Choosing Sides at Sibling Rivalry

Sibling RivalryScot and I went to the hot new restaurant in the South End last night: Sibling Rivalry. The intersection of Tremont and Berkeley Streets is hoping to become an alternative to Boston’s lackluster theatre district. Already the home of the Cyclorama, and a pair of black box theatres that are part of the Boston Center for the Arts, the recent construction of the Calderwood Pavillion and the Atelier 505 building has added new elegance to the neighborhood. Sibling Rivalry is the dinner companion to the new theater located in the Calderwood Pavillion. We’d been aware of Sibling Rivalry for a while, but when my co-worker Maura mentioned it as the new hip place to eat, it became lodged in my brain as a place to check out.

We arrived as the restaurant opened at 5:30 since it was a Saturday night and hadn’t made reservations. My inital impressions were good, bolstered by the elegant decor, warm rust and purple design, and friendly hostess. Their specialty cocktails were funky and appealing, and both of scored with delicious drinks. I enjoyed El Diablo, a bold concoction of tequila, creme de cassis, blackberries and a splash of ginger ale, while Scot’s tart blend of gin, lime juice and mint was offset by a sugared rim. The dinner menu revolved around the two brothers who act as Sibling Rivalry’s chefs. Down the center of the menu is a list of key ingredients; arugala, garlic and rosemary; lamb; poultry, etc. To the right were the dishes created by Chef David and to the left, those created by Chef Bob. (The experience is reminiscent of Iron Chef.) The appetizers were printed in red and the main dishes in black. [On a side note, I read in today’s Boston Globe Magazine that a menu for the colorblind is available.]

Scot started with the four cheese raviloi appetizer followed by the braised and grilled lamb. I ordered the tuna tartare, with the mussells in a rosemary garlic cream sauce appetizer as my main course. Both of us were pleased with our first dishes. The tuna tarare arrived wrapped in a thin cucumber sheath, complimented by duck skin sushi rolls, two thin handmade potato chips, a delicious shallot garlic dipping sauce, and a tiny ball of wasabi. It was delicious and refreshing. Scot was quite taken with his four raviolis. Between courses, Scot ordered a glass of zinfandel, which I was not a fan of, but he enjoyed.

I was surprised by the size of the bowl of mussels that arrived shortly thereafter; it was, after all, listed as an appetizer. The rosemary garlic sauce was delicate and rich. I only had one bad mussel (it’s my own test of a restaurants ability to do mussels — B&G Oysters, ltd. is the all-time mussel champion) but a couple were a little rubbery. All in all a pleasant if not perfect mussel experience. Unfortunately, Scot’s lamb dish was less successful. The sauce was a bit sweet, the braised portion incredibly dry, and the grilled lamb alternately tender and tough.

For desert I opted for the warm, chocolate sourdough cake with sliced peaches and a peach sorbet (which Scot enjoyed.) The cake was nice and semi-sweet, and deliciously rich. No complaints there. I had hoped to enjoy desert with a nice cognac, but their choices were on the expensive side. Scot finished off with his signature Knob Creek neat.

Scot was disappointed with his entree, and I noted that the lamb dish was the only selection we sampled from Chef Bob’s side of the menu. Chef David’s offerrings were uniformly enjoyed. We thought it might be a nice touch for a board to hang by the kitchen marking which chef’s received the most orders, thereby enhancing the rivalry inherent in the menu’s presentation.

Ultimately we decided that Sibling Rivalry was fairly overpriced, entrees in the high $20’s. If the food had been exquisite, the price would have been worth it. Despite the hype, if I want to spend that much for a meal, I will stick to a reliable favorite in Aquitaine. And if the need to feel hip and trendy strikes, I’ll cross the street and hit B&G Oysters. I doubt that we will visit Sibling Rivalry again, giving David and Bob another chance to show that their food matches their ambience, but our first experience was less than stellar.

Remember grade school, when everyone was ‘gay?’

Michael’s friend Shirley was visiting this week from Alabama. Today, she brought her three kids into the city to visit Michael at work. While they were in his office, Michael was pointing out our cool wedding announcement to Shirley.

“You mean you guys are married?” asks Eric, who’s about seven years old.

“Yep,” says Michael. “We can do that in Massachusetts or in Canada.”

“If you were in Alabama, you’d be gay.”

Delicious Fat Babies

So, I finally did it. I got a tattoo. I’ve wanted to for a while, but it’s hard to decide what you want to display on your body for the rest of your life. I settled on an icon that has lasted nearly a hundred years: The Hungry Tiger of Oz.

My tattoo with Esm?'s tattoo

He first appeared in 1907 in L. Frank Baum’s Ozma of Oz. With the Cowardly Lion, he pulls the royal chariot of girl monarch Ozma. Dorothy meets him in chapter eight.

“Oh! Are you hungry?” she asked, turning to the other beast, who was just then yawning so widely that he displayed two rows of terrible teeth and a mouth big enough to startle anyone.

“Dreadfully hungry,” answered the Tiger, snapping his jaws together with a fierce click.

“Then why don’t you eat something?” she asked.

“It?s no use,” said the Tiger sadly. “I’ve tried that, but I always get hungry again.”

“Why, it is the same with me,” said Dorothy. “Yet I keep on eating.”

“But you eat harmless things, so it doesn’t matter,” replied the Tiger. “For my part, I’m a savage beast, and have an appetite for all sorts of poor little living creatures, from a chipmunk to fat babies.”

“How dreadful!” said Dorothy.

The Hungry Tiger of Oz
“Isn’t it, though?” returned the Hungry Tiger, licking his lips with his long red tongue. “Fat babies! Don’t they sound delicious? But I’ve never eaten any, because my conscience tells me it is wrong. If I had no conscience I would probably eat the babies and then get hungry again, which would mean that I had sacrificed the poor babies for nothing. No; hungry I was born, and hungry I shall die. But I’ll not have any cruel deeds on my conscience to be sorry for.”

“I think you are a very good tiger,” said Dorothy, patting the huge head of the beast.

I got the tattoo at Redemption Tattoo in Cambridge. Erick Lynch did a fantastic job! I highly recommend him, if you are in the market for a really good artist.

My friend Jamie went with me to get a Chinese symbol meaning “peace” on the back of her neck, which took all of 10 minutes. Even mine took only about an hour, which I found really surprising. But the best part was when the guy from the front desk popped in to deliver a message to Erick.

“Your mom called. She’ll call back later.”

How can you not love a tattoo artist who gets a call from his mom at work?

I was really surprised that it didn’t hurt all that much. Sure it was like a constant pricking, but not even as bad as a shot at the doctor’s or getting blood taken. And the vibration of the pen was kinda nice. So, my advice is: if you want to get a tattoo, get the size, design, and placement right. It really doesn’t matter how little it hurts if it’s all wrong, so don’t get a tiny one just to avoid the pain. It’s still a pretty damned permanent commitment.

Just don’t ask Erick to draw a straight line around your leg. Apparently, the stencil is a pain to mold around body parts that aren’t perfectly cylindrical.

“You’re not a can of Coke!” he told one young customer. “Why do I always get this geometric shit?!”