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"Dishing Up Vermont" by New Bedford-raised Tracey Medeiros, showcases the Green Mountain State's provender and stories of its farmers, food producers and chefs.

TABLE BROTH: The wagyu beef, boneless short-rib, and Seafood Supreme are cooked to order.

Plus, I’ve finally mastered the eating and cooking techniques involved. The secret is that the broth at the end is superb, so you want to use the protein and vegetables from the entrées as appetizers, then sate yourself with the soup mixture from the boiling water. Before I learned this trick, I would leave the broth bubbling away on the table cooker. Now I ask for a container to take it home.

With its second location — the first is in Chinatown — Shabu-Zen has refined the process with ceramic heating elements (no fumes) at each table, and added choices in the protein area. Its food selection and presentation is still a bit behind the Chinatown Kaze, but there is much to enjoy here, and this huge space fills up with Asian families even on a weeknight.

If you want formal appetizers, there are dozens, and some are choice and well-priced. Light eaters could skip shabu-shabu altogether. Seaweed salad ($2.50), for instance, is sesame-rich and delicious, as well as healthful. Sautéed baby clams ($6.50) are a wonderful plateful of small calico clams in a gravy-like sauce with some meaty and spicy elements. Baby octopus ($3.95) in a light tomato marinade is tasty. As are “Berkshire sausages” ($5), presumably made from the heritage Berkshire swine. These are four scrumptious breakfast links on a leaf of Napa cabbage, served with mustard.

You could also have a bit of sashimi, but the hamachi (yellowtail) ($6) was served barely thawed. The effect of the cold hamachi was that its fat content registered as a waxy texture. I suspect much of the food here is partially frozen to make easier and neater slices. Indeed, cubes of soft tofu came to the table frozen, and had to be cooked in the soup.

To start, then, with the draught brews (of which there are 36, along with more than 100 bottles), we tried Affligem Blond ($7), which is actually an amber Belgian ale. I think it’s supposed to be served a little warmer, but it was clean, with the wine-y and unusual flavors of the Belgian style. At seven percent alcohol, it creeps up on you. For the true blond (if somewhat cloudy) pour, I preferred Unibroue Éphémère, a “white ale” brewed with some boiled apple juice. By keeping the alcohol down to 5.5 percent, this Quebec microbrewery gets a cider aroma and flavor, warming to pear and spice.

There are really only two appetizers: Monk’s Frites ($6) and moules frites ($7/appetizer; $14/dinner). These are made with hand-cut Yukon Gold potatoes and served in a paper cone, as they would be in Belgium, with various dips. Some fries are crisp, some are not, and all have wonderful potato flavor. The smaller portion served with the mussels is served in a drinking cone. The mussels are leaner than their shells would imply, which is the norm for the season. There is a choice of five different “pots” for the mussels; we had pot Number 2, based on Affligem Blond, Asiago cheese, tomatoes, spinach, and garlic. We were licking the shells to get all the cheese, then using them for spoons to have the broth. The ale gave it a bitter finish, perhaps best with the grilled garlic bread provided.

Perhaps most remarkably, they serve the real Spanish bread, in paper bags: miniature, pointy-ended loaves that are softer than, though just as flavorful as, genuine French bread. You can have it with the complimentary platter of olives (including giant, ripe red ones never before seen in Boston) and the excellent extra virgin olive oil with tarragon leaves marinating in the bottle.

The menu is all small plates: some are more clearly the bar-snack “pinchos” or “tapas” (literally “lids”), while others are more like appetizers or units of entrées. For snacking, don’t miss the fried garbanzo beans ($4). Although it’s just a little plate, each chickpea has a kick of paprika and garlic. With a catchy name like “Catalan Popcorn,” this could be huge. Another small plate you’ll want several of is the classic tortilla ($4), a slice from a thick potato omelet, here served with a lemony homemade mayonnaise. Asparagus soup ($5) is creamy, full of chopped asparagus, and topped with shredded Manchego cheese. I also liked a special dish of broiled chili peppers ($8), full of concentrated flavor; a couple of the peppers were a bit spicy, too.

