Franklin Café

By staying away from the impulse to do too much, a popular little bistro creates some magic moments

by Robert Nadeau

276 Shawmut Avenue (South End), Boston; 350-0010
Open daily 5:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m.
Full bar
AE, MC, Visa
Up two steps from street level

Perhaps 18 months ago, I was eating in a top-rated South End restaurant with a large table of food writers. We were showing off for one another, putting each dish under the distorting microscope of technical attention. As the only restaurant critic present, I was getting more and more confused. Was the food at -- why be coy -- Hamersley's Bistro really so seriously flawed that I ought to re-review the restaurant, or was this group simply ruining its own good time? At last, the one writer present who regularly ate at Hamersley's said something like: "They have too many things on the plate. They ought to concentrate on fewer things they do really well."

I felt right then that we were at a pivotal moment. Platters had so piled up in the past several years that an inevitable reaction was about to set in. The quick success of the Franklin Café a year later confirms that reaction: the food here represents a move toward a new simplicity, with perhaps one main idea and one interesting twist per plate. The result is a cuisine that seems serene and balanced.

Because the minimalist décor at the Franklin is almost without reference -- the use of black is vaguely Beatnik-revival, but that's about it -- all kinds of people find this spot comfortable and comforting, despite persistent crowds and a rather loud bar scene. (People smoke at the bar, but high ceilings and a battery of "smoke-eater" ventilators eliminate the aroma.) We came early to avoid being inconvenienced by the no-reservations policy, got the last empty booth a little before 6 p.m., and had an awfully satisfying meal.

The Franklin Café has a good list of "small plates" that can be eaten as appetizers, bar snacks, or midnight suppers. I was not just delighted but moved by a fresh-fish-and-potato chowder ($6). Although the broth tasted more of celery than seafood, its bisque-like intensity set off the sweetness of the fish marvelously, and the potatoes very well indeed. Blackened balsamic shrimp ($8) sounded like an example of '90s-style vertical food, but this plate was safely horizontal, with shrimp blackened only about as much as regular grilled shrimp would be, and balsamic glaze that was reasonably subtle. The twist here was that the underlying crouton was actually a slice of baked eggplant. With a garnish of mixed greens, this plate was enough appetizer for three, or a light dinner for one.

Seared soy-marinated chicken livers ($7) again benefited from a light hand with a dangerous condiment -- just enough soy to salt the richness of the livers -- and a mild searing that left each liver with some crunchy corners but plenty of tender center. Contrasting flavors came from excellent bacon and few onions. A caesar salad ($5), was like anyone's caesar salad: nothing to write Rome about.

Two simple fish plates used a similar twist: beans with fish. In herbed and crusted trout ($12), the underlying white beans worked as a sauce, emphasizing the meatiness of an often-bland fillet more effectively than either the mild herbs or crust did. In a special of seared salmon, another potentially dull hatchery fish was enlivened with a side dish/sauce of lentils in red wine. Again, the unlikely "sauce" brought out heartier qualities in the fish.

Fresh fettuccine with chorizo ($12) was the rare assembled pasta dish that amounted to something, possibly because there was so little sauce that the al dente pasta ribbons were just coated with a little tomato-pepper-sausage essence, while the lumps of Portuguese-style sausage (and a few peas, and some burnt slices of garlic) were occasional treats. Most mouthfuls were plain pasta with a little sauce, and it all reminded me that people used to eat noodles as a staple and love them.

Roasted turkey meatloaf ($12) has become a Franklin Café signature dish. I'm not so sure about it. It comes in a cube layered like a moussaka or a lasagna, but there are only three layers. The bottom of each cube is excellent garlic mashed potatoes, also available as a "side starch" for $3. Above that is a layer of simple ground turkey, slightly sweet, slightly gamey, but basically as bland a protein as there is. The sauce is a spiced fig sauce rather like the tomato sauce on a moussaka, but more surprising, more sweet-and-sour, and somewhat harder to take. For many South Enders, this is neo-comfort food, but for me, it's not quite comfort food (the fig sauce being so unfamiliar) or serious cuisine (the turkey and potato layers being so basic). I feel the way an English person might if he were served shepherd's pie with a raspberry coulis on top. Of course, I suppose there might be a café somewhere in South London serving that right now.

Wines on the current list run from $14 to $34, a reasonable range, and are mostly the kind of California bottles that are interesting right off the shelf, along with a few new-wave Italians. We had the Grgich Hills sauvignon blanc ($23), which is as light and clean as a French Sancerre or Pouilly-Fumé.

Franklin Café has no desserts, which is somewhat radical for a restaurant so far off the main stretches of Tremont Street. These days, a no-desserts policy can work in the North End, with its walkable streets and wealth of pastry and espresso shops, but the need to go elsewhere for dessert doesn't make for a fine evening on a very quiet block of Shawmut Avenue. (The street was once the bustling heart of the South End Syrian-Lebanese community, lined with contesting restaurants and coffee shops.) That said, there was no pressure on us to give up our table, and we had an enjoyable linger over coffee, which is available in regular and decaf -- none of that espresso-machine stuff.

One benefit of the no-dessert policy is that it gives other people a chance at a table. Another nice effect is to hold down the total on the check, especially for grazers or one-course diners. With that approach, the Franklin Café becomes an affordable luxury, which adds to the coziness.

Despite its oddities, the Franklin Café is what you might call a very useful restaurant. It will impress foodies, comfort the unfashionable, and welcome them all. The "bad" location is an easy walk for many South Enders of moderate means for whom the famous places on Tremont are too expensive, and for whom the more moderate places toward Massachusetts Avenue are too far. The parking situation is hellish, but on those nights when one does find a parking space, a booth at the Franklin, and a plain-looking dish with one brilliant twist, it is as if the world has come together for a while.