After a weekend of Barbara Lynch-ing ourselves through Boston, WineChap fears that we’re one meal away from succumbing to the gout. For those who don’t know the city on the hill intimately, Barbara Lynch is to Boston what Daniel Boulud is to New York. Lynch has mastered an array of different dining formats, from lunch counter to oyster bar to white tablecloth, proving that her brand of French-cum-Italian cuisine is as beloved in jeans and a t-shirt as it is in a suit and tie. And the wine lists are clearly captained by some well-versed talent—Wine Director Cat Silirie. The ones we pored over were quite brief, but boasted plenty of personality and value.

Here’s our brief recount:

Friday: Accidental binge at No. 9 Park wherein almost every dish is cloaked in foie gras. We left dazed, wandering the streets, trying desperately to maintain blood flow to the heart. The foie fallout was so instantaneous, so catastrophic, that half-glasses of Huet Le Mont and Brundlmayer Sekt were left abandoned due to lack of internal space—a rare and deeply troubling scenario. Click on, dear reader…

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