Restaurant Week lunch at Summer Winter

Hey, look! She's blogging again! I know, it's been (checks) holy moly, a month since I last posted. Frankly, I just haven't felt like writing — or at least haven't had much to write about.

Treatment is going ... well, it's going. I've now had four cycles with The Bag, and will get an MRI in a couple of weeks to see whether The Lump is at a point that my scary-but-briliant radiation oncologist can start planning the "la-sers."

Meanwhile, apart from weekly hospital visits for treatment/music therapy/acupuncture/sandwiches, I've been spending most of my time at home. I'm not supposed to go out in the sun (chemo makes the skin especially susceptible to burning) so I mostly sit on my now-cozy porch to read, nap, drink protein shakes, nap, watch movies, and nap. I don't have much to complain about, but also nothing exciting to write about.

For the past two cycles, my chemo side effects have been greatly reduced. It's either the result of reducing the dose, or the benefits of weekly acupuncture, or both, but whatever the reason, I'm no longer spending four straight days on a liquid diet.

Which is why on Friday, instead of miserably inhaling cold soup though a straw, I was able to enjoy Restaurant Week lunch at Summer Winter in Burlington.

I went with my ladies-who-lunch friend Jean, with whom I'd visited Summer Winter for Restaurant Week last March. The highlight of that lunch had been the blueberry upside-down cake, the memory of which had lingered since. So when I saw it was part of the Resto Week menu this time, I was extremely happy.

We got a table along the wall of windows that look out onto Summer Winter's tiny patio and veggie garden. Here are their boxes of squash.



Unfortunately, we were also right next to the floor a/c vents, which meant we were in a chilly draft. Note to self: Next time, bring a wrap.

Summer Winter's garden and greenhouse mean they use fresh herbs in just about everything, including their cocktails. I really wanted to try one, but my mouth isn't quite ready for liquor yet. And I was interested to see what the bar was capable of. So when our first server asked if I wanted a drink, I asked if I could get a non-alcoholic something that used some of the same herbs as the booze versions. He said he'd see what he could do.

Meanwhile, food. First up, mini crab cakes.

It's easy to take a heavy hand to crab cakes; they can be dense and rich in a way that masks the delicate meat. These, however, were light, flaky, with a slight crispness to the batter.



They came with what the menu listed as "Mom's slaw," which again could have meant crudely sliced cabbage awash with mayo, but instead was almost translucent cabbage in a vinaigrette — a much more effective foil for the lightly creamy crabby patties.



Jean ordered the gazpacho. I didn't try it (sometimes, even tomato is a little too acidic for my still-healing mouth) but she said it was delicious. Certainly looked it.



For my main, I went with cavatelli with roast corn and lobster.



Grilling corn really brings out the flavor; every mouthful tasted like summer. The lobster was sweet and fresh. The only thing that didn't totally work was the queso fresco topping; it neither melted nor crumbled into the dish, but instead sat and waited to be eaten in two lumps.

(Not that I have a problem eating lumps of cheese, you understand; but once they were gone, they were gone.)

Jean had the planked haddock, which came with jasmine rice and a sauce we couldn't decipher (dill? Fennel?) but which turned out to be tarragon and mustard. Good fish and a nice presentation.



Halfway through, our main server came to check in. I asked about the mocktail, which still hadn't shown up.

"Oh," he said, "that other guy wasn't your server. He probably didn't put the order in."

Oookayyy ... then maybe he shouldn't have asked what I wanted to drink?

Anyway, I explained again what I was looking for — something that took advantage of Summer Winter's herb crop — and he disappeared, returning soon after with a highball of this:



It had, let's see: basil, mint, lavender, lemon geranium, lime, lemon, and blueberries, finished with soda water. He said it was a take on the restaurant's vodka-based blueberry lime rickey, to which he added a couple of things.

It was refreshing, aromatic, and complex; a perfect summer drink.

I'd probably have been quite happy with that as dessert, but there was more to come. Both Jean and I had the long-awaited blueberry upside-down cake.



Looking back at last year's Restaurant Week lunch at Summer Winter, I realize the dessert is almost exactly the same. Last time, it came with ice cream, while this year the accompaniment was cinnamon-infused whipped cream (a nice complement to the blueberries). I thought it was more lemony last year, but Jean said this one also had a good note of lemon, so it's possible my dented taste buds just weren't getting it.

Either way, it was still good enough that, as I did last year, I decided I needed to make my own at home. There are wild organic Maine blueberries sitting in the fridge right now, and this time I'm actually going to follow through with the plan.

Which means I might not wait a whole month before I post again.

Lunch at Summer Winter

For my second winter Restaurant Week lunch, I went with my friend Jean to Summer Winter, which is in a Marriott in Burlington.

That's right: lunch at a chain hotel in the 'burbs.

But I had high expectations; Jean, who loves food as much as I do, had been there before and reported back positively, so I knew it would be good.

Even when we arrived to find a Compaq seminar in full swing at the hotel.

Even when we passed the fauxing "Irish" pub, decked out in faith-and-begorrah cartoon kitsch.

Even when the room next door seemed to be hosting a Charles Schwab-sponsored buffet.

The entrance to Summer Winter is warm wood and textured stone, which kind of evokes Tuscany or perhaps Napa.



It's a big space, with a long bar with lounge area, a small oyster bar and a few dining tables on one level, and a lower level with even more tables. There's also an outside patio with a greenhouse, where they grow herbs and veggies all year round to use in the kitchen.

Given the backgrounds of Summer Winter's two chefs, one of whom spent time in Beijing, I expected a diverse and adventurous menu.

But both the Restaurant Week and regular lunch menus focused on yer usual New England lunch favorites: soup, salads, sandwiches. Lobster roll with french fries. Cheeseburger with french fries. Tomato soup and grilled cheese. Crab cakes; clam chowder; chopped salad.

Jean said, "We should get the strange-flavored eggplant."

Was she kidding? Nope, there it was on the menu. So we did.



Oh boy. The flavor wasn't so much strange as awesome. But I guess if they called it "awesome-flavored eggplant" it would seem to be over-promising.

It was soy sauce and ginger and brown sugar and red pepper and lime; it hit every kind of taste bud and made them all smile.



Jean ordered the cod burger (with french fries). It looked exactly like every burger everywhere.



But the fries were surprisingly good — crispy on the outside, soft and fluffy inside — and they were still good cold; they didn't dry out or lose texture.

The burger was more like a traditional fish cake, with the cod combined with mashed potato; good comfort food.



I had a tempura haddock curry, which came in a nice plating with peanuts, pickled veggies, and fried shallots.





The curry was light and sweet and coconutty; the fish was fresh, and it was fun to try different taste combinations (nuts and curry! Shallots and fish! Fish and strange-tasting eggplant!)

And then we had to have dessert, of course. Of course.

My lemon tart was bright and zesty, and came with the added bonus of a brulée-like sugar crust.



Jean went for the blueberry upside-down cake, which had a fabulous topping of sugar and fruit and a lovely, light hint of lemon.



Summer Winter is an interesting place; its menus seem aimed at the diner who is more comfortable with recognizable dishes. Dinner is much like lunch, with the addition of the usual suspects: filet mignon and steamed lobster and roast chicken.

But there's a level of creativity and skill that isn't always found at steak houses and other (shudder) "fine dining" places. It's a definite step up from the nearest decent restaurant, Legal Sea Foods, and I'd choose Summer Winter over Legals from now on, given the option.

Even if just for more of the blueberry cake.