It was late February,
2004, and the anticipation around Boston’s historic Kenmore
Square was palpable. With Fenway Park virtually down the block,
the anticipated kick-off of spring training and the spirited
rivalry between the Red Sox and Yankees at fever pitch as a
result of the Yanks’ recent surprise signing of A-Rod, Bosox
baseball was topic number one. In a few months, the DNC would be
convening in Boston where presumably Bay State’s favorite son
John Kerry would be the party’s nominee. And in May, the long
awaited, official and grand opening of the Hotel Commonwealth
would take place symbolizing the restoration of the Kenmore
Square-Back Bay environs to the stately elegance of their
Boston-Brahman past. By then, the T-stop, presently across the
street, will have been moved beneath the hotel, the sidewalk
will be broadened, and a promenade along the Commonwealth Avenue
façade will front a row of upscale specialty shops.
Unofficially opened
since May of ’03, the Hotel Commonwealth has already been named
one of the best new business hotels by Forbes magazine and
included in the ranks of the exclusive Small Luxury Hotels of
the World (the sole New England property in the collection).
Sitting flat on Commonwealth Avenue, around the corner from Fenway Park and a few blocks east of Boston University, the
150-room property that rose up on the site of a former IHOP is
state-of-the-art-modern down to its digital cable and DVD
lending library, its wireless access and high-speed Internet
connections. Yet with architecture that suggests something of
French Second Empire, mansard roofs topped with rectangular
chimneys, and bow windows culminating in ornate turrets, the
hotel looks more old- than new-Boston and pairs comfortably with
its 19th century neighbor, the Kenmore Association building,
across the way.
 |
The vivid eclectic
interior of the Commonwealth reveals itself gradually. You enter
a vestibule facing a small stairway carpeted in a scarlet and
ocher fleur de lys pattern that stops at a landing. It is only
after you’ve climbed the stairs and turned at the landing that
the space opens up into a lovely large salon. The dark woods and
vibrant reds, the elaborate plasterwork ceiling and detailed
moldings are reminiscent of late 19th early 20th century
American decor. Tall velvet chairs in a shade of deep ruby and
elaborately framed mirrors evoke Italian Renaissance design
while an exotic armless and backless settee and a pair of torchères on either side of the window bespeak Art
Nouveau.
|
Deluxe guest rooms are
a fusion of the traditional and contemporary. High-tech
computing and communications features co-exist with moiré
covered walls, Frette bed linens, antique-styled commodious
writing desks, and distinctive decorative touches like a
glass-paned door with an opulent marble bathroom on the other
side. In the early hours of the morning, one of us got up to
look out the window onto a deserted Commonwealth Avenue lit by
streetlamps. Occasionally a car drove up from Beacon Street to
where it converges with Commonwealth Avenue. It seemed a scene
out of an Edward Hopper painting.
|
Tradition fuses with contemporary
in Commonwealth guest rooms |
Some overlook Fenway |
Not much later, a knock on the
door announced the delivery of breakfast -- precisely at the
requested, if ungodly, hour of 5 A.M. Soon after, the bellman
arrived to take our bags. By the time we were ready to leave,
they had been neatly stowed in the van waiting outside the hotel
entrance waiting to take us to the airport. The fluid
arrangement of this early morning departure was typical of the
exemplary service experienced at the Commonwealth.
|
The Commonwealth’s garrulous and
hearty GM: Tim Kirwan |
The engaging staff’s
efficiency was matched by its warmth and friendliness -- a
reflection, in all likelihood, of the example set by general
manager Tim Kirwan whom we had met for drinks the night before
in Great Bay, the swanky seafood restaurant that anchors the
east end of the hotel. Garrulous and hearty, anticipating what
will be his seventh hotel opening come May, Tim is an
enthusiastic promoter of the city as much as the hotel.
