Erbaluce: Boston's Most Innovative Italian Restaurant?

I’ve always wanted to explore Bay Village—Boston’s smallest neighborhood, wedged between Chinatown, Back Bay, and the South End—but I’ve never managed to walk through it, despite its central location. In fact, it can seem isolated from the rest of the city, even though it is mere steps from some of the city’s most popular attractions. So when my dad told me he would be visiting for just one night, I decided we should head over to Erbaluce, a relatively new, Northern-Italian restaurant.

Chef Draghi hails from Piemonte, which actually rather surprises me, as the area is known for its exceptionally rich cuisine. The best dishes at Erbaluce, on the other hand, tend to be on the lighter side, full of fresh herbs, fruits, and vegetables.

We started with focaccia, served with white bean puree and some exceptional olive oil. It was addictive and I ate far too much of it, but the appetizers were slow in coming and I needed something to soak up the wine I was drinking. Speaking of the wine, the list was on the intimidating side. I consider myself fairly knowledgeable when it comes to Italian wines, but through a combination of the overwrought font, dim lighting, and a questionable decision to leave the grape varietals off most of the list, I was lost. Thankfully, the staff was obliging and helped me select a reasonable, earthy Morello di Scansano. I was sorely tempted by a Cannonau di Sardegna, as I don’t often see it, but I wasn’t sure if my dad and my friend Katie were in the mood for such a funky wine.

Spaghi with bottarga

And now we arrive at the part of the meal which I regret most. I decided to be adventurous. Sometimes this works out for the best, like the time I tried bone marrow for the first time. After overcoming my initial fear which rose up when I was first confronted with a giant hunk of bone, it turned out to be a revelatory experience. Therefore, when I saw bottarga, a Sardinian dried mullet roe, on the menu, I thought I would be brave and give it a try. I’ve wanted to sample it ever since I saw Anthony Bourdain’s Sardinia episode, wherein he frequently proclaimed its merits. Yet when I was presented with a beautifully-prepared plate of Spaghi dressed with fresh parsley, lobster essence (I think?), and grated bottarga, I was overwhelmed by its odor. It tasted intensely of the ocean. More so than ocean water itself. Clearly, I am not ready for bottarga.

My dad ordered the most successful first course: speck with apples and a few other things. One can never go wrong with cured pork products. Katie ordered celery root soup with smoked mushrooms. I thought the smoke a bit overwhelming; I adore a good, simple celery root soup, and thought this an indelicate treatment.

Braised veal breast

Our second courses were much more successful. I settled on braised veal breast with a complex, light sauce, the ingredients of which I cannot recall. I remember fresh marjoram, a lot of fresh lemon zest, and perfectly-cooked veal. It was perched atop a pile of slightly undercooked large beans and what seemed like cabbage. I love braises, and am accustomed to them incorporating very deep flavors. Though this was very flavorful, it was not as rich as a traditional braise in a way that I really appreciated.

A very blurry plate of roasted potato gnocchi.

My dad ordered a beautiful plate of roasted potato gnocchi with duck egg, butter, and herbs. (Oh how I wish the menu were posted online; it changes daily, however). The gnocchi were impossibly light, and had a pronounced potato flavor. Katie had braised beef with fruit mostarda, which was a bit on the sweet side for me, though the sweet sauce contrasted appropriately against the rich meat.

Braised beef with fruit mostarda.

I had hoped to share a desert with Katie, but I had eaten far too much food. I managed to have a bite of her spice poached pear with a lavender caramel sauce and mascarpone, however, and was very impressed. Poached pears are offered far too rarely on dessert menus; they are such an appropriate way to end the meal. Not that we were completely finished –chef Draghi personally presented us with a plate of homemade chocolates; one was a dark chocolate with balsamico, while the other may not have incorporated chocolate at all, in fact. It was a small sticky ball with sesame and marzipan, among other things I cannot recall, though it was a creative flavor combination.

And so, three hours later, we walked out of the small dining room, through the intimate bar in front, and back out into the city, mere yards from the monstrous Smith and Wollensky. If only I had not dared to try bottarga, the evening would have been an unqualified success. I can be very hard on Italian food, because I often feel that I have tried it all before. At Erbaluce, however, I was not bored. I was excited to try new things and new flavor combinations, and I’m glad that I had the chance .