To fill up, get something with a sauce, such as the spiced tripe and chorizo ($8), a richly flavored tomato-based stew in the tradition of French tripe à la mode de Caen. Or try the littleneck clams ($14), eight clams in a loaf’s worth of onion-garlic-clam-broth sauce that just won’t quit. Another gravy-bearing stew is squid rings ($9) with Basque blood sausage (better than it sounds; rather like scrapple); the rings were nearly as tender as fish. Marinated mussels ($8) were actually pickled with peppers, carrot, and onion.

Maybe I could move up the reincarnation ladder and become a woodpecker if I admit that Tibetan restaurants in Boston are getting better, and that Tashi Delek is such a nicely decorated room, with such reasonably priced food, that it makes a very good alternative, even in restaurant-saturated Brookline Village. In fact, there’s an item at Tashi Delek that I think all chefs should check out — the “Tng Mo” ($3/à la carte; also included with dinner entrées). The menu description is “steamed wheat bran buns,” which strongly understates the case. These are whole-wheat breads with the texture of Chinese steamed buns, folded in beautiful wave-like patterns like Parker House rolls. Someone is surely going to e-mail me that these Brookline tng mo are pale copies of the ones you get in a particular backstreet café in Lhasa, and that they don’t count without yak butter. But I have to tell you that a basket of these with unsalted cow butter is a very convincing illusion of earthly pleasure incarnate.

Like most Tibetan restaurants, Tashi Delek serves momos ($6.50/appetizer; $14–$15/entrée). You get a choice of four fillings, either steamed or fried. The classic filling is of course yak, for which beef and vegetables are the American substitutes. Momos are related to Peking ravioli via Genghis Khan, but beefier. Of the monkish versions (tofu, spinach and cheese, greens and mushrooms), go with the greens and mushrooms. As momos go, the ones here are somewhat starchy.

THE MAIN EVENT: Entrées, such as the skirt steak and Cornish hen, are better bets at Vintage.

The breadbasket was problem number two: cracker breads are fun, but like baguette toasts, they don’t soak up any sauces. They’re workable as carriers for pâté, not for the smear of olive oil and balsamic vinegar we were given.

Our appetizers were good though undistinguished, and the salt began to mount. Mussels Provençal ($11) were nice, plump shellfish, with a garlicky wine sauce that was salty enough to float eggs. A duck spring roll ($10) is a passable fusion idea, fried without too much grease. It’s accompanied by grapefruit slices and an arugula salad . . . with an over-salted dressing. Speck salad ($11) is based on dried, cured bacon, so of course that was saline, too — when it wasn’t wonderfully smoky or, in part of one bite, a little bit rancid. NaCl levels kept coming on the pea-tendril side salad.

“Crispy Fried Calamari” ($10), a “Vintage Lounge House Specialty,” had another over-seasoning problem: too much hot pepper in the pink mayonnaise sauce. It could have been crisper. Still, it gets points for the Kalamata olives.

CRISPY BASIL CHICKEN Nicely fried in squid-like strips, and the savor of Asian basilis unique.

Big mistake. While a review of the new Cambridge location gave me the chance to delve a little deeper into the authentic Taiwanese dishes, one of the most impressive things about this kitchen is the attention paid to detail on both the Chinese-American food and the home-style stuff. Even the steamed white rice ($1.25) is unusually delicious here, buttery tasting without the use of butter and as aromatic as Thai rice. We couldn’t find a weak spot in the overly long menu.

To start with the unusual, you might have a Taiwanese snack such as an order of “pig’s ear” ($4.50), thin-sliced strips of cold gelatinous material that manage to hold quite a bit of soy and five-spice taste. “Crispy basil chicken” ($7.50) isn’t very crisp, but it is nicely fried in squid-like strips, and the savor of sautéed Asian basil is unique. Speaking of squid, the “fried calamari ball” ($6.95) is in fact a plateful of ground-squid meatballs, each with an “X” cut into it, and more of that sautéed basil.

