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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 Arrastia Takes Risks To Be Great In Making Bacon Taste New England

Chef Michael Arrastia preparing bacon at Hangover Pub on Green Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
Chef Michael Arrastia paying his respect to the bacon at Hangover Pub on Green Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
Chef Michael Arrastia paying his respect to the bacon at Hangover Pub on Green Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)

Kissing the Blarney Stone gives you the gift of gab. Kissing the Godfather’s ring shows respect. Kissing the feet of Jesus is an act of adoration. Kissing a slab of bacon? That’s the trifecta: eloquence, deference, and reverence – and damned sexy. No one in the City of Worcester knows this better than Chef Michael Arrastia, full-time master and sometime canoodler of porcine excellence at The Hangover Pub, the temple to the bacon gods on Green Street.

Arrastia’s deific tribute is ours to savor. In his hands, it has never been clearer that bacon truly makes everything better as it imparts flavor to pretty much all of his menu. Porchetta, fried chicken po’ boy, clam chowder. kimchi, Brussels sprouts, lobster roll, donuts… Arrastia’s house-made bacon touches them all in different ways. But scoff that this is a gimmick at your culinary peril. There is some serious high-level shit going down here both strong and subtle. Sure, the moment you savor a thick slice its sweet, salty, smoky flavor hits you hard. But consider then the local oysters. The texture of the meat would be strange to pair with bacon proper so Arrastia created bacon mignonette foam from the rendered bacon fat. The fat makes the bubbles in the foam stay together.

“You don’t want bacon on there. That doesn’t make any sense,” Arrastia says. “Local oysters are delicate, the bubbles are delicate, so I had to make the bacon delicate. I can be a ballerina and a linebacker.” And whether he is being Baryshnikov or Bruschi, Arrastia will be doubling down on the bacon – “Anything that I haven’t done, that’s what I want to do – focused even more on bacon but doing it artfully.”

That bacon fat also finds its way into the fresh steamed buns Arrastia uses in his braised pork belly bahn mi, which features slow braised pork belly, pickled vegetables, jalapeño, and country style pork pate that adds some deli meat flair. The idea was inspired by something Arrastia saw one of his culinary heroes, David Chang of Momofuku fame, do. He decided to replace the original pork belly sandwich on the menu just two months into the restaurant’s run. Not that the previous sandwich wasn’t amazing but as Arrastia says, “I have the freedom to do whatever the hell I want and I am going to do what I want to do. No more coloring in the lines.”

Bacon is the focus at Hangover Pub on Green Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
Bacon is the focus at Hangover Pub on Green Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)

He’s certainly earned the right to do so. As we speak, Arrastia gestures to Jay Grey, the owner. “If you look at Jay, you can see that on his arm is a tattoo that says, ‘Jump.’ That’s me. I’m a huge risk taker. I came from nothing. We didn’t have much of anything when I was a kid. When I started to take cooking seriously and my son was born I started looking around the restaurant and asking myself, ‘How much does that guy make – that guy standing over there doing nothing while I am making $29,000 a year as a line cook? So, I started playing a game of chess and tried to be in the right position to do the right things, please the right people, and cook the right dishes at the right time. My only goal was to do more than the people working next to me.”

Arrastia soon made it up the line to sous chef in restaurants, including Rovezzi’s in Sturbridge, but the top job remained out of reach.

“I applied all around Worcester. My whole family thought it was ridiculous that I only applied for chef jobs. They told me to go out and get another sous chef job and work my way up. But I just wasn’t going to do that and finally have the opportunity to be the chef when I turned 70 only to watch some kid hired out of culinary school take my opportunity. I didn’t go to culinary school. All I have and can sell is myself.”

Finally, Allora in Marlborough gave him a shot, which is where Arrastia first started curing pork, which satisfied his half-Italian side (Arrastia is also half Puerto Rican). “I’ve been doing braised pork since I was five,” he says. “Where I’m from there is always a pork shoulder being cooked off and a pork roast in the summer. That’s what you do.” At Allora, he initially did salami, pancetta, and his own sausages. Then he decided to take one of the bellies he had been braising and make bacon out of it. He did that a few times but only enough to send out on a burger.

