(From January 2012)

More cheerful and informal than Bruce Auden’s downtown chapel of gastronomy, Biga on the Banks, the Kitchen shows the maestro in his relaxed, unbuttoned mode, where casual excellence ensures a steady stream of customers. Our fine Scotch egg (a hard-boiled egg coated with sausage and breading, then fried, served with jalapeño aioli) competed with a bountiful plate of toast and sautéed wild mushrooms for appetizer honors (it was a stand-off), while a gloriously light salmon filet, served on a crisply crusted bed of polenta, outshone the heavy and, we thought, heavy-handed lamb stroganoff. Even the old stand-by, lemon meringue pie, assumes new life here: its lemon curd is tart and intense, its billowing meringue thick and sweet, and its flavor reflecting a bit of brown sugar. Bar.

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(From February 2012)

If ever the word “collegial” applied to a restaurant, it’s this one, featuring dark woods, TV sets broadcasting international soccer games, and an eight-page menu devoted to lagers, ales, and beers (even gluten-free ones). We were quite surprised with the sophistication of our entrée: two gigantic braised pork shanks glistening with a swath of shiitake demi-glace and perched on a bed of orzo. Irish Cream Bash Pie (go figure) looked as dense as a brick, but its Irish cream mousse filling, held in place by a chocolate cookie crumb crust, was ethereal. Bar.

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