In the same way college students are required to love Wes Anderson movies and Vampire Weekend, we are practically obliged to enjoy a novel and creative restaurant like The Friendly Toast. It's delightfully offbeat, and the decor and menu reference lovable classics like Alfred Hitchcock's "Rear Window" (1954) and old Hardy Boys novels. If a '50s diner theme and rockabilly waitresses don't set your heart aflutter, its Cambridge location and proximity to indie-crazed theater Kendall Square Cinema will at least make you admire the restaurant for its convenience.
Needless to say, when I finally made my way to The Friendly Toast, my expectations were high. I assumed on instinct I'd love it all.
Visiting Toast often requires a flexible dining schedule or a decent deal of patience. Diners with their hearts set on Sunday brunch should expect to wait an ample amount of time before getting a table. But for an only slightly awkward 3 p.m. Saturday lunch, we were seated immediately and had most of the diner to ourselves.
Upon entering the restaurant, the first thing you notice — as the case is for many a restaurant — is a fully stocked and tended bar. However, at 3 p.m., and at a place known for its breakfast food, I was a little surprised to see so much attention paid to alcohol. When I sat down, I was handed a rather long drink menu. My favorite section of the list was irresistibly titled Hitchcocktails, which listed drinks named after every classic from "The Birds" (1963) to "Notorious" (1946).
I treated myself to the North by Northwest, named after Hitchcock's 1959 film and made with Bacardi, Gosling's Light and Dark rum, apricot puree, grenadine and sour mix. My friend ordered the Spellbound with Bombay Sapphire: triple sec, pear puree and lime.
The cocktails were the perfect drink for anyone with an avid sweet tooth. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people — at least, not when it comes to alcohol. Underaged diners are likely to find more enjoyment from Toast's elaborate shake, soda and cocoa menu. From that list, diners can indulge in oddities like the Red Bull Frappe — made with berries, a banana, a whole can of Red Bull and vanilla ice cream — and the Moxie Milkshake, made with a can of Moxie and either vanilla or coffee ice cream. Over 21, but nostalgic for your younger years? Try a luxurious Leah's Liquid — a vanilla shake with Grand Marnier.
Despite my indifference toward my beverage — it was the middle of the day, after all — the restaurant was still on my good side. The waiters were quirky, kind and thoroughly tattooed, and the interior design was fun and eclectic. The venue even sported a bit of a dark twist, with its vaguely creepy and decrepit vintage dolls adorning the entryway.
Our appetizer arrived quickly. The simply-named Cheesy Fries featured an updated version of the classic side dish; the fries were smothered in bleu cheese and provolone, and a dollop of strawberry habanero dip offered an extra kick. The dish was a perfect, modern twist on classic comfort food. The strong flavors of bleu cheese worked well with the sweet, spicy jam; together, they banished the bland, starchy taste normally implicit in a fried potato dish.
By the time the entrees came, I was fully prepared to fall in head-over-heels in love with the Friendly Toast. And when they sat my dish in front of me — dubbed The Crazy Quesadilla, with mashed sweet potatoes, brie, red chili pecans, green apple slices and baked ham — I expected the same play of savory, spicy and sweet to be artfully combined within the folds of a warm tortilla.
Unfortunately, all I could taste was sweet potato, and not even very sweet sweet potato at that. All the flavors seemed to have mushed together into a bland and uninspiring dish, in the same way that mixing individually vibrant watercolor paints yields a gloomy, gray canvas.
Disappointed, but still willing to be convinced, I endeavored to try my friends' dishes, which included the Drunkard's French Toast, smothered in Grand Marnier and raspberry sauce; the Hansel and Gretel, a gingerbread waffle with whipped cream and pomegranate molasses; and the Sklarmageddon, an omelet with sausage, bacon, ham, red-chile pecans, jalapeno jack cheese, Swiss cheese and maple sour cream.
But the entrees still lacked flair and flavor, which was a surprising disappointment, since the restaurant's design and servers were anything but dull. I was forced to conclude that, although The Friendly Toast is an interesting dining experience, novelty does not automatically imply excellent eats. Its dishes are hit-or-miss, and although Toast's willingness to attempt creative entrees is admirable, the skill to execute them successfully is not always there.
On a positive note, this place is a haven for cheese lovers. The restaurant willingly dispenses generous heaps of goat cheese, bleu cheese, brie and more onto your order. And of course, the drink list is elaborate and fun.
Unfortunately, once the novelty of drinking a mojito milkshake wears off, I'm not sure there's much left to lure me back.
