Sensing at Fairmount Battery Wharf Now Open

Using an interpreter, Martin welcomed the motley crew into his modern, low-ceilinged space, then left the rest of the journalists with representatives from the restaurant. This Bostonist was seated with a swarthy salesman, Citysearch editor (and former Dig food writer) Christine Liu, Globe columnist Rachel Travers, and Improper Bostonians Nick Altschuller and Linh Tran Brincat. We didn't exchange names until after we were comfortably seated, though, and it turns out that Brincat had just written a sprawling New Years-y piece on her utter failure to comprehend veganism, which this author had recently pilloried in another online column. There is nothing so unforgivable to this Bostonist as ruining a nice dinner, even over ideology, so to right the food karma, when the first tasting plates rolled around (bedecked with oysters, Jerusalem artichoke soup and cheese-filled sushi) your veggie-minded correspondent offered Brincat her portion of the duck foie gras crème brulee and successfully avoided discussing its origins over dinner. In fact, by the time we had finished our delicious sauvignon blanc (Sancerre Ladoucette, Comte Lafond, Savuignon, Val De Loire 2006) and the burgundy that came later (Nuit St Georges Chaivenet ler Chiagnot, 2004), we were all downright chummy.

Martin, in typical French form, has said he does not cook “health food.” He simply makes food that is healthy. And indeed, we were pleasantly but not obscenely full after sampling courses of cod steamed with lemongrass and coconut (think best non-takeout Thai you’ve ever had) and a seared tuna that tasted more of steak than sea—a good thing. Rounding out the meal was a passionfruit and lime cheesecake with mango sorbet—a light and tangy finish and a welcome taste of the tropics on a night so frigid, this Bostonist suggested in all seriousness that the hotel run a free shuttle from the subway to get locals in the door.

Following the coffee, we were each handed a mint-size disc, placed in a bowl, and cautioned not to eat it (not a minute too soon for Bostonist). A server then came round the table and poured water on each one, until the disc inflated into a hot, moist towelette in the manner of those inflatable "boyfriends" they sell in novelty stores. Sure, it was a gimmick, but it had us giggling like six-year-olds.

In the end, though we failed to sense the difference between a three Michelin star chef’s food and any other well-made meal in the city. Citysearch’s Liu thought it may be due to the restaurant’s design. While some might call it minimalist, others might call it DoubleTree Hotel circa 2003, and the pedestrian setting may have affected our concept of the food. It did not feel like a hotel restaurant that has transcended its hotel in the manner of Eastern Standard or Rialto or Dante. Or, to be fair, it hasn't transcended it yet.

However, the quality of service we received easily ranks with the best we've had in the city. Bostonist hesitates to comment on this, because servers and staff will naturally pamper the press dinner guests, but one gets the sense that Martin and the Fairmount Battery Staff are fairly dedicated to the way the food is presented as well as the way it tastes going down.

Sensing is certain to become a destination for chowhounds who are curious about Martin, tourists who end up on this side of Hanover in their quest to read every menu in the North End before settling down to dinner, or diners looking for a waterfront restaurant experience that is not Joe’s American Grill. We say it's worth trying once, but—and we mustn’t break with Bostonist’s tradition of lambasting ridiculously expensive food and drink items here—please don’t feel obligated to order the $22 French 75 cocktail. That's for crazy ladies with impractical bling and foofy dogs -- not for you.