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From Momofuku Ssäm to Gramercy, Jared Forman Brings deadhorse hill to Worcester

Jared Forman from deadhorse hill on Main Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)

Let’s just get one thing out of they way first: Jared Forman, chef of the spectacular deadhorse hill in Worcester, is . . . a Mets fan. Diehard. It’s the first thing he talks about when we sit down. And no, it does not soften the blow of this Boston baseball betrayal when he reminds me that Mets pitcher Ron Darling (member of the hated 1986 team and whose autographed picture sits on the wall outside of the restaurant’s kitchen) hails from Millbury.

Suffice it to say, Forman will not have Sox fans at hello. After that? Absolutely.

Locally hot smoked trout. (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
Locally hot smoked trout. (Photograph by Alex Belisle)

 

For one thing, Forman has a deep reverence for the history of Worcester right down to the building his restaurant occupies on Main Street. He is sourcing local ingredients from trout to beans to greens to bread. And the food he makes from those ingredients? His approach is good news for Worcester, even if most people ‘round here don’t like strawberries named Darryl.

Forman does come by the Mets thing honestly. He was born and raised in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn and moved to Queens, home of the Mets, as a teenager. The borough’s international intensity fueled his passion for all things food and he soon decided to pursue a culinary degree at Johnson & Wales. His externship was at one of New York City’s most acclaimed fine dining destinations: Thomas Keller’s Per Se. The résumé is just as impressive from there: Michael White’s Marea, David Chang’s Momofuku Ssäm, and Danny Meyer’s Gramercy Tavern (under Michael Anthony and Nancy Olson).

“I saw fine dining at Per Se. I saw David Chang win a James Beard Rising Star chef award [in 2007] without a Michelin star and without being too fine or too lowbrow, just doing fun shit every day that I got used to,” Forman says. “Only when I went to Gramercy did I learn all the traditional stuff like working with stocks and sauces. I went from the funky to the refined. Kinda cool because I think of a dish differently than someone with a more classical background. I learned this stuff backwards.”

After Gramercy, Forman took his backwards approach to Watertown and joined his Momofuku kitchen mate Tim Maslow in transforming Strip T’s from a tiny sandwich shop into a modern dining destination beyond Boston. They even managed to convert many of the customers who had been eating tuna melts for years and wow them with food they had never tasted before. Thus, when Forman and his business partner, Sean Woods, were ready to open their own place, they did not hesitate to look even further out to Worcester, where Woods lived, for a larger customer base. The success of Strip T’s in blue-collar Watertown gave them reason to be optimistic.

Jared Forman in the kitchen of deadhorse hill on Main Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
Jared Forman in the kitchen of deadhorse hill on Main Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)

“There are hungry people out here who don’t want to and don’t have to commute into Boston for a great meal,” says Forman.

But where to put down their stake? They knew that they didn’t want to follow the crowds. They wanted to be about the future in an area deeply tied to the city’s past, not just the present. “When I said we were going to open in Worcester people said, ‘Shrewsbury Street?’ No, I wanted to be part of a new wave. Not what Worcester was or is but both of them together for the future. I love where are we going and where we were in the golden age.

Some might see Main Street as a disadvantage or a sign of a city past its prime. Not Forman and Woods. “If you look down Main Street from where we are, I feel like I am on one beautiful street in New York. Nothing has changed and anything is possible,” Woods says. “We are tied to the past and then looking past what can be. Look at this building. We ripped down the real horsehair plaster walls to expose the original brick for the first time since it was built. The tin ceiling is 161 years old and gorgeous. This used to be the Bay State Hotel. It was world class. It was the place to be. It was legit. It can be again.”

Forman and Woods built out their vision of old and new themselves, doing much of the work on their own and aspiring to create something casual that showcased their personalities as well as the food and beverages that they want to eat and drink. This means right down to the dishes, which might be a vintage plate from a thrift shop next to a handmade wood bowl from the Berkshires.

“We wanted to create a place we wanted to be in,” says Forman. “That means comfortable and being welcome. We call it ‘modern hospitality.’ That’s something I learned at Gramercy Tavern. They make you feel welcome as soon as you walk in the door. They elevate it so that their service is so proper but at the same time super casual as well. And they do it better than anyone else. That’s why Gramercy is Danny Meyer’s crown jewel.”

Matching Meyer – reigning king of New York City restaurant hospitality – is a tall order but one Forman is dead serious about working hard to achieve: “Across the board in my career, I went into everything thinking I don’t know shit. Sean didn’t think we knew anything about opening a restaurant, because worked in restaurants before. And it’s not about us. I learned at Gramercy that everything that you do on a plate you should think about the customer experience with that plate. I see chefs adding stuff and doing fancy things. But if you can’t eat it without everything on the plate making complete sense then you fail in a hospitality sense. So every time I try and create something, I think about that.”

They also thought about all of that and more when they chose the name, deadhorse hill, which is unexpected and exactly what Forman and Woods wanted. They didn’t want to be a Something “Restaurant” or “Tavern.”

