Features

By Kyle Wright
Photographs by Emily Knudsen

We tend to overlook the dishes that define our gastronomic heritage, sidelining Olde New England for the latest trend. And with good reason—left to the touristy spots that created them, dishes like Boston cream pie and clam chowder are yesterday’s chews. So we challenged six ministers of taste to reinvent the standards and remind us why these dishes have endured the test of time.

Clam Chowder
Diana Kudajarova and Tse Wei Lim, chefs/owners of Journeyman

Whether they’re waiting for a table at the Union Oyster House or slurping Legal Sea Foods’ president-approved stew, tourists love clam chowder. It’s also one of the few Boston classics to which natives are equally addicted. At Journeyman, chefs Diana Kudajarova and Tse Wei Lim revisit this old-school soup with their trademark elegance. Bacon consommé amps up the porkiness, and the addition of oysters gives a meatier bite. “Cream usually beats up the brine,” Kudajarova says. “The oysters bring that back.” Baked crumbles made from instant mashed potatoes replace your plastic bag of oyster crackers.

Boston Cream Pie
Nelson Paz, executive pastry chef at Mandarin Oriental, Boston

If Nelson Paz wasn’t a pastry chef, he’d be an architect. Whether he’s creating a tower of strawberry shortcake at Asana or a perfect square of lemon pavlova on Top Chef Just Desserts, his building-block style allows you to taste each flavor individually before smashing them all together. For his spin on Boston cream pie, Paz kept the profiles classic but reimagined the execution. “If it wasn’t chocolate, pastry cream and white cake, it’d be a different dessert,” he says. His micro–sponge cake takes a nutty sweetness from almond flour, while smooth vanilla-custard cream is formed into a cylinder and sprayed with chocolate. “The flavors are familiar and easy to replicate. That’s why it’s been popular for so long.”

New England Lobster Bake
Chris Gould, chef at Uni

You don’t need a plastic bib to enjoy Chris Gould’s modern Japanese spin on this summer staple. “I don’t limit myself to strict ingredients,” Gould says. “Taking the flavors of classical dishes and reinventing them is what I do here every day.” His Maine lobster sashimi is dressed in a light and tangy soy-yuzu sauce and is plated up alongside smoked clam and corn salad. Dots of spicy lobster-coral emulsion add heat, but it’s the potatoes that lend intrigue. Crisped chunks contrast with the lobster’s tender bite and a puréed spud even finds its way into the salad dressing. The tastes evoke a warm August afternoon—a last wisp of summer on the autumn menu.

Fenway Frank
Sean Callahan, chef at Ten Tables Jamaica Plain

Since hot dogs and baseball go hand in glove, the Fenway Frank is an iconic Boston delicacy that’s more about the ambience than the gustatory experience. Fenway Park uses Kayem dogs, but store-bought links won’t suffice for Ten Tables’ Sean Callahan. The restaurant regularly features hearty house-made sausages, but Callahan didn’t want to wander too far from his inspiration. “If I’m going to Fenway, I’m definitely eating a hot dog and having a beer,” he says. His invention has notes of coriander, garlic and paprika, with added texture from mixing hanger steak and pork. Served on a griddled bun with plenty of house-made sweet relish and a dollop of spicy Dijon, it’s a palpable hit.

Boston Baked Beans
Colin Lynch, executive chef at Menton and Barbara Lynch Gruppo

Baked beans are possibly the least glamorous food ever created, but in the hands of Menton’s Colin Lynch, there’s no hint of the soupy, canned fodder. He swaps the mushy brown specks for heartier black-eyed peas, adding substantial bite. Cider vinegar perks up the mix and house-made heirloom tomato jam provides a less cloying sweetness than does molasses. Playing on the pork ’n’ beans theme, chunks of crisped bacon give the dish its salt and a slice of panko-fried headcheese serves as a finishing crown. “There’s definitely a Southern influence,” Lynch says, “but none of these flavors are too new or surprising. It’s just working it a little bit into something else.”

Ward 8
Brother Cleve, bartender at Think Tank Bistrotheque

Many cocktail historians say the Ward 8 was invented in the late 1800s, but Brother Cleve concurs with cocktail historian David Wondrich’s guess that it’s a more recent creation. “People really weren’t using grenadine in cocktails until around 1910,” the bartending legend says at Think Tank, his Monday and Tuesday post. Grenadine plays an important role in both Locke-Ober’s original spin on the whiskey sour and in Cleve’s new rendition—but he skips the bottled plonk. Cleve makes his own syrup with raw sugar, orange flower water and Pom Wonderful. And thanks to Grand Marnier and lemon bitters, his version replaces kiddie–fruit-juice flavors with more sophisticated
notes. Cleve calls it the Ward 1840, after the Pierre Ferrand cognac he’s swapped in for rye. The result is less sweet than its predecessor, making it softer, balanced and refined.

To view these reivented recipes, continue to page two.