I ate at Boston's "Best New Restaurant" of 2024
Thoughts on La Padrona, and indulgence
In the context of today’s dining scene, which moves increasingly towards old-school excess, La Padrona leads the way. Upon entering, you pass through not one, but two, host stands, ascend a wide, curved staircase, receive your coat check number engraved on a brass token, and discover the bread service is $28. Before you even place an order for your main course, you’re thinking maybe Boston isn’t so down home, after all. And, by the time you settle up and descend the grand staircase into the freezing night (or rather, to Grill 23 for a slice of coconut cake and a nightcap), you’re thinking maybe they (Eater and Boston Mag) were right about La Padrona being the best new restaurant of 2024 - if not for the sake of the food, for the experience. For the statement it makes about Boston, and maybe about the future of Boston.
My girlfriends and I visited on a Friday night in January. I arrived early to the Raffles (the five-star hotel home to La Padrona, Amar, Long Bar & Terrace, and Blind Duck) to investigate Long Bar on the 17th floor. I would not eat dinner at Long Bar for several reasons, the most obvious being the reviews are bad, which is especially disappointing considering the sweeping city views (rare in Boston - we don’t do rooftops) and even more so because it is managed by one of the top luxury hospitality brands in the world (Raffles). A 3.7 rating on Google is inexcusable, particularly when you’re charging $600 for a room during slow season and double during peak season.
Visiting for a drink, however, I recommend. The mezcal negroni, the bartender, and the views were all wonderful. I look forward to returning in the summer to chase a buzz on the terrace and watch the sunset. I think that is the point of Long Bar, and it’s a worthy one.
Back down to the lobby, around the corner, and through another door, you arrive at La Padrona. It’s first floor bar was nearly deserted when I arrived at 6:30 PM, but I like that - as a local, it means I can walk in on a weekend night and stand a chance. A reprieve from the Resy nightmare.
The downstairs host took my name and directed me up the staircase to the second host. I typically don’t check my coat, since my anxiety requires me to be able to flee at a moment’s notice, and fussing around at coat check on the way out doesn’t help. However, I succumbed in the name of extravagance and was handed a brass token upon which “21” was engraved. A nice touch. I was told not to lose it - a game I’ve played before, and lost. I quickly snapped a picture of the number, just in case. Not so chic.
My seat at the banquette had a clear view of the bar and much of the restaurant, and I had five perfect minutes to spend staring (always a little too hard) in every direction before my friends arrived. It was a feast for the eyes, and I was interrupted only once by a server asking me for my choice of water and drink. Tap, and another mezcal negroni. I’ve been off martinis so far this year, but it’s only been two weeks, so I’m not too worried. I realized while typing this that my final drink of the night was actually a martini, extra dirty, at Grill 23. I almost tricked even myself.
What I noticed during those initial five minutes: everyone was dressed up, attractive in the bland way Boston people are (with love), and looked happy to be there. The lighting was perfect - dim and refracted; the house music a little too loud for sober ears - which didn’t matter, since no one was; and the design well executed for its purpose (an expensive hotel restaurant). My friends and I quickly established we were envious of the lucky diners seated at the red, semi-circle banquettes lining the far wall of the restaurant - private, photogenic, positively sexy. I suggest requesting one when you reserve.
Onto the food. We skipped the exorbitant $28 bread service (Grill 23, literally down the street, gives you an unlimited bread basket for free! and it has cornbread!) and opted instead for the Tuscan Flatbread, the salad titled the “Autumn” Misticanza - it’s the dead of winter, but I’ll let it slide - and the scallops to start. All three were good, the flatbread and scallops in particular. The flatbread was more of a focaccia, and it was delicious - crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and topped with roast garlic and caramelized onion. The Nantucket Bay Scallops were also a treat (if not a tad small, but I suppose that makes them so tender) and served in a sauce of pancetta, saffron butter, orange, and dill. The salad was well-intended but unfortunately fell victim to dry kale, which is always a risk with a winter salad. The addition of gorgonzola and walnuts almost saved the day, but did not.
Girls night necessitates pasta. There are six on the menu. The first is Burnt Wheat Rigatoni and Clams. I rarely order pasta alle vongole because my husband makes such a good one, and I consider it a summer dish. Also, something about “Burnt Wheat” makes me uneasy. I could be naive, but I skipped it for those reasons. Both the Ricotta/Celery Root Agnolotti (with caviar, which is everywhere it shouldn’t be these days) and the Lobster and Uni Risotto we also skipped. Caviar and lobster are two of the biggest culprits for being dolloped on a dish to make it expensive when it probably lacks substance.
Our server, while describing the Tagliatelle Emilia-Romagna, referred to it as the “TikTok pasta” due to its virality. For investigative purposes, I had to have it, and was looking forward to criticizing it like the cynic I am. Alas, it was good! Straightforward, like a return to the alfredo of our childhoods, but with a drizzle of balsamic. The Parmigiano Reggiano cream sauce was the right amount of sharp and the “12-year” balsamic a nice touch.
My friends enjoyed the Bucatini alla Napoletana (tomatoes, stracciatella, basil) and the Rabbit Ragu Fazzoletti (braised rabbit, roasted sunchokes, fennel). I tried both and was pleased. The portions were good and no more expensive (in the $30s) than other pasta in the Back Bay.
We should know by now that trendy “Italian” restaurants are not ground breaking, but they don’t need to be. There are so many - Coppa, MIDA, Bar Mezzana, Prima, Faccia a Faccia, SRV, Bar Volpe, Contessa… I could go on. The menus are approachable, the execution is good enough, the Aperol spritzes flow, and everyone wants the pasta-and-martini photo op. Design firms are increasingly involved to add the perfect ambiance, banquettes, globe lights, touches of red.
What sets La Padrona apart isn’t the food. It’s the whole thing, a thing which we typically don’t do, or even have access to, in this city. The luxe interior in what is already a luxe building. The multiple touchpoints with good service. It excels at making you feel pampered and special, and the fact it’s hard to get a table only adds to the pleasure of finally being there. The drinks are strong, the food yummy. There is better food in Boston. But not a better experience, in its category, for those looking to indulge.
Yesterday, NY Mag’s Grub Street published a piece on how “we’re doing white tablecloths again.” While the white tablecloths are in actuality missing from La Padrona, what they stand for is there: sitting down for two hours, sipping a cocktail, maybe ordering a nice bottle of wine, working your way from starters to mains to dessert. Asking your fellow diners thoughtful questions, and having the time to listen and follow up. Enjoying the textures, the lighting, the glossy patrons. Growing up a little bit.
Per Grub Street:
“Fifteen years ago, New York Post critic Steve Cuozzo bemoaned the “infantilization of dining” as white tablecloths — elegant, urbane — disappeared from the city’s upscale dining rooms. It was a creep of casualization as diners were increasingly excited to eat Millennium Falco pizzas off of reclaimed lumber or to slurp ramen from a barstool. For so long, the aesthetic of a Brooklyn restaurant was raw brick and Edison bulbs...”
“Today’s diners may be looking for a more transportive experience than the casual diners of previous decades: When people go out to dinner now, they’re treating themselves ... They’re expecting to be in an environment that’s different from being at their house.”
La Padrona offers this experience. In Boston, where so many tech bros don Lululemon joggers and a backpack (what is in there?? are you going for a hike later?) to drink IPAs at beer gardens, we need this - and I hope more literal and proverbial white tablecloth establishments are to follow.
I deeply enjoyed this food writing and happen to love the blurry booth pic- what glamour. Subbed
I honestly can not tell if this makes me love it or hate it! Team Contessa over here — who wins?