New in Boston: M3

M3, davis square

Meat n’ three. Meat and three sides. Emphasis on the meat. That’s the inspiration behind M3, Jason Owens’ (Local 149) casual new Southern-style restaurant right on Highland Ave. in Davis Square. Meat n’ three. Two little content words somehow have the power to incite so much fear. It’s not that I don’t eat meat. I love (good) barbeque and the long, charred kabab skewers that I grew up with. I love spending a winter evening in, softly singing to a slowly simmering braise or a summer one grilling a chicken over a charcoal flame. I classify my dishes by protein. But I’ll admit that the idea of eating large quantities of meat at every course of a meal — apps, snacks, mains — is a tad overwhelming.

Comforting, though, was the adorable space; it was playfully kitschy without being corny (think hanging ball jar lights; chalkboard tables and walls and, um, bathrooms; and a decorative, blue tin ceiling). To avoid an hour wait, our party of four sat at the diner-style counter, something I would recommend but only to twosomes in the future. Sitting so close to the open kitchen, though, I was ready to take on my meat. I was fearless.

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Seashore Supper 2 for 1

seared scallops and brown butter sauce, two ways


The first time I had fried New England seafood, I was probably around five. It was at Ronnie’s, a little shack of a restaurant with a neighboring ice cream shop in Auburn, MA. Auburn is one those Central Mass towns you drive through wondering if you’re watching the world pass through the Instagram “1977” filter. Let me tell you a little bit about it: there’s a shopping mall, an envelope factory, and a semi-famous nut company, just to keep things interesting. Surprisingly, there is no Walmart. It’s also the town where my mother spent many of her years growing up and where my maternal grandparents still reside. It’s very much landlocked. It screams $0.99 deal at the local Arby’s on Southbridge Street, not fresh seafood.

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Rhubarb to the Rescue

honey-cardamom panna cotta with roasted rhubarb

I don’t think I’ve been bored since around 1996. Physically bored, that is. I don’t understand the idea of having nothing with which to fill time. Jaded, I get. Monotony, sure. Ennui, mais oui. I may not always enjoy or find meaning in what I’m doing. But, on the off chance that my to-do list is completely stained with the harsh boldness of my pen’s horizontal slashes, I can always find something to keep my mind turning. I guess this is a curse for many — the unfortunate result of a hyper-connected age. For me, it’s a lifeline. It’s not that I don’t appreciate calm or silence. I do! Man, do I ever, sometimes. But I’ve always been afraid of extended periods of nothingness, of white noise.

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