Resturant Review: Hubbard House

A Hidden Gem

 

The Hubbard House dining hall at Smith College is hidden behind Seelye Hall, the main academic building on campus, and nestled kitty-corner to Green Street and Neilson Library’s parking lot. With no distinctive markings, nor even a small sign to ensure I was on the right path, it was easy to miss, which I did, several times. Despite logistical difficulties, my dining experience was absolutely worth the circuitous route.

Upon entering the dining hall, Julia Child’s pleasing framed face welcomed me. Hubbard was Miss Child’s past home at Smith. The darkly lit room was filled with a quiet hum of voices and lined with booths and small round tables. The counters held baskets of ripe apples and pears, and a few pieces of presumably left-over cinnamon cake from brunch that morning. Further in, a small arch marked by a friendly “Enter” sign gave way to a sun-filled buffet area with four larger round tables. The syrupy and tangy smells of broiled beef tips with sesame ginger sauce and spicy yellow peas floated through the air. The brightly colored salad bar, holding seemingly every ingredient possible from deep red tomatoes to tri-colored pasta salad, was a perfect visual compliment. At the end of the bar a browned crumbling peach crisp rewarded me, large chunks of the sweet fruit enticing the pickiest of eaters.

I filled my plate with the beef tips on white rice with baby corn. A small tomato and pepper salad topped with apple cider vinegar fulfilled the vegetable category. Upon first bite of the beef I was pleasantly surprised, it was far outside the low norm of Smith’s typical mono-tasting, plain Jane, dining hall fare. The beef was cooked medium-well, with a pleasant resistance to dig into, releasing juices with each bite. The sauce was suggestive of honey, but had a sharp bite at the end that cleared the sinuses. The rice, while as bland as all rice is, was well-salted, and went fabulously well with the sauce, absorbing the sweetness to create a complementary balance of the two flavor categories. The final touch of baby corn added a needed crunch to the chewy and soft textures of the beef and rice.  My salad not only looked like spring but tasted like it, too. The leaves were crunchy and slightly tart, but the tartness was offset by juicy tomatoes and the sugary crunch of orange pepper. All the while my winter-pale face soaked up the springtime sun flooding in through large homey windows, the rays dancing along with my taste buds.

To top off the flavors, the presentation was just as appetizing:

Two vegan friends joined me for dinner, choosing the spicy yellow peas entrée. They were impressed by the spices as they debated the mystery flavor at the end of each bite, eventually agreeing it was nutmeg complimenting the easily detectable cinnamon and cardamom. They moved right along to the peach crisp. Stunned that the desert was vegan, they admired the freshness of the fruit and the light flavor of the syrup, gratified that it was not drowned in sugar. One of them even went back for seconds, of everything.

 

My experience was marred somewhat by the awkward setup and non-existent service in the dining room. The sun-lit sector was, for obvious reasons, quite popular, and the overly large tables required multiple parties to fill them. My friends and I were left sitting with people we did not know, which was uncomfortable. The buffet style, get-your-own-food, feel-the-urgent-presence-of-the-hungry-Smithies-behind-you, move-it-along-sisters, was, similarly, an experience best left to a Western novel mess hall. Family dinner at home isn’t supposed to feel so rushed. Finally, the tables were too tall compared to the chairs, so the top of my table almost hit my collarbone. I typically rest my elbows on the table but not that evening. It was almost as if my grandmother, a stickler for correct elbow position at dinnertime, handpicked the tables herself. Despite these hardships, the conversation on the way back to Cushing emphasized the fabulous meal, and very little was heard about the speed bumps along the way.

Miss Child would have been proud.