Commonwealth:
noun \-ˌwelth also -ˌweltth\: a group of countries or states that have political or economic connections with one another.
Funny, we just thought it was somewhere you could buy groceries while also hosting a private dinner party and drinking gin cocktails.
Or maybe that’s just this Commonwealth, a cavernous new restaurant-cum-food-market-cum-cocktail-bar stocked with lamb steaks and porchetta for the road, opening Tuesday in Kendall Square.
So it’s huge in here. Should be. Has to be. Happy hour and dinner and your grocery list are on the line. You’ve got your warehouse things like exposed brick walls and nine-foot-high steel doors. Your non-warehouse things like a copper raw bar and a 25-seat private dining room.
As for how your dinner works: pick an entrée like a whole black bass for you and some sides like sugar pumpkin or duck-fat fries served family-style for the table. Then eat stuff and do the whole “Somebody get a wheelbarrow” thing. Then somebody orders donut holes with homemade fluff. Then you’re good again.
Oh, and don’t forget there’s an entire other side to this place. A market side where you can pick up a roast porchetta for four as you make your exit.
Beats “leaving” every time.
noun \-ˌwelth also -ˌweltth\: a group of countries or states that have political or economic connections with one another.
Funny, we just thought it was somewhere you could buy groceries while also hosting a private dinner party and drinking gin cocktails.
Or maybe that’s just this Commonwealth, a cavernous new restaurant-cum-food-market-cum-cocktail-bar stocked with lamb steaks and porchetta for the road, opening Tuesday in Kendall Square.
So it’s huge in here. Should be. Has to be. Happy hour and dinner and your grocery list are on the line. You’ve got your warehouse things like exposed brick walls and nine-foot-high steel doors. Your non-warehouse things like a copper raw bar and a 25-seat private dining room.
As for how your dinner works: pick an entrée like a whole black bass for you and some sides like sugar pumpkin or duck-fat fries served family-style for the table. Then eat stuff and do the whole “Somebody get a wheelbarrow” thing. Then somebody orders donut holes with homemade fluff. Then you’re good again.
Oh, and don’t forget there’s an entire other side to this place. A market side where you can pick up a roast porchetta for four as you make your exit.
Beats “leaving” every time.
