Teen horror movies are one of the strangest genres of film (I know this is supposed to be a restaurant review, but bear with me). As an outsider looking in, we know that 90 percent of the decisions made by the main character are stupid and usually harmful to their health. My trip to Mac’s Grill started off in much the same way as those horror flicks, with long dark roads, complete with fog. Now, in retrospect, I’m not sure I would have made many of the same decisions.
Upon entering Mac’s Grill, one is immediately greeted by a giant buffalo head stuffed and mounted on the wall and the buzz of waitresses and waiters carrying trays of fried food. My party sat in the waiting area, eagerly awaiting our fate. After a short while, our table was ready.
We ordered coconut shrimp and the southwestern artichoke dip to start. The shrimp was coated with a crunchy coconut batter and fried to a golden brown. Although a little greasy, the shrimp were tender and the sauce was amazing. The artichoke dip was an entirely different story.
The menu describes the dish as a “cheesy mix of avocado, artichoke hearts and baby spinach.” “Cheesy mix” was an understatement. I tasted of nothing but cheese, and as for the warm corn chips that accompanied the mix, there were only about 10. The missing chip crisis highlights my main problem with the appetizers at Mac’s Grill: the portions were extremely small and the prices far too high. Together, the two appetizers cost $18. In fact, the four shrimp that made up the coconut shrimp platter were more expensive than my main course. My advice is to skip the appetizers at Mac’s Grill. Not only will you save money, but you will be able to dig into the entrees sooner.
The burgers are the highlight of Mac’s menu. The Whisky Wrangler Burger managed to wrangle my taste buds into submission. The barbeque sauce supposedly contained whiskey, although I couldn’t taste any. The “crispy” onions added texture, which was a nice contrast to the hamburger beef. The Blue Bison Burger offered its own blend of flavors which I enjoyed, much to my surprise, as I was suspicious of combining buffalo meat and blue cheese. After my first bite, I threw this assumption out the window. For more standard fare, order the All-American burger. This is basically a bacon cheeseburger and is perfectly acceptable, although I had hoped for a little more bacon and a little less cheese.
If you’re not in the mood for a burger, options abound. One of the picky eaters in our dining party opted for chicken fingers. I know what you’re thinking: “Why he is reviewing chicken fingers?” Well, I’m not. I was entirely focused on the delicious honey mustard sauce in which I was drowning them. The sauce was sweet but offered just enough of a mustard flavor to keep you out of a dessert state of mind. This is more than I can say for the brown sugar sauce that accompanied the sweet potato fries. If you feel the desire to cut into a huge slab of meat, Mac’s has you covered. The 12-ounce rib-eye steak was very nicely seared. There was
just enough fat on the cut to ensure good flavor, but not so much that you had to work for your steak. The rib-eye was seasoned with a “tumbleweed rub.” I have no idea what this is, but it tasted like salt, so I guess if you’re ever in the dessert and need salt, find some tumbleweed.
Mac’s Grill was good for what it was. The burgers were great, the appetizers were expensive and the service was enthusiastic. As for the whole teen horror flick comparison, now you have watched (or rather read) my little movie. So, be wary of over-priced coconut shrimp of death and stuffed buffalos lurking around every corner.
1052 Minot Avenue,
Auburn, ME 04210
3 out of 5
you mash the potatoes. If you have a ricer this won’t be much of an issue, if not, clearing the lumps will require some diligence with a fork or potato masher. Ive also discovered that when making gnocchi, I always end up with more dough than I expect. So when you start to boil you potatoes, keep portion in mind.
the amount will differ greatly depending on the moisture content of your potatoes, how well you drained them, etc. Add just enough so that the potato pulls away from the side of the bowl and forms its own ball. You want to be able to work the ball, but make sure not to dry it out by adding to much bench flour.
I then placed them in a low oven until the cheese had melted. This step is a nice touch, but by no means a necessity.


different taste. I decided to avoid a strong balsamic-vinegary taste in this case).

olive oil.
bles such that they release their flavors and soften without browning. Done over low heat.) At this point, season with any hot spices you want to introduce. Traditionally, a dash of red pepper flakes is used. Regardless of what hot spice you use, introducing it in this step means the heat will disperse through the oil, which ensures an even incorporation into the sauce. Usually, I will also use a little salt and pepper, however, because this recipe uses prosciutto, we need to be careful with the salt level. Black pepper is fine; freshly-ground is preferable.


