On Sunday, L was gone for the entire day. I originally planned to visit Martha’s Vineyard but didn’t want to be stuck on a tour bus for hours, so instead, I opted to check out the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts. Before L left, he asked me to please be aware of my surroundings. I told him honestly that I couldn’t promise him that, but not to worry as I planned to Uber everywhere. Let’s listen to “West End Girls” by the Pet Shop Boys.
The Gardner Museum was something special. I walked through the entrance garden through rooms filled with international treasures. I didn’t feel like I was in a museum but a very wealthy woman’s house. I preferred how there were no descriptions in the Gardner Museum, as I realized reading takes away from the visual experience. I spent about two hours wandering through the halls and floors because every time there were loud children, I would run out to enjoy the serenity in the quieter rooms, then return when I was alone again.
My next stop was the Museum of Fine Arts. I found this museum too large to absorb in one afternoon. The setup confused me as you would enter a hallway and go through a series of doors, then at the end, turn to the left or right to repeat the experience. I spent most of my time admiring the Art of Ancient Greece, Rome, the Byzantine Empire, Dutch and Flemish Art, and Masterpieces of Egyptian Sculpture from the Pyramid Age.
At around 2:30 p.m., I decided to check out Neptune Oyster. The wait was only half an hour, as there’s a sweet spot after lunch and before dinner when it’s less busy. The hostess was welcoming and told me I was lucky to sit at the bar as a friendly regular, and two employees were seated to my left. To my right were two women who looked annoyed to be next to me, even though they wanted to sit at the bar.
I asked my server to recommend a white wine to pair with oysters, and she suggested the Muscat ($13). I ordered four medium-sized oysters, a Littleneck and a Cherrystone clam. I looked around to figure out what to order next, but I arrived at a lull and could only see plates of oysters and lobster rolls.
The friendly regular and the two employees were drinking glasses of rose. I could tell by watching them that the wine tasted better than mine. Their carefree smiles glowed as they gulped down the pink liquid. The server would continuously fill up their glasses from what appeared to be a bottomless bottle. For my next glass, I asked to drink what they were drinking, and it was a far superior wine ($14).
I asked the friendly regular next to me what he recommended. David paused dramatically and then went into a full-on gourmet speech, just like David Chang and Anthony Bourdain in the Netflix food documentaries. It may be an American thing, but they are much more passionate when speaking.
I asked David’s opinion on Neptune’s lobster rolls, and he said a lobster roll is a lobster roll; it’s simply lobster and bread. He and his son can make a fantastic one at home, so when he comes to Neptune’s, he’s looking for something different. I quizzed him about the fried clams, and he said the fried clams are great, but he can get excellent fried clams right in his neighbourhood. Exasperated, I explained that I was only around for a few days and couldn’t make lobster rolls at home, and there wasn’t a famous clam place where I lived. He pondered a little and offered me a sample of his soft-shell crab ($24), which I found delicate.
The oysters ($2.90-$3.50) were pristine and immaculately shucked. However, it was the clams that blew me away. The Littleneck was sweet and tender, while the Cherrystone was salty with a bouncy chew, with a texture between a squid and scallop.
I told David that the clams were far superior than I could get in Vancouver. He quoted Barack Obama’s speech on how Boston is one of America’s iconic and world’s finest cities. Americans are patriotic. I’ve never referenced our prime ministers except to mention Trudeau wears excellently tailored suits. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, that’s the sound his jacket and pants make as he walks by.
I showed David my list of to-go places, and he told me not to bother with Toro. He’s never heard of Yankee Lobster; James Hook is good, but again, not as good as he can make it (with browned butter), and Oleana in Cambridge is worth the trek. He recommended Peach Farm and has tried the king crab.
I chose the Fried Clams ($28), and oh my goodness, the chef must be the god of the sea, Neptune himself, because never have I ever eaten such perfectly cooked clams. The clams were giant, like a cluster of oysters stuck together like enoki tempura. Sublimely cooked, the center of the clam was still milky and eggy. The other parts of the clam were pleasantly chewy. The flavour of the meat was sweet and briny, with a crispy exterior protecting the fat, creamy belly meat. I would get this again.
I also tried a bite of David’s lobster burrata ($43). This dish reminded me of the creations I tried at Le Pappilion in Montreal. The herby fragrance from the basil popped against the subtle flavour of the burrata and sweet lobster meat. The portion was large enough for two. I would get this again as well.
When I told the two employees beside David I was returning the next day, they suggested the crudo and Johnny Cakes. I pondered out loud if I should return to Neptune for every meal in my remaining time. David shook his head and strongly recommended going to Oleana and sitting on the patio. It turns out he was right. What an introduction to the high quality shellfish in Boston. Unbelievable! And to be continued.
Hitting the Sauce 