Southern style at M3 in Davis Square

Like the formation of a new and delicious galaxy, there has been something of a slow-motion explosion of interesting places to eat in the Boston-Cambridge-Somerville area over the past year or so.

Which is particularly frustrating when one spends a considerable amount of time unable to eat (or at least unable to eat in polite society). I spend my days reading local food blogs and noting the new arrivals with a mix of curiosity and chagrin.

On good weeks, I'm torn: Do I try out a new restaurant, or do I fall back on an old favorite (especially if I've been craving, say, Eastern Standard's charcuterie plate while sucking cold soup through a straw)?

Last night we decided on the former, and headed into Davis Square to check out new southern restaurant M3, which is in the corner spot that used to be Out of the Blue, which was in the spot that used to be Dolly's.



It's a small space, and was pretty busy when we arrived before 6pm. The only available seats were at the counter, which suited us fine, because we were able to watch the action in the tiny kitchen.

The decor is retro-kitsch, but not precious. The walls are covered in chalkboard paint, the lights are hung inside canning jars, and the beer fridge is vintage and chubby.



We ordered beer and studied the menu: frogs' legs? Fried green tomatoes? Oyster po' boy made with Island Creeks? Duck fat (gasp!) burger?

No, wait. Of course, it had to be:



Deep fried cheese curds.

We had discussed going to the Big E again this year, pretty much for the sole purpose of tracking down the cheese curds vendor. But now we didn't have to.

Which, as The Boy pointed out, was not necessarily a good thing.

"It was better when they were a two-hour drive away, and only available for a few days a year," he said, between mouthfuls of popplers. "Now they're just down the street. How am I supposed to control myself?"

The curds at M3 are less cheesy than their state fair cousins — rather than being in big chewy chunks, the cheese is smaller and melts into the batter. But we could still imagine ourselves stopping by M3 for a beer and a quick cheese-curd fix. Often. Too often.

Anyway, there was something more dangerously tasty on the specials board yesterday: chicken and waffle nuggets.



Imagine brined chicken, dipped in waffle batter, deep fried and finished with poached cherries.

The whole thing is soft and warm; the batter is pillowy and a little sweet; the fruit adds a slight tartness and pulls everything together.



Now we really could have stopped there; a little deep-fried goodness goes a long way. But we'd already ordered mains, all of which come with a choice of three sides (hence "meat and three," or M3). So:

For The Boy, chicken-fried steak with corn, Brussels sprouts and sweet potato casserole.



The steak breading had an almost chocolatey note to it, which was unexpected and good.

I've never quite understood how marshmallow became the default topping for sweet potatoes, but there you go. This was Fluff, which I guess counts as locavore (??).



I had the catfish, with more Brussels, the mac and cheese, and the root veggie hash.



The fish was nice and flaky, though sliced so thin that it was a little overwhelmed by the batter for my liking.



The sprouts were small and plentiful, and the mac and cheese ... was a thing of beauty. Light, creamy, with a mild cheese sauce, it reminded me of the baked macaroni pudding desserts we'd sometimes have when I was a kid.

But yes, we had indeed ordered way too much food; the portions are extremely generous.



How generous? Put it this way: we had our sides boxed up to bring home. I weighed the leftovers, which clock in at just over a pound.

In other news, dinner tonight is sorted.

I currently feel a little overwhelmed at the number of new places to try. Do youse guys have any suggestions? Is there a new restaurant we really should check out while I'm still able to eat?

Foundry on Elm: More decent food in Davis!

At the start of the 2000s, I worked for a custom publishing company in Davis Square, temptingly close to secondhand booksellers McIntyre & Moore. Their collection was broad and deep, and I spent many lunch hours browsing the shelves, which held everything from ethnomusicology to science fiction.

And then the store closed and moved to Porter Square, and apart from a brief stint as a store selling wooden salad bowls, their cavernous former location was empty.

Until this week, when Foundry on Elm opened. We went to check it out last night.

It certainly doesn't look like a bookstore any more. Though the bar does seem strangely familiar.



No, despite the marble counter, the red leather bar stools, the staff in black vests and the stacked arrangement of bottles in front of oversized mirrors, this is not Eastern Standard.



Behind the bar, however, is Andy Kilgore, formerly of No.9 Park (and Stoddard's; perhaps his departure explains why now Stoddard's cocktails are crap).

The cocktail menu at Foundry on Elm is short but thoughtful: a few new creations plus a handful of classics. I went for the Seelbock, which here was made with Buffalo Trace and came in a coupe.



The Boy chose the Sazerac — always a good test — in which the glass was rinsed with absinthe; the rye was Old Overholt.

So far, so good.

We were surprised at how busy the place was; we arrived just before 7, and Foundry on Elm was hopping. I'm glad we made a reservation, as there were a lot of walk-ins waiting.

Our table was a red-leather booth toward the back (somewhere around the fiction section, IIRC). The place was just louder than I like, in a lean-across-the-table-to-be-heard way. But the food made up for it.



A charcuterie plate of flaky duck terrine, pâté de campagne, tissue-thin and perfectly salted prosciutto and a deep, almost chocolatey duck liver mousse. I wiped the mousse dish clean with their (also fabulous, and reminiscent of my grandmother's) brown bread.

Also present: a selection of delicately pickled seasonal veggies.



And then the mains. For me, beef carbonnade, slow-cooked in beer and served with root veggies. Apologies that the photo does not to it justice; the meat was tender, the juices both sweet and savory, the carrot and parsnip just-crunchy.



The Boy had steak frites (again, sorry about not-great photo):



The fries were not the best — though tasty, they were a little dry, as though they'd been sitting around a while — but the steak.

Oh, the steak.

No special silverware needed; it hardly even required a knife.



The condiments here are garlic butter (fore) and a kind of shallot jam (aft). The Boy thought the shallots would have been better warm, but the flavor was sweet and lovely.

We were too full for dessert, but that just gives us a reason to return. Possibly not on a Saturday night, though; by the time we left, at around 8:30, Foundry on Elm was packed and a little too scene-y for my taste (hey, I'm old, I admit it).

But given the proximity to our house, the creativity of the bar staff and the skill of the kitchen, I could see Foundry on Elm becoming a regular destination. We're already planning a visit some Tuesday night in the depths of winter for the weekly coq au vin special ...