Enticing tapas in a refined room

By James Reed -- December 21, 2007
It's just 50 feet, people. That's all that separates the outside sign from the restaurant itself, yet somehow folks have a hard time finding Small Plates. Nestled in a little side pocket off JFK Street in Harvard Square - smack in between Boston Tea Stop cafe and For Eyes eyewear store - this new tapas restaurant is a hidden gem that's quickly (and rightly) being discovered.

Of course, it's not impossible to attract a devoted following to this location. The beloved Spanish restaurant Iruña occupied the space for more than 40 years, and then Conundrum held court for what felt like a blink of an eye. Even now, local foodies lament Iruña's closing; befitting a restaurant off the beaten path, Iruña was quiet, the service unassuming, the food hearty, and there was the distinct feeling that you were eating inside someone's home dining room. Meanwhile, judging from the Globe's review of it last year, I'm guessing location was not part of Conundrum's conundrum.

Jerome Picca co-owns Small Plates with his wife, Stephanie, and they've made the restaurant a worthy heir to Iruña's considerable legacy. Granted, it's much more refined, and the food is more upscale than rustic. Stephanie, an interior designer, has opened up the dining room and accentuated it with long mirrors and quaint lamps mounted on the walls. The well-worn wood floors remain the same, thankfully. (And someone scores bonus points for the Hope Sandoval and El Perro del Mar songs we heard on our visit earlier this week.)

With just a few other diners surrounding us, we took a table in the back and warmed up with some drinks. Sangria and a wine cocktail were tasty but not nearly as comforting as a cup of hot mulled cider with a cinnamon stick bobbing in the middle. (Small Plates has a license to serve wine and beer only.)

With tapas ranging from a reasonable $6 to $11, the menu is limited but still enticing, with good options for seafood, meat, poultry, and especially vegetables. We opted for two tapas and an entree each, and it was the perfect amount of food. (Well, two desserts didn't hurt, either.)

An order of "two killer B's," a duo of mini burgers, arrived on baby buns smothered in caramelized onions. Described simply as "flavors of the world on a flaky pastry crust," the pissaladiere tapa was more filling than some of the other small plates, which are suitable for two people. Hunks of jerk chicken got an extra zing from the accompanying salsa of papaya, pepper, and onions. Only the squash fettuccine - ribboned, limp strips of warm squash - didn't stack up.

For entrees, which you can order full size or as a smaller tapas portion, we tried the bistro steak (good) and grilled lamb chops (even better). For lighter fare, a tangy Mediterranean sandwich pleased one of us with its layers of hummus, eggplant, tomatoes, and artichokes. Later on the phone, Picca says the menu is evolving, and already the restaurant has mixed up its offerings a few times since opening at the tail end of October.

"Pie a la mood," cheekily written with the mathematical symbol for pi, changes every so often, too (hence "a la mood"). We ended up with the sweet-potato pie, and we still haven't decided if we loved it or hated it. A creamy mound of whipped sweet potato in a pie shell, it was seasoned with brown sugar, salt, and pepper, giving it the contradictory sensation of savory and bittersweet. But then we got distracted as we plunged our forks into dense flourless chocolate cake with mango coulis. "I could eat this all day," one of us said, to which another quipped, "You'd be sick after 10 minutes."

As we left, we noticed people filing by on the sidewalk, paying little attention to the "We're Open" sign out in front. Give it another month and we're guessing they'll be walking that extra 50 feet.