Even should some non-adventurous tourist walk in and order egg rolls ($2.90 “for one”; $5.75 “for two”) and barbecued spareribs ($4.75/$8.50), they’ll still think this is an unusually good restaurant. The ribs are classic, as are the egg rolls, though the latter have some subtle seasoning among the cabbage. Both are served with duck sauce and traditional mustard.

What’s the least Asian item on a Chinese-restaurant menu? Arguably crab Rangoons ($3.75/$6.75), which are wonton skins stuffed with cream cheese and a bit of crab, then deep-fried. But Wisteria House folds theirs into “W” shapes for an extra-crisp surface and serves them fresh and warm, without grease. The larger portion has 14 Rangoons, enough to cater a wedding party. You could also order egg-drop soup ($3.25/small; $5.95/large), another dish almost as Chinese as the American flag. We did, and it was delightful, with a mild but real stock and notes of egg white and scallion in every spoonful.

SMOKED BLUEFISH CAKES Like meaty crab cakes, served with peppery mayonnaise dressing.

Food starts with sourdough bread and sweet butter. Smoked bluefish cakes ($8.95) were on the Caribbean menu at Green Street Grill, though I don’t think bluefish migrate south of the Carolinas. Here they’re like meaty crab cakes, and served with peppery mayonnaise dressing. Rhode Island–style fried calamari ($7.95) have red and green (not-too-hot) hot peppers fried right in. The squid are sweet, the frying is fresh and crisp, and the accompanying dip is a fiery romesco. A special appetizer platter featured two diver sea scallops ($10.95) on top of a terrific hash of chopped artichoke and potatoes, with a tapenade of sun-dried tomatoes on top. I loved the hash but didn’t love the tapenade, so I didn’t eat that part.

You could also just have one of the inexpensive little plates of bar snacks, such as marinated olives ($3.95), which gave us four kinds marinated in lots of garlic and bay leaves.

A cup of Texas chili ($4/cup; $6/bowl) was heaped with cheese, chopped scallion, sour cream, and a wedge of excellent corn bread. Underneath all that was some piquant no-bean chili, full of cubed and chopped meat. (The rule about chili is that mine is the best in the world, and yours is, well, not the best in the world. But I’ll eat this.) For a vegan appetizer, you could have one of the vegetable side dishes, such as broccoli rabe ($3), sautéed to bittersweet with lemon and garlic. Or you could have the vegan soup of the day ($3/cup; $5/bowl), which on my second visit was cream of broccoli rabe. (I guess I was the only person who ordered it as a side vegetable the night before.) It was even better as a soup, the cream base cutting some of the bitterness and leaving a bowl of light-green goodness.

EDITOR'S NOTE: The Recipe Reporter is an occasional series reporting on the techniques, ingredients, science and art used to create the best versions of popular dishes.

Want to get on the "eat local" bandwagon, but don't feel like cooking in the dog days of August? I've got two suggestions for you.

Few things will ruin a season's worth of expectations faster than dining on fresh-picked fruits or vegetables whose time hasn't come. Or, for that matter, whose time has come and gone.

It's one thing to pick your produce when it's at peak ripeness. It's another to deal with it after bringing it into the kitchen.

STEAM DREAM Xiao long bao (steamer of dumplings) is like Peking ravioli with super-juicy insides.
Photo by Brook Griffin.

Taiwan’s culinary situation is as wonderfully confused as its history and politics. It’s part of China, but it is not. Over the past century, Taiwan/Formosa has spent most of its time as a colony of Japan; the second-most time as part of China, but outside the control of the government of China; and the third-most time as the recognized government of China, without actually governing anything on the mainland. For 30,000 years, there were no Han Chinese in Taiwan. Today, they outnumber the indigenous population.