“We’ve not only built a hotel, we’re renovating Kenmore
Square,” he said in a booming voice that rose up over the
tumult of the crowded dining room. “And by doing that, we’ll
be re-connecting the ‘Emerald Necklace,’ Frederick Law Olmsted’s vision
for Boston.”
|
As he had with Central Park in
New York, the great landscape architect designed a pattern of
greenery that would run through the heart of Boston, Tim
explained. Only instead of a huge park in the center of the
city, this would be a chain of small parks that began at Boston
Gardens, linked up with Boston Commons, and continued all the
way up Commonwealth Avenue to the Fens and the Museum of Fine
Arts.
“But in the 1950’s, there was a
kind of disconnect,” he said. “City planners were less concerned
with parks than the need to move traffic. All these highways
were built, and at Massachusetts Avenue, the chain was broken by
a highway overpass.”
We’d noticed it, a block from the
hotel, one of those massive expressways that came up during the
post-war decades and cut right through the soul of many an urban
neighborhood. A consequence of this particular stretch of
highway was the deterioration of Kenmore Square. From a
dignified west Back Bay neighborhood, it declined into a dingy
and underdeveloped section of town. But the presence of the
Hotel Commonwealth has spearheaded revitalization.
“Kenmore Square is our primary
boulevard,” Tim noted. “We’ve put in all new streetlamps and
crosswalks. We planted 87 new trees, a new strain resistant to
Elm tree disease. I had them all lit up for the hotel’s
pre-opening last May and then decided to keep them lit.”
Some were visible through the
restaurant windows. Garlanded with lights, they created an
enchanting perspective down Commonwealth Avenue.
“And our designer has continued
the theme by creating a miniature emerald necklace throughout
the hotel,” he added. “A lot of Bostonians would never know
this. It’s very subtle. But when you come into the lower lobby,
there’s one look, a sense of eclectic modernism. When you come
to the upstairs lobby, there’s a different, more traditional,
look. When you transition from there up the grand stairs to the
public spaces, a third look and from there up to the guest
rooms, a fourth look. The Boston Garden and the Boston Common
each had its own integrity, but they were tied together. The
hotel has these four different design experiences but they are
all connected in a kind of an interior version of the ‘Emerald
Necklace.’”
And where does Tim see
the Commonwealth in terms of all the activity that will be
swirling around Boston in the coming months, we wondered. “At
the hub of four to five roads; we’re right in the middle of it,”
he said. “Our owners are very involved in the Democratic Party.
We’ll be housing the Virginia delegation during the DNC; the
governor will be in our presidential suite. Prior to that, we
have Opening Day at Fenway, and we are along the route of the
Boston Marathon, one mile from the finish line.”
Which puts Great Bay in
the middle of everything as well. Part of and apart from the
Commonwealth, this singular seafood sensation is attached to and
can be accessed from the hotel. But it has its own entrance on
Commonwealth Avenue, is independently owned by chef Michael Schlow and Christopher Myers (their other restaurants Radius and
Via Matta are among Beantown’s premier dining rooms, according
to our Boston cousins who were joining us for dinner), and is a
destination as much as a hotel restaurant. The space is huge and
vaulted like a grand ballroom. But the atmosphere is relaxed and
bustling -- especially around the huge raw bar. It has a
sportman’s feel – to be expected with Fenway a block away. But
beyond baseball fans, concert-goers at nearby Symphony Hall, the
extended B.U. family, and indeed -- as word has gotten out --
the larger Boston community are coming to define Great Bay as
the place for great seafood.
This is not an intimate
or clubby dining room. There are no booths or paneled walls.
The interior is clean, sophisticated, and just a bit theatrical.
Red-tinted glass tables are trimmed in steel. A long wall of
floor-to-ceiling (and this is one high ceiling) windows are
draped with some gauzy fabric and hit by amber spots. One of us
saw in it the sweep of sails; another outlines of starfish and
sea anemones. A series of irregularly hung stainless steel
pin-point lights with little orange hoods suspended over the
backlit bar looked to us like an Alexander Calder mobile. But
according to Didi Lutz, the Commonwealth’s director of public
relations, they represent the skeletal structure of a huge fish.
The kitchen, half a floor up and invisible behind the soaring
rear wall, is accessed by a very visible stairway that lithe and
sure-footed servers ascend and descend. This unique setup had
been mandated by executive chef Jeremy Sewall – “for dramatic
impact,” he told us.
