If you have any Canadians in your life: thank them.
For poutine. For Aykroyd. For the ability to wear all denim with pride.
But especially for Earls Kitchen + Bar, a sprawling Canadian powerhouse for pork buns in baskets and cocktails in teapots, opening Friday at Assembly Row.
This is a gift from our neighbors to the north. Canada, not New Hampshire. And it’s huge—8,800-square-feet-of-white-tile-walls-and-black-leather-booths huge. (Check out the slideshow here.)
You can think of a few ways to use all that space. Perhaps...
As a source of post-work replenishment.
The kind that requires BBQ pork buns in bamboo baskets (see the menu here) and a whiskey-and-port concoction called Cabin Fever. It’s garnished with a pinecone. Don’t eat that.
As a game-day stronghold.
Make for the second of its two bars. The wraparound one with eight flat-screens. That’s where you’ll find the Mad Hatter with vodka, brandy and black tea served in a polka-dot teapot. Please keep the number of “tea time” jokes to zero.
For that crucial third date.
When only a cozy open-kitchen-adjacent booth and some cioppino with a half chili-roasted lobster will do.
And not a single Rob Ford joke was made.
For poutine. For Aykroyd. For the ability to wear all denim with pride.
But especially for Earls Kitchen + Bar, a sprawling Canadian powerhouse for pork buns in baskets and cocktails in teapots, opening Friday at Assembly Row.
This is a gift from our neighbors to the north. Canada, not New Hampshire. And it’s huge—8,800-square-feet-of-white-tile-walls-and-black-leather-booths huge. (Check out the slideshow here.)
You can think of a few ways to use all that space. Perhaps...
As a source of post-work replenishment.
The kind that requires BBQ pork buns in bamboo baskets (see the menu here) and a whiskey-and-port concoction called Cabin Fever. It’s garnished with a pinecone. Don’t eat that.
As a game-day stronghold.
Make for the second of its two bars. The wraparound one with eight flat-screens. That’s where you’ll find the Mad Hatter with vodka, brandy and black tea served in a polka-dot teapot. Please keep the number of “tea time” jokes to zero.
For that crucial third date.
When only a cozy open-kitchen-adjacent booth and some cioppino with a half chili-roasted lobster will do.
And not a single Rob Ford joke was made.