I started tracking these changes when a helpful reader, Ju Chien Hsu, e-mailed me some pointers after I reviewed one of the first Taiwanese restaurants in Chinatown, 13 years ago. “You must try the Crispy Smelled Bean Curd,” she wrote. “This is uniquely Taiwanese and definitely an acquired taste. (I consider tofu to be the cheese of Chinese cuisine; think of this as one of the rank ones.)” All these years later, I finally found a restaurant that featured the dish on an English-language menu, and took advantage of the suggestion. (Although Jo Jo Taipei has translated almost everything, there is a little blackboard with about six specials in Chinese. Once we ordered enough exotic food, our excellent waitress attempted to explain what they were.)

Each table at Jo Jo Taipei starts with a small dish of Spanish peanuts, and another of a sweet-hot lightly pickled salad, mostly cabbage. Then a waitress comes with a tray of potential appetizers.

Some 800 growers contributed to the Madeira wine you enjoyed at the Feast of the Blessed Sacrament last weekend.

HOMETOWN HERO: The King-Kong Burger at Eagle Deli is a winner.

I love revivalist barbecue joints, but what about revivalist burger palaces? Can one revive something that is, unlike barbecue, universally American, and steeped in personal nostalgia? The first principle of hamburgers was enunciated by Calvin Trillin when, in 1970, he casually told Life magazine that Winstead’s, in his native Kansas City, served the best hamburger in the world. Pressed on this point in a later interview, he explained that “Anyone who doesn’t think his hometown has the best hamburger place in the world is a [now politically incorrect term for an effeminate male].” Of course, after a generation, a revivalist burger place becomes a hometown place, so in 20-odd years or so, someone writing in this space might proclaim B.Good to have the best hamburger in the world.

Now, my own hometown burger place no longer exists, and my objective judgment over many years is that Mr. Bartley’s serves the best burger in Greater Boston. But on my recent burger safari, covering lots of other highly regarded local burgers, things did fall rather neatly into three categories. (I ruled out super-yuppie burgers, Kobe beef burgers, and non-beef burgers.) My standard order was a cheeseburger, cooked medium if asked, and served with French fries, except for one instance in which Mrs. Nadeau arrived first and ordered me sweet-potato fries.

Hometown burgers
Boston isn’t my hometown, so I borrowed writer, electronic-crime expert, and drum-and-bugle-corps revivalist Peter Cassidy, who grew up in my present neighborhood, Jamaica Plain. It quickly emerged that Peter’s rosebud would not be a hamburger, but a meatball sub consumed during a drum-corps rehearsal break. (Ah, meatball subs! Readers are invited to e-mail suggestions for a future safari.) But in fact Peter did have fond memories of SIMCO’S ON THE BRIDGE (1509 Blue Hill Avenue, Mattapan, 617.296.3800), a place known mostly for its hot dogs. Off we went, then, toward Mattapan Square. Simco’s is strictly take-out, so we ate the cheeseburger and fries ($6.52) in Peter’s car. It was a very decent burger: double patty, both well done, with a good balance of beef and char flavors, white processed cheese, white sesame bun, and nothing to interfere with the ketchup, onions, and beef. What impressed were the French fries, which were crusty in a way that suggested the double-frying pommes-soufflé technique and had a custardy smooth inside. The hot dog ($2.86), alas, is apparently not what it used to be.

On a hot summer day, nothing tastes better than a good white wine.

Need to de-stress? I suggest a couple of hours in a blueberry patch. To me, time spent plucking berries and plunking them into my old tin lard bucket is as good as a relaxing spa massage.

BLUEBERRY PIE

As the sun rises over a sprawling berry farm in South Glastonbury, Conn., a trained falcon rises into the pink dawn. Her swift, sudden appearance panics a cloud of starlings and sends them fleeing toward the hills.

What to do with your bountiful harvest when you get it home? Here are some ideas.

When Terri Mauro posed the question, "What's so bad about peanut-butter bans?" on her Web site, she never expected the volume of cold and angry comments she received.

Whether or not your child has food allergies, you're likely to encounter a no-peanut butter rule at some point.