Jeremy, who has to be years older
than he looks (“It’s not the age; it’s the mileage,” he
insists), comes from York, Maine, and several times a week, he
travels up to his seacoast home town to visit his grandmother
and purchase fish for Great Bay. Long ago, he decided working in
a kitchen was much easier than working on a boat with his
lobster-fisherman grandfather. He headed off to the Culinary
Institute of Hyde Park and distinguished himself at important
London and San Francisco eateries before taking over the helm at
Great Bay.
|
Creative executive chef Jeremy Sewall – he knows his fish |
“But all my family still live up
in York,” Jeremy said. “My cousins are third generation lobster
farmers. This time of the year they are trapping live Maine
shrimp which have a very short season before heading south.
We’re also getting lobster, crab. . .” Here he paused, and added
with a modest smile, “I know my fish.”
Indeed. And how to
prepare them with new takes on standards, striking Asian
touches, and unexpected pairings all of which delighted our
group. Miniature ceviches of lobster and bay scallops, very
rare, cured with acid and lemon juice were refreshed and
sweetened by black grapes (!) and presented on a lovely
miniature scallop shell atop a fish-shaped glass plate.
|
Distinctly flavorful tuna tartare held together by sesame oil
and sesame seeds was enhanced by soy sauce, lime juice, and
cucumbers. Miniature shrimp of the kind currently running were
quickly fried in a Japanese spice and served with blood oranges
to complement the natural sweetness of the shrimp.
Two in our group ordered pasta --
which, of course everyone had to sample -- thyme-flavored
ravioli filled with chestnut purée and scallops, and gnocchi
with lobster and savory black trumpet mushrooms. And then there
was the clam chowder, destined to become a Great Bay signature
(if it is not already). An ample bowl with pieces of assorted
clams, cubes of potatoes and celery, slices of onions and
parsley root at its base had been set before each diner. A
steaming broth was then poured from a small kettle over the
mixture releasing an irresistible aroma. Inexplicably light and
at the same time creamy, it combined with the ingredients and
herbs to make for one terrific bowl of soup.
Why the pouring routine, we asked
Jeremy. “We don’t want to risk spilling the bowls of soup as we
carry them downstairs,” he joked.
 |
If the clam chowder was
one new take on a seafood classic, the baked stuffed lobster is
another. It is deliciously decadent, made with cream and butter
with a stuffing of herbed brioche and sourdough bread, and
accompanied by haricots verts, onions and carrots. Since the
clam chowder was light on the cream, we felt we could indulge
with the lobster, although after the many courses we’d already
consumed, each of us had decided on having a claw in lieu of the
standard two-pound portion. |
“I grew up at the mouth of the
Merrimac River where Massachusetts meets New Hampshire,” said
Christopher Myer who had stopped by our table. “My family had
twelve lobster traps so I have eaten a lot of lobster in my day.
And I can honestly say this is the best lobster dish I’ve ever
had.” Christopher might be just a little bit biased – it is his
restaurant after all. But we were not, and we concurred.
|
Christopher Myer, Great Bay’s
co-owner |
Before concluding with a dessert of
passion fruit sorbet and a platter of pastries, we met
restaurant manager Stuart Horwitz who had come to Great Bay
from L.A. along with a group of friends and co-workers in
January 2003. “The restaurant was supposed to open the next
month, but as things turned out, we didn’t open until May,” he
told us. “However, for those four months, we were paid exactly
what we would have been paid had we been working,” he told us.
|
Such treatment undoubtedly
inspires a sense commitment in a staff. Certainly everyone we
met at Great Bay conveyed as much, and it translated into
service that was attentive, professional, and enthusiastic. All
seemed to share Jeremy’s credo: “I have a lot of passion for
this work.”
Hotel Commonwealth
500 Commonwealth Avenue
Boston MA 02215
Phone: 617-933-5000
Web: http://www.hotelcommonwealth.com
Great Bay Restaurant
500 Commonwealth Avenue
Boston, MA 02215
Phone: 617-532-5300
