Owning the title “America’s Oldest Restaurant” could mean an array of things. First of all, it could mean you have the oldest, dustiest cobwebs this side of the Atlantic. It could also mean that your staff could give two shits and you’ll have to deal with whatever unfortunate moment awaited your server before they clocked in earlier in the day. But, in the case of the Union Oyster House in Boston, the cobwebs might be the only downfall, but from where I was seated on the second floor, I didn’t see any … thankfully.
Founded in 1826, the Union Oyster House, famous for its round oyster bar on the first floor, and the popular clientele, including the Kennedy’s, can be found on the aptly named, Union Street near Faneuil Hall. Like many aged buildings in the area, and throughout Boston, the restaurant dons the typical exposed, weathered brick exterior and hardwood interior. If you’re wearing sunglasses, be sure to take them off before you enter, they like to keep it dim.
Known as one of the more popular tourist attractions in the area, the menu will reflect just that. With the prices a bit more inflated, we were skeptical at first, but the when in Rome hypothesis took over us. Naturally, when you go to a restaurant that dons the name “oyster” in it, you have to order oysters.
Not really known as the best season to get them, we ordered a 1/2 dozen, but were pleasantly surprised when we received another six on the house. With horseradish, cocktail sauce, and a little hot sauce on the side, the oysters were a perfect start.
First of two plates of oysters. I will never complain.
At our table we had an unfortunate soul who is unable to consume any dairy. Our waitress, whose name I wrote on a piece of paper I have since misplaced, will now be down as Janice. Forgive me, when I think of waitresses, and if you’re reading this and are one, you’re a Janice to me. Janice, like myself felt quite sympathetic to this dairy-free soul, and supplied her with ideas and recommendations, all with a smile. Usually, we would be rewarded with a grimace, when Janice, or her male counterpart, John, knew that we would be an utter pain, surely to cause them to work late or work too hard on a table that wouldn’t tip enough.
Well, Janice, or the John who was surely around laughing at her, you were both, so, so wrong. The table ordered Salmon. No, we didn’t really all order the same entree, but we did order the same fish. Three of us ordered the stuffed salmon while the “dairy-free-girl” ordered a simple grilled salmon, which to be honest, looked the best.
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The grilled salmon came out with a perfect grill outline, making my mouth water, and dropping the jaws of those at my table instantly. Though it didn’t look as appealing to the eye, the stuffed salmon was just as good. Cooked to perfection, a nice healthy pink on the inside, and juicy all the way through. We all looked up and smiled. I made the right choice.
Stuffing was superb. They wouldn't tell me what was in it.
The staff at the restaurant were not of your typical tourist attractions. They were kind, extremely helpful, and rather talkative and humorous. The food, the staff, and the satisfaction of being in a National Historic Landmark was enough for me.
