The Savant Project has an unwieldy name for a bistro, and, riding the 39 bus on our way to Brigham Circle, Bostonist kept thinking of idiots. But the name sticks with you, as does the interior of the place, once you've gotten a glimpse. Small, in the way urban restaurants have to be, it had a scattering of tables in the front, under the glow of gold tin walls. The bar lay just past the entrance, fronted by a narrow hallway. And Tuesday night that hallway was packed with patrons.
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