"Bucket of balls"

I was born and raised in Worcester, but I’ve been spending time in western Massachusetts since the fall of 1999, when I met people from the Springfield area who would become lifelong friends – and introduce me to my future husband that Thanksgiving weekend. Awww.

Reminiscing aside, this piece of trivia is important. It means that I’ve been familiar with the area for 12 years – and until Saturday night, had never eaten at The Federal in Agawam. For. Shame.

Situated in an historic 1860s building, The Federal’s menu is anything but antiquated. (Though its dining crowd skews old. We may be 30 with relatively experienced palates, but a few times, I felt like I was at the kids’ table at Thanksgiving.) The food is very contemporary, creative and downright whimsical in spots. In other words, right up my alley.

Family and friends who love The Federal told us we couldn’t leave without trying the “bucket of balls” starter (pictured above):  little fried risotto balls finished with black truffle butter and fresh chives on a bed of creamy mashed potatoes. They lived up to the hype, but there was one little hiccup: the kitchen was generously sending amuse-bouche plates to each table, and it happened to be a little taste of the same risotto balls. Thankfully, they were tasty enough to eat twice.

I know it’s a good sign when I can’t decide between several entrees, because they all sound incredible. The Federal was no different. Caught between the seared sea scallops “hash” with duck confit, sugar pumpkins, caramelized onion and “scent of Alba air” and the swordfish with spiced tomato vinaigrette, haricot vert and a bacon-wrapped scallop kebab, I chose the latter.

Swordfish with spiced tomato vinaigrette

It was a battle, but a good one, as the swordfish was perfect and the aromatic, bright tomato sauce was layered with flavor (maybe even a hint of curry?) Rob ended up with braised short ribs, one big hunk of fork-tender meat partnered with sweet, velvety polenta; asparagus and a lush red-wine sauce.

We rarely order dessert, usually because we’re too full from dinner. And sweets rarely inspire me, as I’m a salt lover. But something told me to glance at The Federal’s dessert menu, and I’m glad I did. There was a chocolate covered “waffle” sundae (glutton factor HIGH, with maple bacon gelato, salted caramel and chocolate-dipped bacon.) Fresh ricotta beignets. Warm Nutella crepes. Deconstructed lemon meringue pie. And cinnamon-maple crusted churros, served with a “double-thick vanilla milkshake,” mascarpone and a chocolate “straw.”

Of those, we went with the “ice cream sandwich” – a glazed doughnut stuffed with rich chocolate gelato, served with a little cup of caramelized cinnamon hot chocolate and cookie crumbles.

But, wait. There’s more. As if we weren’t having enough fun with the menu, our waitress brought out a cone of house-spun cotton candy, in a tart green-apple flavor.

Next on my list for a future visit: one of The Federal’s char-grilled “paper thin” pizzas, with lobster, guanciale, asparagus, fontina and truffle oil (HOLD ME…) and maybe a serving of the mac and cheese, with truffles and Sottocenere cheese.

I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get to The Federal, but there’s no doubt in my mind that we’ll be back. And we’re spoiled rotten, living just 15 minutes away. I’d be willing to wager that it’s one of the 413′s top restaurants. If not the best.

Someone at The Citizen in Worcester, MA is clearly a fan of this video…

Tornado damage in Monson, Mass. (BETTINA HANSEN/ HARTFORD COURANT)

“It’ll never happen here,” you think. And then, it does.

Wednesday’s weather warnings for western Massachusetts and northern Connecticut seemed like your average early summer thunderstorm. It’s not uncommon to hear a meteorologist utter, “tornado watch,” but few take it too seriously. After all, this is a population much more familiar with blizzards.

But around 4:30 p.m., the funnel cloud started to form. It rotated ominously over the Connecticut River, sucking up waves of water with it in a scene straight out of a blockbuster movie. And it blew ferociously across a major interstate before tearing through downtown Springfield at peak rush hour, ripping through buildings, crushing homes and sending roofs flying. It obliterated neighborhoods in West Springfield, where two deaths were reported, and decimated the center of small-town Monson.

