Mystery Plate of the Month!

Can you tell where this dinner plate of food came from?
Write in your thoughts and reactions please!

(For the answer, see "Mystery Solved" posted in November 2008.

Chef Wayne's Big Mamou - Williamsburg Style

We were ravenous when we entered the Big Mamou restaurant in Williamsburg. I’d heard recommendations for Chef Wayne’s Springfield restaurant many times but had never visited. Cajun food isn’t our typical fare, but when we were visiting the Williamsburg Country Store one day and spotted his new restaurant across the street, we couldn’t resist trying it out. We were shown to our table by a raspy voiced, friendly waitress who welcomed us, joked with us, and literally pulled up a chair when it was time to order. What a difference a server can make - by the time we had placed our order we felt completely at home and completely relaxed.

The place looked great. New Orleans purples, greens and golds are reflected in the walls, tablecloths, hanging masks and stained glass windows. Casual, creative and funky, the décor conjures up a Mardi Gras party atmosphere. This was helped by the jazzy up-tempo music. We found ourselves smiling and bouncing in our chairs to the music.

We ordered two lunch specials and a sandwich from the regular menu. The sandwich was a fried eggplant po’boy with roasted tomato, peppers, artichoke hearts and cheese. It was a flavorful combination and large enough to satisfy a hungry trucker. It came with jambalaya rice. The fluffy yellow rice was smothered with a creamy, rich gravy that was unlike anything I’ve ever eaten, and I will confess I had no idea what was in it. I suspected a chicken base, but beyond that I could only detect tiny bits of celery and possibly some corn? It was recognizable as universal, soothing comfort food, yet full of strange and sparky flavor at the same time. My wife theorized that it was what Rice-A-Roni fantasizes being when it grows up. I don’t know about that, all I know is that I couldn’t get enough.

Fortunately, one of the lunch specials had the same jambalaya rice, and I polished off that portion as well. This second plate also was heaped with the best pulled pork I’ve ever eaten. Spicy but not overly hot, rich and tender chunks of pork, and smoky and barbecued in just the right balance. Honestly, you could taste the love. I haven’t been a real fan of pulled pork in the past because it is typically dominated by smoke flavor. But this dish was like a ferris wheel of flavor in my mouth – first a happy shock of sweetness, followed by a full-bodied and rich tomato essence, blending with the little mounds and morsels of succulent pork, rounded out with a spicy smokiness that left a warm glow in my mouth. It was magnificent. The third dish (yes, we ordered three entrees for lunch between us . . . got a problem with that?) was a fried catfish special with red beans and rice. Both specials came with cornbread and sautéed veggies – mostly summer squash, zucchini and string beans. The vegetables were okay, but the rosemary seasoning was a bit heavy. The cornbread was good but nothing extraordinary. On the other hand, the catfish was anything but ordinary. It had a satisfyingly crunchy cornmeal crust with tender, perfectly cooked fresh fish inside. The rémoulade sauce added a nice creamy kick to the fish. The red beans and rice were good, but, for me, the jambalaya rice was the clear winner.

Sweet tea might have been enough to round out the meal for most diners, but we aren’t most diners. While disappointed to hear they didn’t have their bread pudding (my wife’s favorite dessert), we consoled ourselves with the sweet potato pie on a plate drizzled with caramel and a thick wedge of Aunt Millie’s pound cake in a pool of intense raspberry sauce and warm brandied peaches and pecans. The pie was tasty, but Aunt Millie’s creation was serious business. Warm, dense, and moist, it tasted like a cross between pound cake and chic bread pudding. We were giggling like fools by the end of the meal. Happy, very full fools. What a surprising and wonderful meal.

As we exited, we noted the dinner specials for that evening and mourned the loss of them. The great news is that there are so many more options to try when we return - as we surely will. Blackened prime rib or blackened salmon with jambalaya and crawfish topping? Oh yeah, baby . . . I love Cajun cooking!

Apollo Grill in Easthampton

The big spaceman is gone. I don’t know when it left, but I was sad and I miss him. Am I the only one who loves the fifties space theme this much? I love the big panels around the ceiling with outer space pictures and the big tall robot surrounded by salt and pepper “people” clustered at his robot feet. The candleholder at our table was from NASA, and the plates had cool space decorations, too. I love it all. Apollo Grill was decorated by some interesting folks.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the loud noise inside. Depending on how sensitive you are to noise, it could actually be a potential dinner deal-breaker. If you come forewarned, you could find yourself in for a delicious and inventive meal.

