Craigie Street Bistrot is the type of place that everyone calls a “gem.” It’s a bit off the beaten path (10 minutes outside Harvard Square) and is housed in a basement location that offers little in the way of atmosphere. The food, though, is what everyone goes for. Craigie specializes in authentic French bistro food created using the day’s freshest ingredients. The menu is ever-evolving and you can choose from a prix-fixe, a chef’s tasting, or take your items ala carte.
A friend made a reservation for 6 people on a Tuesday evening. We all decided to go for the prix-fixe, which included some choices within the menu meaning I could avoid any and all seafood. For the lofty price of $75, you receive an amuse bouche, appetizer, entrée, and dessert with accompanying dessert drink. I made some bold choices, at least for me, and ate pork jowl croutons, a potage with pheasant, and a trio of pork dishes. Everything was good and portions were generous, but nothing was off the charts in the flavor department. The pork jowls were delicious little crispy bites, full of salty pork goodness. The potage was a bit heavy and the pheasant was a bit rare for my taste. My entrée was good; the pork sausage being the best of the bunch. Dessert was a gingerbread pain perdu with an interesting fresh ginger ice cream. Service was adequate but nothing special.
K and I agreed that the LARGE amount of money we shelled out for dinner, our share of two bottles of mediocre wine, and tip was a bit ridiculous. The food was good, but it was just good. We won’t be back.
All of this leads to me to wonder what the local food movement is really doing for diners? Sure, I love the idea of eating locally grown vegetables and locally raised meat. I want to support Massachusetts farmers and chefs who are using their food. But I don’t want to pay through the nose to do so. After watching Bizarre Foods this week, an episode in which the host sang the praises of a local Minnesota restaurant that follows a similar philosophy to Craigie (locally grown everything, menu changing daily according to ingredients), I couldn’t help but wonder if all the hype was worth it. These restaurants seem happy to charge more, and I suppose diners are reinforcing the notion by continuing to pay the hefty bills when they arrive. Maybe I’m just bitter about the dough we shelled out for a mediocre dinner, or maybe I prefer my beef to be raised in the Midwest and my fruit to be flown in from the southern hemisphere.
