“Fine dining” is one of my least favorite restaurant phrases. First, like “fine wine” or “fine art,” it’s a snobby phrase, implying that other restaurants aren’t fine. (Antonyms for “fine,” according to Thesaurus.com, include “bad,” “inferior,” and “ugly.”) Second, it describes a style of service more than the quality of food. I’ve had some of my worst meals at self-described “fine dining” restaurants with over-engineered cuisine and an awkward, stuffy vibe, and some of my best meals at simple, humble places that would never use words like “fine.”
There is, however, a special category of restaurants that do take the experience of both service and food to a higher level. They spend a lot more than your average restaurant on labor, ingredients and atmosphere, and you pay a lot more too – but they turn your meal into a special occasion. It’s not just dinner. It’s a dinner date. In that context, I’m calling these restaurants — or at least my favorites among them — “date places.”
Here I use “date” expansively: it might be a couple’s night out, or a family birthday dinner, or a gathering of old friends, or a celebration of a work promotion, or even a date with yourself, a solo-dining experience where you relax over a sumptuous meal after a hard day’s work. No matter the group or the occasion, the idea is to escape from the real world for an evening, in the hands of people who love what they do and whose cooking and service passes that love on to you.
Homestead, in the heart of downtown Northampton, is just this kind of place. Nowhere in western Massachusetts will you feel more like an avant-garde urbanite than you will in this elegant, warmly lit space, decked out with tasteful art and rustic wood chairs, where you’ll order off a menu that’s packed with complex, exciting dishes that have one foot in Italy and another in the local farms of the Pioneer Valley.
This kitchen does an outrageously good job with pasta — any pasta. The giant ricotta dumpling, with mildly spicy Italian sausage, tomato confit, rapini greens and pine nuts has been my favorite dish here since opening. Homestead’s take on spaghetti carbonara integrates roasted garlic and cured egg yolk for a party in your mouth.
It’s also hard to go wrong with the proteins. Meatballs get a delicious dose of ricotta salata (imagine if ricotta and parmesan had a baby) and fennel oil. Octopus with chicory, raisins and peppers makes for a fascinating mix of flavors and textures. Cocktails are an underappreciated strength here — I love coming for an early-evening bourbon sour, expertly made with egg whites, just as it should be.
Alina’s, Hadley. Nobody understands the old-time romance of a fancy date more than Alina’s, where a lively bar divides two intimate, warmly lit dining rooms. One of them has a grand piano that’s lovingly played three nights per week by local musicians like Ed Brainerd, who periodically breaks out his trumpet at the piano bench. On Tuesdays, when most date places are closed, Alina’s has not only live piano but also a bargain-priced three-course “date night” meal for two that includes a bottle of wine.
My favorite way to start here is with a beautifully plated row of seared sea scallops in a deep mushroom reduction that reminds me of the luscious sauces of Switzerland or Austria. ”Buonabocca,” a longtime standby, is another winning appetizer, with breaded mozzarella “pillows” stuffed with spinach and sun-dried tomatoes.
Here’s the difference between food lovers and food snobs. Food lovers celebrate any form of obvious deliciousness, regardless of where it came from. Food snobs like to shun anything that’s not “authentic.” Fettucinealfredo, an authentically American (rather than authentically Italian) dish, is a great litmus test for snobbery. Anyone who simply loves pure deliciousness will submit to Alina’s rich, creamy “spicy alfredo,” which integrates chicken, sausage, shrimp, and hot dried chilies into this children’s classic.
Also in the anti-snob vein is ”Palermitana,” with angel-hair pasta (a.k.a. ”spaghettini” or “vermicelli,” a noodle type that barely exists in Italy but is popular in Vietnam and worked its way into upmarket Italian-American restaurants in the 1990s), greens, garlic, pine nuts, sun-dried tomatoes, raisins and red pepper flakes.
Alina’s deserves a shoutout for offering smaller, lower-priced portions of some of its pasta mains. This is not only advancing the cause of reducing food waste, but also saving some easily tempted bellies from overeating.
Watershed, in Montague’s magical Bookmill, is your over-the-river-and-through-the-woods dream come true, a place where you can almost see the nymphs and satyrs darting in and out of the trees. Indoors, old wooden beams frame a cozy array of seating overlooking a tree-lined bend of river. Outside, you’re right on the riverbanks. Next door are the Lady KillegrewCafé and Bookmill bookstore, which I’ve waxed about in a previous column.
Come early in the evening if you want your choice of the menu, which, last time I went, included a smoked half-chicken and jasmine-rice risotto studded with little diced veggies; juicy, precisely cooked skirt steak, garnished with chimichurri, creamy mashed potatoes and zucchini; and an excellent version of mac and cheese, made with cavatappi (like curly ridged macaroni), a bit al dente, with just the right amount of creaminess.
Waxwing, in an unlikely location on Route 10 in West Hatfield, opened in early 2020. Gutsy move. But the fact that today you usually can’t get in without making a reservation several days in advance speaks volumes about what they have created against all odds.
This is a family-run restaurant, and the passionate chef-owners transformed an old diner into a charming, stylish restaurant, with soft hanging lights, beautiful artwork, plants, and oldies piped through the stereo. You can sit at a cozy table or at the inviting bar, from where you might be able to watch your meal being prepped and cooked. The staff maintains an unbelievable energy level, all evening, and it permeates every inch of the space.
Your meal will start with an amuse-bouche, which might be a small cup of spectacular chicken broth or a little crêpe with a dollop of some homemade condiment. The menu changes seasonally, and might include crispy oysters with kimchi and a great Caesar salad, well-executed pastas, or a spot-on schnitzel. Desserts are constantly rotating, but they often include my favorite: ricotta with caracara orange marmalade and honey. Cocktails are unique and wonderful, too.
30Boltwood is part of the Inn at Boltwood, the swankiest hotel in Amherst, but this is not your ordinary hotel restaurant. Under a covered outdoor porch, there’s an enjoyable row of tables that have heat lamps to keep you warm in the chill as autumn becomes winter. In the uncovered outdoor area, there’s even a fire pit. Indoors, a classic bar lords over a lattice of semi-private oval-shaped banquette pods — equally great digs for a canoodling couple or a group of five. One of the most unique things about 30Boltwood is that it’s open on Mondays, when almost nobody else is.
At my last visit, I was most impressed by an unusually rich and creamy Caesar salad, whose bouncy leaves are almost homogeneously coated by the satisfying crunch of bread crumbs (micro-croutons?). Clam chowder is thin but milky-rich, with plenty of potatoes and flavor in the stock. Quinoa balls are what would happen if falafel and rice pudding had a baby that they raised in a curried-yogurt manger.
OsteriaVespa, also in Amherst, sits just next to the Amherst Cinema with an ambitious Italian menu and pleasantly buzzy atmosphere that makes for a great dinner-and-a-movie date. Steaks are properly cooked to temperature, and penne with ground-beef ragout (a fancy way of saying “Bolognese”) hits just the right notes.
There are other great date places around that I don’t have room to cover in detail, including Easthampton’sCalico, recently opened and still waiting on its liquor license. Further afield are Gill Tavern, in Gill, and Blue Heron, in Sunderland, both lovely spots. Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention one my favorite fancy date restaurants that I’ve already reviewed in a previous column on fried seafood: downtown Northampton’s legendary Eastside Grill.