I was having dinner with my mother in Enfield when the calls and texts started coming in from Hartford Courant colleagues, asking if I was okay. They had to explain what had happened, as the storm hadn’t blown through our area. But we’re just 10 minutes south of downtown. And many of my friends live and work in Springfield proper, as teachers, mental health counselors and social workers. I started texting frantically.

I found out later that these friends couldn’t get home for hours, due to traffic and blocked, impassable streets. Cell phone service was spotty, and people couldn’t reach their spouses and families. One friend loaded an injured coworker into her car, in an attempt to get to the woman’s young son in daycare. Another friend had a gut feeling before the storm hit and fled with her four-year-old to the basement, listening to breaking windows and crashing trees.

And when I heard what time the tornado had blown across Interstate 91, I realized my mother had missed it by about 10 minutes. She’d just happened to get in the car early.

These were the lucky ones. No major damage to their homes; just power outages. But they’re still traumatized, shell-shocked. They saw firsthand how life can change in an instant.

I never thought I’d see a tornado destroy a Northeastern city, though 94 people died in a twister that pummeled my hometown of Worcester in 1953. I certainly didn’t think I’d ever see such familiar neighborhoods and landmarks making international news headlines. And to be honest, I’m feeling guilt – this could have so easily shifted five miles south and slammed into our neighborhood. What would we have done in a situation like this? We don’t have a plan.

I’ll be eternally grateful that the tornado spared my loved ones’ lives and their homes. In the meantime, we’ve been trying to help by welcoming friends here to eat, relax, catch up on news and charge their electronics. “You’re better than FEMA!” they said. “They wouldn’t give out beer.”

I made a personal donation to the Pioneer Valley Red Cross yesterday (link here if you’d like to donate, too.) Here are some other opportunities to give, courtesy of local blogger friends. Alicia of The Clean Plate Club (a Ludlow native) is hosting a “blog bake sale” with all proceeds going to tornado victims. Dave of Dave’s Cupboard, whose daughter’s classmate’s mother died trying to save her younger child, is helping collect donations for the devastated family.

This disaster is sobering proof that weather can strike at any time, anywhere. I’m going to be more mindful of my own safety, for one. And I’m certainly going to hug my family and friends a lot tighter. You should, too.

Tornado coverage from the Hartford Courant
Tornado coverage from MassLive.com

This past weekend, I visited my parents in the Worcester area. We woke up to this on Friday morning:

Six inches of snow on April 1. April effing fool!

But that evening’s dinner took some of the sting out of our “spring” weather. We headed to Sonoma in Princeton, Mass., a beautiful restaurant with inspired global cuisine. It’s a place I’ve been hearing about for years. The menu blew me away – selections that would be at home at a cosmopolitan Boston or New York eatery. While the Worcester area’s upscale dining options have grown by leaps and bounds, it’s still yet not seen as a destination.

Sonoma may just change that. The intimate restaurant projects an atmosphere that’s simultaneously sophisticated and comfortable, where you can wear “dress jeans” while ordering a $190 bottle of Opus One. The waitstaff is warm, friendly, knowledgeable and extremely professional – even when dealing with the likes of the insufferable snob at the table next to us. (If the restaurant isn’t executing their dishes to the standards of what you ate in Paris, then please kindly go back to Paris, d-bag.)

I only have one problem with restaurants like this, and it’s that I want everything on the menu. But by the time we sat down, I wanted beef. The coffee-scented filet mignon was an easy choice.

We started with two appetizers – a lobster and goat cheese puff-pastry tart, accented by caramelized onions, mushrooms, spinach and truffle oil:

You’re right to assume I gave away the mushrooms. But this tart was just spectacular. I expected the puff pastry to be too rich, but it was surprisingly light and complemented the sweet onions, buttery lobster and piquant goat cheese.

This crab and smoked Swiss bisque, topped with a crab fritter and tarragon-infused butter, is the stuff of dreams. Like the tart, it was lighter and less overwhelming than its heavy ingredients would suggest, but simply unbelievable. It’s a good thing Sonoma is a relaxed place, because my dad used dinner roll after dinner roll to mop up every last bit of the soup.

