Visited The Local for the first time–a new group of Massachusetts restaurants clearly tapping into the “local” theme. Felt a lot like a Friday’s sans red stripes. Felt like a restaurant started by a non restaurant person who thought, “whoa, local is hot…let’s open restaurants called Local…” They were busy. We expected the “Crispy Brussel sprouts” to be properly crisped leaves, like you get in a proper chef-driven restaurant. Instead, we got deep fried, borderline-burnt brussels with a thin, flat soy’ish glaze’ish dipping sauce. No soul.
It reminded me of the sous chef we interviewed a few moons ago, who spoke of his current restaurant job as being a “farm to table” environment. Later in the interview he mentioned how they go to Restaurant Depot once a week to by their meat. I wasn’t sure if I should laugh, call his mother and rat him out or jump out of my chair and tackle him and roll around on the floor pummeling him all-Peter-Griffin-like.
Instead, I just sat silent waiting for the interview to end. No soul.
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