Kick the Colonel's Ass...

I have held, for some time now, the idea that Boston is one amazing dining city. For such a geographically small town, we really have some outstanding, "world class" (whatever the hell that means) eats. Particularly after my forays into "fine dining" at every level when I was living elsewhere last year, from apple pie to yogurt to salad to heights of gourmet molecular gastronomy, I appreciate that Boston has really come to offer a stunning array of tasty snacks.

At the top of them all, in all my tries and shared meals and bottles of wine in this city, my absolute favorite has been one singular restaurant: Clio.

Clio is rockin'.

Why so I mention this?
1) I had alluded to it before.
2) I have something new and interesting to share about it.
3) I am going there for dinner (about which I will tell you) tomorrow night.

I will take mental notes and share the deets of tomorrow's dinner then.
In the meantime, perhaps you might like to join me next sunday?

You can buy me a bottle and raise a glass in my general direction for my telling you #2 above:

Fried. Chicken. At Clio. for 35 Buckeroos.
Screw you, Colonel Sanders, 'cuz weezz cun getch real chickie, chickie!

hawwww-yeah!

Check THIS out. HOLY COW. I am definitely going and you should, too.
The high cuisine of Ken Oringer goes comfort-food-recession-chic? This is clearly a must-eat.

more to follow.