I had the filet in a coffee-herb marinade, topped with a tangy “chimichurri” of what looked like shallots and red bell pepper. The marinade itself was zingy, but without any distinctive java taste. (I think this was a good thing.) My only complaint was that the filet was definitely more medium than medium rare.

My mom’s Colorado lamb chops, coated with dijon mustard, rosemary, garlic and parsley. They were rolled in fresh panko crumbs and served with a roasted shallot demi-glace. Verdict: Tender and delicious, just too small of a portion (certainly for the price.)

Dad kept with the seafood theme, ordering “Haddock Princess” – butter-poached haddock in a bouillabaisse broth, topped with an asparagus-lobster sauce. As you can see, “sauce” translates to “chunks of meat from a one-pound lobster.” Fantastic.

We had two excellent desserts – a layered tiramisu with white and dark chocolate cream and a Boston cream cake with homemade cherry-orange ice cream – but I didn’t snap any pictures. After a while, you just need to sit back and process a beautiful meal.

The one thing Northampton needed was a tapas restaurant.

It was the one gap in the Paradise City’s otherwise robust dining scene, where you can find everything from local grass-fed beef burgers to Tibetan yak and sushi, Thai curries and duck-confit banh mi in between.

Apparently they heard my laments all the way down in New Haven, because the owners of Ibiza Tapas and Wine Bar (with another location in Hamden) decided to bring their delectable small plates over the border. Ibiza Northampton opened at 7 Strong Ave., in the former Smokin Lil’s BBQ space, in early November.

I’d heard good things from credible sources – a local wine guru with a particular passion for Riojas, and a friend’s girlfriend who’s traveled to Spain on many occasions. So we were excited to make the trip on Thanksgiving weekend.

The vibe: As you can see from the picture, it’s dark. Dark, moody and sexy. Dim to the point where it’s hard to see your menu. Which is all well and good if you’re trying to attract a “beautiful-people” crowd, but Northampton’s just not that kind of city. And the angular tables and chairs – meant to convey a modern look – were not so comfortable, and not conducive to a lounge atmosphere. (My all-time favorite tapas restaurant, Bocado in Worcester, does it right with leather banquettes and fancy throw pillows.)

The food: The good news: It’s really excellent. The menu’s organized by hot and cold tapas – modern and traditional – and every dish sounds better than the next. And each tastes even better than it sounds.

We sampled:

Braised short ribs in a caramelized garlic and oatmeal beer sauce with smoked bacon potato purèe

"Paella" with seafood, chorizo, peas and peppers

Green lipped mussels sautéed with white wine, olive oil, garlic, parsley and shallot

Grilled hanger steak with roasted tomato and chimichurri sauce, served over toast

And some other plates I failed to photograph: an assortment of Spanish cheeses with quince paste; codfish croquettes with aioli and duck confit croquettes with couscous salad. Everything was outstanding.

The not-so-good news: The portions are TINY. Even for tapas. If you’re sharing plates among four people, the food goes fast. The “large tapas” plates are more what you’d expect out of a traditional portion, and those are all $9.75 per plate. That adds up quickly. I was really hungry that night and couldn’t get full until I finally broke down and asked for an order of the paella special.

The wine: Oh, we had plenty of that. Between three of us, we downed a bottle of Salvenal Albarino ($28) and Cristalino Brut ($27.)

The wine list is almost entirely Spanish, with white varietals like Viura, Verdejo, Macabeo, Ribeiro and Godello. (And five Albarinos. Yesssss.) The red list is heavy on tempranillo, with Mencia (Bierzo), Monastrell and Grenache for good measure. You’ll find a few assorted bottles from Uruguay, Argentina and Portugal – sauvignon blanc, Malbec and vinho verde, respectively. There’s also bottled beer and a small selection of sherries.

The Connecticut locations have full liquor licenses, so they’re doing margaritas, caipirinhas and martinis. Not sure if Ibiza Northampton will have that capability in the future.