There were some phenomenally good dishes available the night we visited this summer. First, we chose their braised wild mushrooms with parmesan polenta. The triangles of polenta were fried to a crispy golden brown, but when cut open, the soft insides oozed just slightly with a softer polenta core. The polenta was loaded with wild mushrooms in a deep foresty-tasting sauce. Our second starter was spring rolls loaded with marinated vegetables, a hot and delicious dipping sauce, and some mint and ginger cucumber salad.

We ordered two salads and were delighted with both. One was from the dinner menu - roasted beets, goat cheese and walnut salad with a balsamic dressing. The second was a special that evening, sliced tomatoes and gorgonzola over arugula. Both were just the right balance of tart/acidic and sweet/mellow and intensely flavorful. Accompanying the salads was the best bread I’ve ever eaten in a restaurant. I mean it. It was crusty on the outside, still steaming when unwrapped from its linen napkin. Paired with the sweet butter they brought to accompany it, it was everything you hope for in a bread but mostly don’t get. If the only thing we ate that night was the bread and butter, it still would have been a remarkable and memorable meal.

Next we ordered two entrees. The first was their signature pistachio crusted salmon served with purple sticky rice, Napa cabbage slaw, and mango hollandaise. The salmon was slightly overcooked; pink throughout is a little overdone to my taste, but my wife loved it that way. The mango hollandaise was absolutely delicious, and had it been served with the fish against a less challenging backdrop, we might have exclaimed more about it. The rice was crunchy and had the texture of slightly underdone wild rice. While fascinating for a bite or two, I think it’s unlikely that anyone has ever eaten close to the huge portion that was served on this plate. Under everything was a big bed of Napa slaw that surprised the palate with a marked Chinese barbecue hoisen sauce flavor. The combination was too much of the unexpected, warring powerful flavors, a riot of color and texture, and piled a bit like kids who stir their dining room food together in fun. Salmon with A.D.D. Calm down. Breathe deeply. Look in the mirror. Remember Stuart Smalley? You ARE good enough and we respect your Chefness. You just need to relax and make some editing choices on your plates. Some white space is always good. Peaceful. Okay?

The duck, spinach and brie quesadilla with black beans, rice and corn, guacamole, and tomatillo salsa was not good. An odd, rubbery cold cut form of smoked duck, brie that was kind of congealed and overdone, and rice that was criminally underdone. Yuck, is there anything worse than uncooked rice?

Given how much we loved the appetizers, bread and salads, we think that next time we may stick to adding another appetizer or two and pass on the entrees. But there definitely will be a next time. All I need to do is think about that warm bread and sweet butter, and I want to return. Note to self – bring ear plugs and prepare to sign language with wife all night. Final note to self – learn to sign language with wife.

Carmelina's in Hadley

It was a Saturday night, and my wife, son and I decided on the spur of the moment to go out to dinner rather than cook. Where to go? Fully aware that it might be too crowded without an available table for walk-in’s, we settled on Carmelina’s. To our delight, within minutes of our arrival we were assured that there was a table for us, and less than five minutes later, we were escorted to one by a hostess. We’d eaten at Carmelina’s half a dozen times before, so we were surprised when the hostess led us down a staircase to a room under the main dining area. Who knew there was another floor?

When we arrived downstairs, the room was almost empty – only two other tables were occupied. At first it seemed a quiet, lovely respite from the noisy and crowded upper floor. Unfortunately, within a few minutes we started to shiver from the overly aggressive air conditioning. A brief comment to the maître d' was received with grace, and sure enough, someone appeared downstairs to dial some sort of button and told us that it should be less cold shortly. The other two families in the room waved to us and said, “We hope so - we’ve been freezing too!” No such luck, and despite repeated requests for adjustment, we were uncomfortably cold during the entire visit. If you knew me you’d realize just how cold it must have been – I’m the one in the room who is always hot and asking for MORE air conditioning.

