Bring your furry friends

Oh, yeah—dogs allowed, too

Rocca

The gardens are lush and the umbrellas are yellow at this off-the-main-drag enclave. Strike when the sangria bianca's ice-cold, defending your meatball sliders and braised artichokes from the stares of a curious pooch.

[500 Harrison Ave., South End, Boston. 617.451.5151. roccaboston.com]

Some like it raw

Like a fish (and friends) out of water

Eastern Standard

Alaskan king crab legs, $7

Tucked at the very rear of the restaurant lies the bounty of the sea, stacked upon ice at the raw bar. Tucked among the bivalves are massive crab legs cooked, then chilled, for maximum shell-cracking and -sucking action. We're all friends here—tuck that napkin into your shirt and let the ocean-juice squirting begin.

[528 Comm. Ave., Kenmore Sq., Boston. 617.532.9110. easternstandardboston.com]

Genius on the half-shell

Get the shuck out with Island Creek Oysters

Shore Gregory, director of business development for Island Creek Oysters, is on the phone when we arrive at their Duxbury headquarters. One can't help but overhear: The call's with someone from Per Se in New York. Gregory greets us with a nonchalant fist-pound as he wraps things up with the Michelin-starred client. They sound like personal friends.

A flash in the pan

Blink and miss these height-of-the-season ingredients

Craigie Street Bistrot

Homemade garlic sausage, ragout of forest mushrooms, farm fresh egg and garden herb coulis, $16

As chef/owner, Tony Maws reinvents the menu by the day, if not the hour, so you're rightly assured food at the pinnacle of farm-freshness. Between independently foraged fungus and a garnish of edible in-season flowers, this dish isn't mere dinner—it's performance art.

[5 Craigie Circle, Cambridge. 617.497.5511. craigiestreetbistrot.com]

Sit, boy, sit

Spilled bowls, stolen fries and sidewalk-level sightings

I am not in a state of confusion or delusion about whether my dog is actually my child.

Eko is a big brown lab mix. He has no qualms about licking the floor, sleeping in dirt, chewing on raw bones or sniffing poop. He's sweet enough when snuggled on the couch, but show him a squirrel and it's not hard to remember that he's one evolutionary step away from a wolf.

An auspicious meating

Plus cream, eggs and protein with ethical particulars

Bloc 11 Café

Cage-free organic egg & cheese sandwich, $4 (with prosciutto, $6)

Café owners Jen Park and Tucker Lewis provide a handy (and socially responsible) meal on the go, uniting bread baked at local yeast wizard Iggy's with eggs laid by liberated chix. Mass-produced McBreakfasts worldwide shudder, carving deep inferiority complexes. Yay: It's working.

[11 Bow St., Union Sq., Somerville. 617.623.0000]

This little piggy went to market

Under the knife of chef Adam Fuller at Great Bay

The pig was to be delivered promptly at 10am.

In the relatively calm early hours of the kitchen at Great Bay, the air takes an anticipatory turn to the fleshy arrival: a 102-pound pig slung over the shoulder of Aidan Davin, co-owner of Stillman's Farm. Freed from its plastic wrappings, the animal emerges whole and shaved, soon relinquished to the long table along the wall. Executive chef Adam Fuller, who mere seconds ago composed an aromatic cardamom-, cumin-, cinnamon-inflected spice rub for cured pork belly, receives the animal and prepares for carnage with a grin.

The crisper whisperer

Wrangling greens with chef David Punch of Ten Tables

Perhaps you're part of a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program, receiving the freshest crops from the farm. Or maybe hitting up your local farmers market with a crumpled wad of cash is part of the weekly regimen. But what happens after you get home? The counter's covered by a slew of raw veggies, and suddenly you're feeling a little anxious. What are you supposed to do with it all? How does a chef see a salad in an asparagus, a chilled soup in a bulb of fennel, a sweet sorbet in a strawberry? Well, I asked one.

Pick your ears

That's some friggin' sweet corn

SILVER POLYRESIN CORN

These shiny picks are the T-3000 of corn-holding technology, chic enough for any kitchen or rooftop affair. In a pinch, you could also smelt them down for spare dental fillings or butter-flavored bullets, solving that ever-pesky werewolf problem.