The service: No issues. Our main waitress was prompt, helpful and sweet, if a little unsure of herself. (The restaurant just opened.) Some of our plates arrived within five minutes – and kept on coming.

After dinner, we went to Sierra Grille for drinks and then went back to Ibiza to meet friends who were in the area, having wine after their meal at Eastside Grill. It was then I realized that I’d probably be patronizing Ibiza in the future as a wine bar with great snacks, not as a place to have a filling and satisfying dinner.

But don’t get me wrong. This is still just what Northampton needed, and I’ll be working my way through that excellent Spanish wine list in the months to come.

I’m so happy I could cry. We just received word that one of our favorite restaurants of all time, Pintu’s, has reopened after a May fire.

Sometimes a restaurant just feels like home to you, and we’ve been lucky enough to find that in
Sarabjit “Pintu” Chawla’s phenomenal West Springfield eatery. Beside the cuisine, which is easily the most exquisitely prepared Indian food we’ve ever sampled, the hospitality is top-notch. Not a visit passes without a hug and kiss from the owner himself and friendly service from our favorite waitress, who commits our favorite drinks and dishes to memory – even when we change it up seasonally.

And it’s just in time. Since the fire, we’ve tried to sate our cravings at Indian restaurants from New Haven to Portland, Maine – with varying – yet mostly disappointing – results.

You’d better believe we’ll be there for dinner tonight.

Crostini trio: filet and asiago, shrimp and cannelloni, tomato mozzarella basil

Although I love Restaurant Week promotions, sometimes eateries don’t live up to expectations.

Last year, a group of friends and I made RW reservations at one of Northampton’s most vaunted restaurants, only to receive some of the worst food and service I’ve ever experienced in my lifetime. (We ordered a half-dozen oysters as an add-on, and received five weak, watery specimens – and one empty shell. Our server rolled his eyes as he took back the plate. It all went downhill from there.)

Left scarred by this experience, I was a bit guarded when we made reservations at Spoleto, Northampton’s highly regarded and popular Italian restaurant. But the droolworthy menu won me over. Besides that, I was looking for some wine redemption after the miss at Zen.

Three of us started with the crostini trio: filet mignon with asiago cheese;  grilled shrimp, cannelloni and basil chiffonade; tomato, fresh mozzarella and basil with balsamic. The latter was the best of the three – there wasn’t a ton of recognizable flavor in the shrimp and white bean mixture and the filet, served without any kind of sauce, was a bit dry. (I remedied it with a drizzle of olive oil.) One friend said she wished the bread had been more crusty.

Another friend went with the fried calamari. While was nice and crispy and smelled like fried-food heaven, it was a little bland without its two tomato-based dipping sauces (one much spicier than the other.) I stole a few tentacle pieces for myself.

New York strip a la barolo with steamed veggies and sweet potato gratin

My newly awakened carnivore tendencies led me right to the New York strip, finished with a Barolo demiglace and served with sweet potato gratin and mixed vegetables. I was not disappointed. The steak was sizable, juicy and encrusted with a hint of pepper, and the Barolo sauce, though surprisingly light, had intense flavor. The veggies were steamed to perfection and only improved with a sprinkle of fresh grated cheese.

None of us were blown away by the gratin, though. While it was layered artfully like a napoleon, it was cold and a bit congealed. This suffered most from the inevitable mass-production that goes on during Restaurant Week promotions. Though we’re all familiar with my carb addiction, I would have been much more disappointed by an overdone steak.

To be honest, I was really torn between the NY strip and the seafood fra diavolo, a whole mess of shellfish tossed with squid-ink pasta in a spicy marinara sauce. But that’s why you dine with friends who are willing to share. The jet-black pasta, a little thicker than linguini, was really intriguing. And it was virtually buried by a tidal wave of lobster, mussels, clams, scallops, calamari and shrimp.

Seafood fra diavolo

My friend remarked that it was more like a cioppino than a pasta dish, for its sheer amount of seafood. The marinara was wildly hot, though. “I kept eating because every time I stopped, my mouth burned,” she said.