citly searching for Marco, you’d never notice it. The restaurant is hidden on the second floor of a building on Hanover Street, above Cafe Paradiso (which is worth a visit itself if you’re in the mood for coffee or cocktails). The dining area is small, dimly lit, and something straight out of a Tuscan villa. There are around 10 to 15 tables, and a small open reception area adjacent to the dining room. We were early for our reservation, but the hostess had our
table ready upon arrival, an intimate setting for two with a perfect view of bustling Hanover Street. I was amazed with the interior decor of the restaurant; Marco is one of the few North End restuarants that made me feel as though I was back in Siena or Florence. And as amazing as the interior was, the food was even better.
We started off the meal with the fried zucchini flowers. The lightly golden, delicate flowers stuffed with sweet ricotta cheese beckoned the taste buds. The result was not disappointing; the flaky, salty outside gave way to creamy, sweet ricotta filling inside. The lingering hints of crispy batter inside the creamy cheese made for an absolutely delightful combination.
ooked perfectly, the tender inside juicy and succulent. Perfectly complementing the crunchy cutlets was thinly sliced, salty prosciutto. The veal was layered with cheese and sautéed porcini mushrooms –a nice, albeit, unconventional addition. It added depth and complexity, making a familiar dish more exciting and absolutely delicious.
and the sauce, the vegetables present between the bites of meat were basically a classic mireproix (carrots, onion, celery). I have read and participated in many debates concerning the proper vegetable makeup of a Bolognese, and the jury is still out. I guess it is ultimately up to the chef, and this one definitely pulled it off. Other than lacking a bit in salt, the dish was perfect. The additional option of choosing a full or half portion made it the perfect, and perhaps cheaper alternative to a full meal.
were larger. The shells were perfectly cooked and possessed a slight cinnamon flavor. The ricotta inside was sweet, and hearkened my memory back to my zucchini appetizer. The portion was ideal for a dessert: not so much that you feel guilty eating it, and not so little as to leave you wanting more.
The same was true of the tiramisu, though it lacked a strong coffee flavor, something that appears to be the norm with the American variety. This deficiency, however, was more than made up for by the flaky, moist ladyfingers and creamy marscarpone.
reservation, the hostess was kind enough to seat us at the bar until a table was open. Despite the crowds, we were seated in five minutes.
Many restaurants allow them to get to this point because frankly, not many people know what they are supposed to taste like. I myself was equally guilty until I went to France and was introduced to the true wonder of escargot by a local with whom I became friendly. While I did not exactly understand his mother’s instructions for escargot, I understood the taste. I haven’t tasted anything like that in a long time. The other weekend was a blast from the past, and from a snail, go figure.
You can’t have steak frites without the frites. Every bite of potato brought crispy, fluffy goodness. The fries were on the crisp side, the way I like them, and the way French fries should be. French fries are not meant to be soggy, sloppy, oil-drenched slivers. As I ate them, I could not stop thinking about the way Anthony Bourdain described the crucial importance of the Les Halles fry man in his book Kitchen Confidential. Let me tell you, after eating those fries, my respect for the fry man was in no short supply.
Brasserie Les Halles
Timothy’s is in fact both a fine dining restaurant and a wine and jazz bar. When my party accidentally entered through the bar, I became skeptical as to whether the casual-chic room was the bistro portion of the establishment. The notably quieter and more formal bistro was hiding adjacent, behind a storefront that could have been more clearly marked. The initial confusion on my part was followed by confusion on the part of the host, who, when we informed him of our reservation (which had been confirmed by them a few hours earlier), did not seem to be expecting us.
peppery, slightly sweet – a truly delicious complement to the duck. The quantity, however, overcame the taste; there was simply too much.


Don’t let the cityscape on its web site fool you, Birch Street Bistro, located at 14 Birch Street in Roslindale, is more than a stone’s throw from Boston’s downtown. However, upon stepping into into the restaurant, you would never know it. The dimly-lit dining area exudes a sophisticated yet welcoming ambiance. The first thing that catches the eye is the bar, which I imagine as something akin to a monster ready to swallow the dining room. It is on the larger side, but if you don’t feel inclined to eat at the bistro, it is makes drinking until you don’t really care about eating a real option and I can, most certainly, appreciate that. The rustic, unfinished brick interior is accented by elegant ironwork lighting and nicely finished wood tables that almost beg you to sit and eat. The food will make you glad you did.
ispy, fluffy pommes-frites with his eyes closed. I’m partially convinced that this chef actually tried to cook my steak with his eyes closed. Had I ordered the steak medium well, I would give a slightly different review. The steak was most definitely overcooked; however, it was seasoned quite well. The potatoes were not overcooked. Some were perfectly crunchy, although they were on average a bit south of crispy. This may have been due to the fact that they were swimming in the juices of a steak that rested on the same plate.
oli. A pasta dough mixed with puréed spinach encased a beautiful assortment of grilled vegetables which had been finely minced/puréed. One could easily discern the sweet, juicy flavor of green peppers, balanced by the spicy liveliness of red peppers. They were served in tomato water with cut cherry tomatoes. In my opinion, the cherry tomatoes were unnecessary but, aside from the clutter, did not take away anything from the dish.
Birch Street Bistro
As I approached Radici, located at 142 Congress Street in Portsmouth, I noticed that its storefront was encased in a cage of ugly medal scaffolding. Although renovation is not unusual, you would have to the most incompetent manager in the world to start your renovations in late May when you’re located in an area that gets most of its traffic from summer tourists. I hope with all my heart that they were starting their renovations, because if that storefront was the finished product, well, good luck to them. As I peered inside I noticed, much to my curiosity, that at 7 p.m., the restaurant was more or less empty. This should have been my second flashing red light but, once again, I am an optimist.
decided it prudent to seat my party at a table situated right by the door and adjacent to a couple and their two screaming kids. Why she decided to seat two very obviously 20-somethings here and not in the more fashionable rear dining room is beyond me.
although tasty, was more of a mushy porridge of breadcrumbs, garlic and tomato sauce (probably not the best idea to put breadcrumbs on a juicy piece of meat and call it a crust). The sides of asparagus and whipped potatoes showed both a lack of imagination and ill execution. The asparagus was undercooked and tasted only of the butter it were sauteed in. The whipped potatoes were not whipped at all, considering there were plenty of mildly undercooked potato bits. And someone really needs to tell this chef, or more probably, line cook about the wonderful invention called salt.
only of lemon. I would not be surprised if i the fettuccine was cooked in lemonade. The dish failed to incorporate the wonderful flavor of the capers, and the piece of chicken slabbed on top seemed to exist only as an observer to the tangled web of overcooked fettuccine that dwelled below.
average, but I remember thinking that the chocolate -chunk crème brûlée was out of this world. It was slightly over brûléed, and the chocolate was sitting in a hard layer underneath the creme. The tiramisu was, once again, average, however, I will concede that the presentation was impressive. It didn’t taste very much like tiramisu, as there was not the slightest taste of coffee. Whatever coffee taste was there was drowned in a sea of strong raspberry sauce.
Radici