“We wanted to identify ourselves as this is who we are and there is no place like us,” says Forman. So the name reflects their desire to honor history and transform it for the customer. There is also a direct connection to the space: The actual Deadhorse Hill is one of the seven hills of Worcester, named for its ability to kill horses that followed its climb towards Leicester. From 1905 to 1911, it was also the site of a world-class auto race. The Bay State Hotel was the headquarters for the club that ran the race.

And thankfully and delightfully, Forman’s food matches the grand aspirations of the past, the current space, and his culinary experience, but also reflects the broad range of what he and his staff like. So you’ll find Southern Fried Chicken Thighs, Memphis Ribs, and Spaghetti & Meatballs as well as Poached Scottish Salmon served with an Herb Curry and Chanterelles and an Aged Duck Breast with Mustard Spaetzle and Creme Fraiche.

“Everything on the menu is me,” Forman says. “I want to have some approachable things so that people who walk in off the street and are not expecting a restaurant like this are able to eat something.”

Forman also believes that deadhorse hill has the potential to be a high caliber restaurant, but he knows he is catering to an audience with different needs and expectations: “I don’t want to price people out. I don’t want to be so different that customers can’t relate to us. But someone who wants something more adventurous? I want to provide for them too. We have things that are lowbrow, highbrow, and something that will satisfy everyone, but everything has a reason and as much passion behind it as anything else.”

Which means that fried chicken has as much thought behind it as the duck breast. Or consider the Grilled Skirt Steak served with mole (an unsweetened Mexican chocolate sauce) and seared avocado. Most people when they order a strip are not thinking chocolate. Few people when eating avocado even think to sear it. Forman wants you to know both are delicious: “If someone says, ‘I’m a meat and potatoes guy. I just want a steak.’ It’s an awesome option for them and someone who wants to be adventurous. Everyone has had fried sweet potato wedges, but have you had those wedges cooked out in chicken and duck fat and covered in house smoked pastrami and housemade XO sauce? I know that everyone in Worcester’s old guard likes salmon. So we bring in responsibly raised salmon, sous vide it to order, and put an herb curry on it. Now we are appealing to someone who just wants salmon and someone who wants an interesting flavor profile.”

For fun, Forman also deep-fries the salmon head, which sells out every time it’s on the menu. He’s also playing with the menu so don’t expect to find many mainstays. For example, that salmon is evolving into a dish made from local trout hot smoked to order served with the same herbed curry and chanterelles and then triticale berries and green garlic – all local.

“What’s next is tomorrow’s menu,” Forman says. “I want people to walk in and say I had this last time and I was blown away and I can’t wait for the next thing. I want to be there for these people.”

Those people are key. After all, the idea of a refined new restaurant on Main Street – the first of any note since Armsby Abbey opened in 2008 – might have been unpredictable. But the community on Main Street and beyond, including from Armsby and its customers, has been overwhelming supportive: “The Armsby guys and the people at Volturno and BirchTree Bread became our friends. We push each other to be better.”

Forman then smiles and says everything has been way better than they expected: “We get people in here that are excited. We do get people who don’t know what to expect. But we turn those people into regulars. I expected it would take more time but people were really waiting for this.”

Aged Duck Breast with Mustard Spaetzle and Creme Fraiche (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
Aged Duck Breast with Mustard Spaetzle and Creme Fraiche (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
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Chef Michael Dussault Makes His Mark at The International

Michael Dussault at the International in Bolton, MA

15 minutes, 23 seconds. You’ve probably waited longer for coffee at the Dunks drive-thru.

Yet that’s all it took for Michael Dussault to prepare six dishes from his menu at The International in Bolton, where he has been executive chef since early 2015: Cobb Wedge Salad (the love child of the two salads with mini iceberg lettuce, candied pepper bacon, quail eggs, Maytag blue cheese, grilled corn, heirloom tomatoes, and cilantro ranch dressing); Spicy Crab Maki Roll (laced with cream cheese and Sriracha); Yellowfin Tuna Burger (a sushi-grade burger, not a steak, seasoned with scallions, sweet soy, garlic, and ginger); Herb-Crusted Berkshire Pork Chop (with mashed potatoes and bacon-fed Brussels sprouts, topped with Granny Smith apples, and drizzled with a homemade apple-cider demi-glace); Fall-Spiced Pumpkin Scallops (which despite my aversion to the scourge of pumpkin and its spices work perfectly on that bed of Asiago pumpkin risotto dotted with toasted pepitas); and Lobster & Pumpkin Risotto (the knuckles of the beautiful bugs spooned with the same risotto as the scallops into a tiny brown sugar cinnamon roasted pumpkin).

15 minutes and 23 seconds for all that.

Sure, some of the food had been prepped in advance but there’s color in the pans and on the plates, drama in Michael’s efficient movement along the line, and fun in watching him talk through it all as he cooks. Everything is topped, turned, seared, and plated with “lots of love.”

Minutes 1 through 5: Pork chop gets coat of salt, pepper, rosemary, sage, thyme, and “lots of love” and hits the grill. Tuna burger gets that same love, a quick sear, and heads to the oven. Crab Maki, from rolling to wasabi tobiko, takes less than two minutes. Wedge salad, dressed for success takes even less.