Dessert was plentiful – and chocolaty. The chocolate lover’s sampler incorporated a huge dark-chocolate dipped strawberry; a flourless chocolate torte (with a strong hint of coffee); light, airy chocolate mousse and a dab of fresh whipped cream. One plate could have fed three of us.

Spoleto has a great wine option – a full liter carafe (6 glasses) for $15 or a half-carafe (3 glasses) for $8. On the night of our visit, the carafe wines were cabernet sauvignon and Chardonnay.

We started by ordering a half-carafe of each, and this is where we ran into our one service snag. We tried to explain to the waiter, as he was pouring, that we wanted to save our red carafe for our steak dinners. Somehow, this annoyed him, and he banged down the carafe and stalked away. It was inexplicable, and unnecessary…

Chocolate lovers' sampler

As the night went on, we ended up ordering two more half-carafes, which brought us to a technical total of two full carafes. Yet we were charged for four half-carafes, amounting to an extra $2. I guess that was a charge for labor?

Spoleto has an ongoing $20 three-course meal promotion, available at both locations: Northampton and East Longmeadow. It’s a good value.

In my opinion, Restaurant Weeks should be an opportunity for restaurants to shine, not to cut corners or make customers feel unwelcome.  I have no doubt that the banquet-style meal planning and extra traffic cause stress for chefs and servers. I’m sympathetic to that, to a point.

But I firmly believe that restaurants can hook potential repeat customers. If you dazzle a Restaurant Week customer with your $20 three-course meal and spectacular service, they’ll consider spending top dollar there for a special occasion in the future. At the very least, they’ll come back during next year’s promotion. My bad RW experience in 2009 has turned me off that particular restaurant for good.

Zen's Pyramid Roll

Restaurant Week promotions are foodie paradise.  Multicourse meals for less than the cost of an entree? Sign me up, several times over.

Northampton held its annual event this past week, and when the menus came out, everything looked incredible. Several of the restaurants stepped up their game, incorporating high-end ingredients like lobster and good cuts of steak with lots of variety, like appetizer and dessert samplers. Remember, all three-course meals cost a mere $20.10.

A friend and I chose Zen for our Wednesday night meal. Zen is one of the top Japanese eateries in the Northampton area, but we almost always pass it over in favor of Osaka’s Japanese-French fusion. But Zen’s promo menu, offering a variety of sashimi, noodles, teriyaki and spring rolls, looked amazing.

We started the meal with two appetizer choices: the rock shrimp and the jalapeno carpaccio. Flash-fried and tossed in a spicy chili sauce with a hint of mayonnaise, the crunchy little shrimp were addictive.

Jalapeno carpaccio

But the winner was the carpaccio: three slim slices of halibut, white tuna and yellowtail bathed in a citrusy yuzu sauce and topped with slivers of jalapeno pepper and a dab of sriracha. The fish was tender, fresh and succulent – I wished it had been an entree in itself.

We both opted for the Pyramid roll, six massive maki pieces overstuffed with rice, spicy tuna/crab/scallop/salmon, avocado and asparagus. It was topped with tempura crunch and a drizzle of syrupy eel sauce.  Lots of exciting flavors here, but I’ve never been a fan of the rolls that require jaw unhinging for consumption. Less is more.

(Side note, I once ate a spider roll in front of my sushi-unaware mother, who suggested I  ‘cut it with a knife and fork’ before eating it. She got the WTF glare.)

Dessert was unremarkable, as it sometimes tends to be at Asian restaurants (and Restaurant Week at that.) The apple-cinnamon spring roll was cold, stale and forgettable, but my dining partner liked her open-faced chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich.

More disappointing was my wine choice, a lukewarm Tukulu Chenin Blanc from South Africa. I tried an excellent Sula Chenin Blanc at our favorite Indian restaurant a few months ago, but apparently not all CBs are created equal.

I’m still thinking about that carpaccio, though. So, successful visit.

