What’s in a name? The name Oleana (or “Oleanna”) refers to a 1850s folk song about an idyllic, 19th century Norwegian immigrant community in Pennsylvania founded by violinist Ole Bull. It failed due to poor planting conditions and other factors – you could think of it as akin to Fruitlands, the doomed experiment by Amos Bronson Alcott (Louisa May’s dad). In the 1950s, Pete Seeger popularized the song, and David Mamet seized on the yin and yang of the utopia and its implosion for the title of his 1992 play about the politics of sex and power in the classroom.
Closer in time and to our stomachs is Ana Sortun’s fine, for-all-occasions eatery not far from Inman Square (where the beloved Daddy-O’s Bohemian Cafe was), a dining destination for nearly 25 years. There’s a reason Oleana is – dare I say it? – a culinary utopia.
In ambiance, Oleana is cozy and intimate with a present, lively dash of din. The bar is spare and utile, the decor devilish and playful, and the patio is one of the best in the city, an urban Shangri-la. (Harvest is the other, but this assessment does not include roof decks, of which there are many fine finds to be had.) Its popularity is a product of the same carefully curated Mediterranean undercurrents as Sortun’s breakfast and lunch spot, Sofia on the Belmont line (and newly opened in Lower Allston) and Sarma (which she helped launch). The three eateries are likely under Michelin-star consideration as a new Boston guide is readied.
Oleana is a perfect small-plate place to explore new sensations. The menu’s laid out with a vegetable meze section, which include standouts of Mushroom Köfte (yes, like the Turkish meatball on a skewer), Topik (stuffed potato hummus) and a zucchini borek (its cousin at Sofra always dazzles) as well as listings for meat and fish. There’s a half lemon chicken under the meat heading, but everything else is small and shareable, with a leaning toward kebabs – or “shish,” as the menu affectionately tags them.
My most recent sojourn to Oleana was an all skewer/kebab affair. The shrimp shish – which came on a wooden spit – was a perfectly grilled skewer of charred prawns atop rice pilaf accented with spicy feta and garnished with a crown of pickled onions. These shrimp were succulent, juicy with flavorful accents of Middle Eastern spice, and the pilaf was moist, rich and fluffy. The Vermont Quail Kebab came up like sushi, the pressed boneless meat cubes, well spiced and glazed, topped with crushed pistachios and barberries over neatly formed rice pedestals and savory with a tang of gamey goodness. There’s a lamb shish and a lamb and tomato moussaka as well. The others from the sea that intrigue are the fried mussels and Swordfish Chraimeh, a spicy preparation of the oily broadbill served with couscous, bean salad and green olives.
For dessert, Oleana is renowned for its baked Alaska. The milk dumplings and Ekmek Kataifi vanilla pudding dish drew my attention, but I went with the signature sweet with no regrets. If you peer into the open kitchen window, which you can from the bar and nearest dining tables, you can watch the preparation of the baked Alaska as the pastry chef torches and fans, then retorches the tall, beehive twist of delicate meringue drizzled with passion fruit caramel and encasing a ball of dense coconut ice cream atop an even denser coconut macaroon. It’s lighter than what your eyes drink in, and easy enough for one to tackle solo and guilt free – I’d share only if that vanilla pudding or Turkish-style profiteroles were in play. It’s a great, sweet way to cap a sojourn of expertly done familiar flavors in new contexts.
Oleana bills its experience as “small plates with big flavors,” which isn’t a boast, it’s fact. Oleana is – dare I say it? – a culinary utopia.
Oleana, 134 Hampshire St., The Port, Cambridge
Cambridge writer Tom Meek’s reviews, essays, short stories and articles have appeared in WBUR’s The ARTery, The Boston Phoenix, The Boston Globe, The Rumpus, The Charleston City Paper and SLAB literary journal. Tom is also a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics and rides his bike everywhere.
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