls, cut-crystal (are those upside-down tumblers?) sconces and paned windows overlooking the quiet street. "This is like being in my kitchen," remarks one of my companions, settling deeper into his seat. Service is relaxed and friendly, with generously crumbed slabs of bread from Framingham's B&R artisan bakery distributed from an arm-slung basket. Pages from Mastering the Art of French Cooking and The Virginia Housewife plaster the walls of the unisex bathrooms, teaching most intimately the finer points of lobster bisque or "how to make yellow pickle."
Despite the modestly sized menu, choosing remains a delightfully agonizing task, but even blind picking can certainly do you no wrong. The warm beef tongue canapé ($3) is the stuff intensely carnivorous dreams are made of, a plump unctuous bite sized to share (you won't, though), cut with savory Gruyère and Dijon. Boiled Virginia peanuts sprinkled with gray sea salt ($3) are a subtly addictive snack ("like Southern edamame," suggests our waitress) and a trio of Chip-In Farm deviled eggs ($4) boasting tiny bacon masts instantly brings me back to summer potlucks growing up in Maryland. Five fried oysters ($13), cornmeal-dusted nuggets bursting with fat briny creatures from the Virginia Chesapeake ("like fresh-oyster balloons," our table concurs), rest upon lightly dressed Tabasco-laced greens. As if completing the pleasure triangulation between mac & cheese and gumbo, shrimp & grits ($9) is a luscious bowlful of saucy, fleshy, creamy pleasure.
The bourbon-braised pork shoulder ($19), impressively smoked in-house, is rightfully the most popular entrée. The achingly tender chunks melt on the tongue, porky juices mingling in a bed of grits, with one perfect rib to complete the spectacle. Weightless French-style gnocchi ($17) is like spring incarnate, mixed with mushrooms, spring peas and Parmigiano. Impeccable roasted chicken ($18) may claim the best sides of velvety jalapeño-green garlic spoonbread and pleasantly bitter young beet greens, closely besting the unabashedly savory and crisped fingerlings alongside the flavorful Painted Hills flatiron steak ($25).
As hard as one could try, I really couldn't find anything amiss at this place. Food good enough to stop conversation and sincere, gracious service—even kindly making up for a sold-out rhubarb sorbet dessert ($6) with a rewarding off-the-menu beer float layered with Ellie's Brown Ale and sorghum ice cream. It's no surprise I recognized both local denizens and industry professionals alike on my visits. A feast at Hungry Mother is one that everyone deserves to partake in.
Rating: * * * * *
* * * * * lifetime membership to the Virginia ham club
* * * * ritualistic whole-pig roast
* * * nudge of extra cheese in the grits
* * tepid fried chicken
* porkless collard greens
HUNGRY MOTHER
233 CARDINAL MEDEIROS AVE., KENDALL SQ., CAMBRIDGE
617.499.0090
DINNER: TUE-SUN 5PM-10PM (BAR UNTIL 1AM)
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