Right around the corner from me is The Franklin Cafe.
This was the destination for my first Friday night dinner.
This was the destination for my first Friday night dinner.
Easy, lowly lit, this place is a go-to. The interior is soft and welcoming, with great globe light fixtures, large comfortable booths, high-backed barstools at the bar and plenty of room for standing and socializing between the two. The crowd last night was laid back and casual, most likely prepping for today's big festivities of St. Patrick's Day (as soon as I get organized around here, I'm headed out to see what that's all about. Expect a post tomorrow). Although, a note on fashion, I did see a grown man in a full grey sweatsuit. No one gave it a second thought... Hmmm...
Annnnways.
The food is simple and good. This place is definitely a bar, too. But the good news is, I can't tell if it's a bar first and restaurant second, or vice versa. Both the drinks and food are on equal playing fields. We opted to split a few plates. Garlic grilled calamari served with basil and baby white beans, skillet roasted mussels served simply with melted butter and homemade pumpkin ravioli served with browned sage butter. The seafood did not disappoint, the calamari had a really great grilled flavor and texture and was really refreshed by the basil. The mussels were mussels. Simple with the butter. Good. The density of the homemade ravioli was fantastic. It could have used a little more spunk in the flavor, an extra kick. But overall, the sage and roasted pine nuts served it well.
Nom...
I had a glass of Prosecco to start and followed with a Maple Manhattan. The cocktail was less sweeter than I had expected, which was great. I'll go back for that drink on a fall afternoon.
It was a long dinner, so I finished the evening with a nightcap of Markers and ginger. And a word to the less wise, the pours in Boston are bigger than they are in San Francisco. I'm used to a cocktail coming in lowball glass. A short one. Here, they come in tall ones. Highballs. When I questioned the bartender about the size of the glass, whether this was mistakenly a double, he answered, simply, that "No, Bostonians just like to get drunk."
Ok, then. Good to know.
And now, I'm off to see those Bostonians do just that on my first Boston St. Patty's Day.
Erin go bragh, all! and Ireland Forever!
xo,
eb
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