SOUS VIDE CHICKEN AND WAFFLES from Hangover Pub on Green Street in Worcester, MA
SOUS VIDE CHICKEN AND WAFFLES: Bourbon bacon maple reduction, caramelized onion waffle

While he was at Allora, Arrastia met Jay, who was looking to get out of his job and open a restaurant. They talked about the food they loved and what Arrastia wanted to do. Ultimately, they settled on the bacon idea but most importantly agreed to be themselves every step of the way in creating Hangover. Their fidelity to self and bacon and indeed that of all the partners’ was sealed in ink: a skull and crossbones tattoo of a sunny-side up egg skull and a cross of bacon they all have on their arms.

“Before I met Jay, I knew I could do all the stuff I am doing now, but I needed someone to let me out of the box,” Arrastia says. “I was about to mortgage my house, move to Portland or wherever I had to open a restaurant and show the world what I can do. I don’t come from much. I wanted my kids to see me do something and be great now. Here I have partners and a place to help me do that. I wake up in the morning and even if I have worked seven days in a row or something terrible happened the night before I wake up and the fact that I get to drive to this building every day re-energizes me and I’m ready to go.”

That is if he doesn’t get pulled over along the way. Hangover buys its fresh pork belly locally and Arrastia will often drive and pick up 300 to 500 pounds – even 1,000 pounds – at a time. Tied and packaged up in white paper, the bellies look like bricks of cocaine. “Loading up the car,” Arrastia says, “it literally looks like we’re drivers for a drug cartel just waiting to get pulled over.” Which has happened.

But the curing process for those beautiful bellies once they get to the restaurant is no joke: A tiered system that takes about eight days and includes seven days curing to dry the meat and a five-hour rotation in the smoker, the last with no heat, just the perfume of apple wood. When Arrastia says he has tried to make sure every detail is just right he is beyond serious. He may be a linebacker in the kitchen but hearing the process and how it came to be is a whole other ballgame: the Moneyball of bacon.

“I spent six months in this room by myself or with Jay and a few others thinking about how to take over the world and I kept asking how am I going to make this bacon?” Arrastia says. “I would try it different ways and think I had it and say, ‘Guys, this is the day!’ And then we’d all say, ‘I don’t know’ and I’d start over.”

Wagyu Burger from Hangover Pub in Worcester, MA
Wagyu Burger from Hangover Pub in Worcester, MA

Arrastia laughs as he recalls fights they had over letting the perfect get in the way of the good: “What you want me to do?! You want me to compromise?” he would yell at Grey. “There’s got to be a middle ground!” Grey would reply. But there wasn’t for Arrastia. It’s just how he is built: all heart – he needs to love what he does. He may be willing to take risks (he made ginger bacon donuts for a packed Flying Dreams Brewing dinner even though he never made them before) but not with the ingredient that defines the restaurant and his culinary identity at the moment. So, he kept at it. He played with toasted fennel, coriander, and cracked pepper, creating artisan bacon crusts. Finally, he stopped and did a 180: “I said, ‘Here’s what we are going to do: We are going to make a perfect basic bacon with New England good flavor to it. That’s it. No curing salt, nothing’ And Jay said, ‘Show me.’ When it was done he agreed it was it: The apple wood smoke, good local maple syrup, sea salt, coarse ground pepper. It can be a vehicle for anything. We can go regional American, Korean, French, Spanish… really it can run the gamut.”

And it will. So will Arrastia and Hangover. Because “Jump” doesn’t just apply to a few dishes – it applies to the entire restaurant. Starting in July and then hopefully every first of the month after that, Arrastia will flip the menu to a specific cuisine – Italian, Spanish, Mexican – for a single day along with entire restaurant: the paint and photos on the wall, the music – everything. They are calling it “Chameleon Day” – named for the lizard that can change colors without changing what it is. Get the metaphor? He and Grey have more big things planned to take over the world starting this fall.

But for now, the focus is Worcester and the Canal District community they are a part of as they make Hangover more than just a place to eat but a place to feel good and have fun: “This area. Worcester. We came together. There is a reason it is all happening now. I go to Lock 50 and have a Nitro coffee or over to BirchTree for some bread. These guys are all like us – they are taking risks and chances and owning who they are. There is an authentic identity and it comes from the kitchen out.”