Michael Dussault plating a burger at the International in Bolton, MA
Photo by Alex Belisle for Mass Foodies.

As delightful as Michael Dussault’s food is at The International, it is unexpectedly delicious for a golf club and resort well off the beaten path. The setting is attractive inside and out for sure, but you don’t necessarily expect the food to be elevated – you just enjoy the escape and surroundings. I for one hear “resort” and think bad buffets and cheap booze; I hear “golf club” and think of food that hasn’t evolved since Caddyshack. This is decidedly not the case at The International.

“People come in all the time and say I never knew you were here, but they come back for the food. You don’t have to go to Boston for this kind of quality,” Michael says, noting he likes the location: “I love it. I’m from New Hampshire. I grew up in the woods. I’m used to having farms within a couple of miles of where I live and have them be the inspiration for what I’m going to make that day. I’m close with farmers markets and farms right down the street, and I have a nice garden right in front.”

Minutes 6 to 11: Apple cider demi is reduced for the pork chop after it hits the oven. Brussels sprouts get “lots of love” from a bath in bacon fat (which never hurt anything, recent studies be damned). Scallops are seasoned and seared in a super-hot pan and the pumpkin risottos get a shot of fresh chicken stock. A baby pumpkin is warmed, while its lobster partner meets its butter maker.

The fine ingredients are far from how Michael grew up in Nashua, New Hampshire. The child of a single working mom, she taught him the value of working for what you have and appreciating what you got: “I wanted the Air Jordans and to go skiing like my friends. But if I wanted that I had to work for it so at thirteen I started washing dishes in all-girls school. From there it just kinda stuck with me. After five years of working in restaurants, I realized how much I had learned. Cooking became muscle memory and my passion.”

He also learned respect and appreciation for the ingredients and the importance of taste: “I grew up on Jolly Green Giant and Meatloaf Mondays. In restaurants, I realized where food actually came from. How a whole chicken looks. Clams? How do you open and eat them? Killing my first lobster? I never had any of that that growing up. I had hot dogs and hamburgers and Salisbury Steak.”

After serving in the Army National Guard, Michael knew he wanted to be a chef and had the leadership skills to match. He soon found himself back in New Hampshire, winning awards for his cooking, notably at Manhattan on Pearl, which was named the best tapas restaurant in New Hampshire and was also right down the street from where he grew up.

“Coming from very little and being there it really meant a lot to me,” he says.

Lobster & Pumpkin Risotto from The International in Bolton, MA
Photo by Alex Belisle for Mass Foodies.

Minute 11 to 15:23: Bacon, roasted tomatoes, and field greens go into the Brussels sprouts. Mashed potatoes are given a last turn. Lobster gets a hit of Asiago. Scallops chill out in the window so they don’t over cook. Tuna burger gets a thick soy glaze, garlic mayonnaise, avocado purée, micro green salad, cucumbers, radishes, and sesame oil. The pumpkin is filled with lobster and risotto, now dotted with peas and bacon, and the pork chop drizzled with demi.

 Michael allows himself a smile, one last “lots of love,” and a wry note that he “tries to keep it sexy but not too sexy.” Which is how it has to be. After all, The International isn’t some cutting-edge new restaurant in the “Big City.” It has a rich history that dates back to the turn of the 20th Century and has been reimagined under the Weadock family’s ownership since 1999. Michael’s cooking is The International’s latest evolutionary step but he is respectful of tradition.

“People certainly expect a certain kind of comfort food when they come here so we try to keep a happy balance,” he says. “I try and keep my own style but I don’t want it to be dominant. I want to adapt to what the customers want and like and then add my style into that. I’ve been able to put everything I’ve done together here, because you never do just one thing. We can have 400 people at an event in one part of the resort, two barbecues, three snack bars, and a full dining room.”

To accommodate them all, Michael describes what he does as “recreating the classics in my style. It’s fresh. It’s local. It’s familiar. And it’s so exciting.”

15 minutes 24 seconds: We understand what he means.

Attacking everything Michael has prepared, every dish is familiar but with unexpected touches. Shellfish and cheese, not to mention pumpkin and its sweet fall spices? It comes together. Cream cheese is not something you would automatically think of putting in crab Maki but it works. The tuna burger recalls the one that Danny Meyer and Michael Romano made waves with at Union Square Café decades ago yet feels recognizable and fresh. Which is exactly how Michael Dussault knows it needs to be:

“Listen, I know we have to have chicken wings and New England Baked Haddock and they are really good here. Why would I want to take ‘The International’ ice cream dessert with its butterscotch corn flakes off the menu? People don’t come in here and want to be afraid to pronounce the menu. The challenge isn’t to give those customers something unexpected. It’s to elevate what they expect. So cranberry sauce becomes a cranberry gastrique, potatoes au gratin become a pizza. They are going to come in here and have some old favorites and at the same time be a little daring because they feel like the food is so approachable.”

When he wants to try something really new, Michael tests the dish as a special. If it works, it could end up on the menus as they “evolve” through the seasons. But every night, he says, he puts “his heart on a plate. When you’re limping home after a seventeen-hour day to remember that something you created made a customer or client’s night? That’s really it.”