On Thursday, we ventured to Spoleto for their Italian-influenced Restaurant Week menu. Stay tuned.

Confession: 2010 is shaping up to be Year of the Pho. I’m having this crazy passionate love affair with Vietnamese food, and I cannot seem to get enough. (Though you’ll notice that I’ve retired “Pho Shizzle” as a tagline. At least for now.)

I’ve seen Yelp haters describe western Massachusetts and north-central Connecticut as culturally bereft. Well…okay. But as ethnic cuisines become more mainstream, even suburban Longmeadow boasts two notable sushi restaurants. And up in Springfield, you can find three Vietnamese eateries within a three-block radius.

A friend and I checked out Vinh Chau in January. Good stuff. And in the interest of trying new things, Rob and I checked out its across-the-street neighbor, Pho Saigon, on Friday night.(Bamboo House, a Vietnamese/Szechuan restaurant, is within shouting distance.)

Of the Springfield trifecta, Pho Saigon has the most traditional “restaurant” atmosphere. It’s warm, inviting and stylish. I was surprised to see a Montepulciano on the otherwise-predictable wine list and had to get myself a glass. Rob enjoyed the #33 Vietnamese beer, which had the weight of a very light beer without sacrificing lots of taste.

Shrimp and chicken spring rolls

Fresh spring rolls are a must for me, and when the plate came to the table, I was happy to see the shrimp nearly bursting out of the rice paper. But the rolls also included unseasoned chicken, and the meat’s blandness dominated the taste. I really liked the tangy peanut dipping sauce, however – love when there’s plenty of crushed peanuts.

But hold on, the appetizer course didn’t end there. We lost our minds over the shrimp on sugarcane skewers. The shrimp was ground, fried and wrapped around short sticks of sweet, fibrous cane. It was hot, juicy and succulent, enhanced even more by our own little blend of sriracha and another condiment that was like a thick soy sauce. (Still learning about all the accoutrements.)

We weren’t feeling particularly daring, nor did it seem like a night for pho. So we both chose bun dishes – mine with grilled shrimp, pork and egg roll, Rob with pork and pork meatballs. Every bowl of bun I’ve ever had has been just that – a large bowl of rice noodles topped with lettuce, sprouts, carrots, herbs and meat. Mine looked legit, even if the meat portions looked a little skimpy.

Shrimp on sugarcane skewers

But Rob’s came on a plate, with a small amount of noodles and an overflowing bowl of pork. I’ve seen him house enough pasta to feed a team of marathon runners, so I knew it wouldn’t be enough for him. It got to the point where we were sharing meat and noodles, trying to shore up each other’s portions.

Verdict on the meats: The grilled pork was tasty, with a good smoky flavor, but unfortunately kind of greasy. The one grilled shrimp in my dish (one!) was just shy of rubbery. But the fried egg roll was spectacular, and the pork meatballs were luscious.

We skipped dessert, though our table was decorated with suggestive pictures of lemon mousse and caramel-topped flan. Excellent marketing strategy, though it didn’t work on us.

The service was very friendly and welcoming – the kind of place where they treat you like a regular from the minute you sit down for your first meal. Also friendly – the bill. We racked up a whopping $42 for our tab of three drinks, two appetizers and two entrees. I still can’t get over how wallet-friendly Vietnamese cuisine can be.

User reviews rave about this restaurant’s pho selections. We’ll be back to try that, for sure, along with Pho Saigon’s house specialties like hot pot and sizzling catfish.

The ultimate German beer paddle

Because nothing says “Happy Birthday” like schnitzel, wurst and big-ass mugs of beer, we took Kat out for an early 29th celebration this past weekend at Munich Haus in Chicopee.

German food lovers in greater Springfield are blessed, having three such restaurants nearby: Student Prince in the city, Hofbrauhaus to the west.

Though I love my ethnic foods, I’m pretty new to the flavors of Germany. I’m guilty of ordering baked stuffed lobster at Hofbrauhaus. (Shut up, that was like, seven years ago, and  I made up for it when we sampled an authentic buffet during our stopover in Frankfurt last fall.)  So when the birthday girl suggested Munich, I was excited to give it another whirl.

