So enough about the ambiance already, what about the
food? In a nutshell: It was good, but it couldn't live up to its pretensions. It seems petty to catalog their missteps--or, rather, it
would seem petty if someone else had treated me, but since I paid for my own damn self I shall cavil away!
First, there were the menu problems. We could hardly read them (note to owners: Rustic romantic lighting is all well and good, but you also want the patrons to be able to READ THE FUCKING MENU without having to hold it up four inches from a decorative sconce) and what was there wasn't always accurate.
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bunj, for instance, had the same page twice so was mystified as others discussed the house specialties. When he finally settled on the "veal rack", he was told it was really a veal
chop. His wife, e., was interested in the scallops, but the waiter kept calling them "co-KEEL St. Jacques" when they were actually
coquilles provençales. (She finally had to ask him point-blank, "Cream sauce or tomato sauce?")
The appetisers were pleasant enough. When the waiter said he'd put together a sampler for us, I wasn't expecting individual plates--and certainly not so much on them. I ended up with a scallop and a half, three
escargots, several beer-marinated portobello chunks, and a pile of calamari--but
bunj and e. said they didn't get any escargot at all. Being an olive-hater, I didn't eat the tapanade, but e. complained that it was too strong to put on toast, much less eat with something as delicate as scallops.
The largess made us rightfully cautious about ordering more food and most of us eschewed a soup or salad course. As I told my stepbrother, we had "French preparation meets Missouri portions". The pork loin looked like a pound and my "rack" was eight sizable chops from something older than lamb. They were hell to slice through, however, and I feared the worst, but they turned out to be tender and flavourful (if not half as tasty as those
bunj did up on his own grill for us last year).
bunj had similar problems cutting into his veal--which was otherwise delicious--so we decided to place the blame on the inadequate cutlery (all-steel and serrated only on one side; I initally mistook mine for a bread knife).
Other mistakes: e. got the same garlic mashed potatoes as everyone else, even though the menu promised her sweet potatoes and if the sauce was a "reduction", then it was "reduced from water". (
bunj's "reduction", however, was and was tasty; my sauce would've been too strong for true lamb, but was fine with what I had.) Although everyone else was getting doggie bags, the waiter cleared my place without offering to pack up my three remaining chops. Minor stuff, to be sure, but not things that someone with a four-diamond award from AAA should be allowed to get away with. On the other hand, service was attentive but inobtrusive--stealthy, in fact. And I have no complains about the pinot grigio my stepbrother selected or the Argentinian malbec
bunj picked out.
If I went again, I'd want it to be for lunch rather than dinner so I could get some exploration in. Full spring, before the oppressive Gulf of Mexico humidity arrives, would be perfect were it not for the endless series of weddings clogging the place up every weekend. However, the pizza baked and served on the terrazzo would be fabulous on a cool fall evening.
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