Munich Haus does an excellent job setting the scene, with homey decor, live accordian music and waitstaff in traditional garb (dirndl, I think the outfits are called.) The service is friendly and prompt. Before we even sat down, there were three bowls of their homemade potato chips at our table for five, with an accompanying sour cream-based dipping sauce.

The area's most irresistible chips?

(Warning: these chips are stupidly addictive, and I mean that in the best way possible. Save room for the massive entrees.)

The beer list would be daunting for your average brew lover, and even moreso for a novice like me. Thankfully, Munich Haus offers two “beer towers” with six varieties apiece for those who want to sample everything. The first contains two Hacker-Pschorr weisses, a Franziskaner Weisse and three Spatens: Maiboch, Lager and Optimator. They go a little more local with the second tower, offering two Paper City Holyoke brews alongside two German pilsners and lagers. Of course, we got one of each. Surprisingly, I liked the darker varieties better, and ended up really enjoying the Paper City Reilly’s Irish stout. Great caramel and chocolate flavors.

Next came appetizers: German fried baby pickles, fried imported German cheese and then something not fried: a Bavarian pretzel, one of the evening’s specials. The little wedges of cheese were deliciously decadent, mild and gooey

Bavarian pretzel appetizer special

and great with their accompanying kicky honey mustard sauce. But the star of the pre-entree was the big pretzel – soft, warm, stretchy and salt-crusted. It came with more of the zesty honey mustard, but it was even better with its other dip, an herbed sour cream.

Still more food was on its way – I opted for Roquefort dressing with my salad (a $1.85 upcharge) and watched as the waitress prepared it tableside. The bowl of dressing was literally as big as my bowl of salad. The cheese was rich and flavorful, but I wouldn’t order this again – you’d never get your money’s worth unless you truly glopped your greens with dressing.

And then came the main courses. Or should I say, the meat. The birthday girl and Rob each ordered the Bavarian platter, a metal tray full of Pfalzer rostbratwurst, Nuremberg bratwurst, Jaeger schnitzel, sauerbraten and sides of red cabbage, sauerkraut, spaetzle and a potato pancake. Each wurst was juicier and more flavorful than the next, and the potato pancake was crispy and comforting.

Bavarian platter: with lots and lots of MEAT

Another friend opted for the Pfalzer bratwurst by itself, which came with cabbage, sauerkraut and spaetzle, and another opted for Parmigain schnitzel, a sort of ‘Italian fusion’ dish with pasta sauce and provolone cheese. Though it was made with a pork cutlet, everyone teased her about her “chicken parmesan.”

My dish, the Schnitzel Lichtenstein, was topped with Westphalian ham, sliced tomato and melted Emmenthaler cheese. Ironically, it was similar to the Milanesa, my favorite dish at the Argentinean steakhouse Caminito in Northampton. The veal cutlet was rich and meaty, and the strong flavors of the toppings – the cured ham, the fresh tomato and tangy Swiss – rounded out the hearty dish. Two large cutlets were served as an entree portion; one and half my spaetzle came home with me.

And since I’ve made no secret of my love for carbohydrates (the whiter, the better,) let’s talk about the spaetzle. These delicious little bits of egg noodle are totally worth the glycemic index spike, especially when they’re buttered and topped with bread crumbs and herbs. The spaetzle was reminiscent of baked macaroni and cheese, just without the fromage. (Yelp reviewers actually reference a käse spätzle made with cheese and a white sauce that’s no longer on the menu.) I ate several late-night leftover forkfuls after a few cocktails.

Schnitzel Lichtenstein

No dessert for us, though there’s a yummy-looking selection of gourmet cookies, crepes, tortes, cheesecakes and a Bavarian apple strudel on the menu.

Verdict: We’re going back once we’re ready for another hit of meat and carbs. Munich Haus has an attractive outdoor patio, and I envision sitting there on a nice summer night with a big mug of beer, those beautifully crunchy chips and my beloved spaetzle.