But I’m supposed to be writing about the food, no? The rolls, butter and tapenade that arrived with the menus were delicious. The warm rolls were slightly onion flavored and freshly baked, and we relished every bite and asked for more. After scanning the menu carefully, we decided on sharing five appetizers/small plates and one entrée. The wait seemed interminable, but finally two appetizers arrived. The pan-seared scallops served with Enoki mushrooms in a spicy lobster stock and fresh grapefruit sauce were delicious. Just spicy enough to tantalize and wake up the taste buds, with a grapefruit sauce that begged to be soaked up with the chewy rolls. The special appetizer of the day was a similar dish, only this was made with shrimp and a variety of mushrooms. We enjoyed both, though the shrimp was perfectly cooked and particularly tasty paired with the grapefruit sauce.

The next two dishes to arrive – about 40 minutes later - were small portions of fresh pea and prosciutto risotto and fettuccini alfredo. The risotto was so full of parmesan that the cheese was literally all we could taste. It was also stiff and chewy enough to be unpleasant. A few bites into it, and we pushed it aside. The second small plate was the fettuccini alfredo. Anyone who orders this particular pasta dish knows to expect a rich sauce, but it went beyond rich to actually greasy tasting, with streams of oil congealing on the sides of the plate. After a few bites it was also hard to take. The hard, congealed food was partially due to the temperature in the room, which quickly turned anything on our table frosty within minutes. We actually began ordering hot tea to warm up. A teenager sipping hot tea in a restaurant to stay warm is a painful sight.

Our remaining dishes were an intriguing sounding eggplant carpaccio with mixed greens in a spicy vinaigrette, and a New Zealand Lamb Shank, braised with aromatic herbs and red wine and served with risotto milanese. Both dishes were okay. Just okay. At that point we had literally been in the restaurant for two very cold hours and were more than ready to go home. Our appetites had pretty much vanished, our good moods evaporated, and the tea left in our teacups was forming an icy skin. When the two final dishes arrived, the other two tables had left, and we were quite alone in the icy cold basement of Carmelina’s. It felt a little bit like restaurant detention, eerie and weird. Above the stairs, we could hear the piano player and people bustling about, but down below it was just us, a bunch of empty tables, a fish tank and a very powerful air conditioner.

Within minutes the lamb was absolutely cold to the touch. I happen to love roasted lamb – it’s one of my favorite dishes - but this dish was disappointing. The flavor was okay, and it looked pretty enough, but roasted lamb should be so tender it literally falls off the bone. This needed more cooking (or maybe I just wanted it to be hotter?). The risotto that came with it was a slightly different preparation than the small plate we’d eaten an hour earlier, but suffered from the same overly cheesy, stiff texture. I was able to stand a fork up in it . . . literally. It might have been inappropriate to play with my food in that way, but who was there to see it?

We waited another half hour for the server to return, fetch our check, deal with the credit card and return the slip. Our friendly waitress was surprised that we didn’t want the leftovers packed up (just let us out of here!). We exited in relief, thawing in the warm night and drove home exclaiming over our astonishing nearly three-hour meal. It’s not like we had multiple courses – we had told the server to bring the plates together, or as soon as they were ready - nor did we have dessert. It was just a torturously slow night, most likely at least a partial result of the separation between us and the rest of the civilized world.

I think it will be a very long time before we venture back into Carmelina’s.

The New Summer Menu at Chez Albert

Brace yourself - there may not be enough superlatives to describe my love affair with this restaurant. No matter where else I go, I always wonder at the end of the meal, “Should I have gone to Chez Albert instead - and why do I ever eat anywhere else?”

The experience always begins with Emmanuel greeting us with his smile and French accent and directing us to a small, humble table in a small, humble restaurant. Menus are simple pieces of paper with minimal descriptions and a chalkboard with daily specials. The water is lukewarm, sometimes the restaurant is noisy enough to make conversation between more than two people difficult, the air conditioner kind of works, and the wait for food can feel like forever - and sometimes actually is.

So why do I love it so? Because the fresh, creative, superb plates of food are like a gift that makes me want to sob “I’m not worthy.” Menus change with each season, and specials are like a siren song you really shouldn’t resist. Paul Hathaway, Chez Albert’s remarkable chef and owner, has a genius for combining foods that harmonize wonderfully on a plate. The whole is greater than the parts, though each of the parts are darn good too! I’m known for obsessively arranging each forkful, making sure that each element on the plate is represented. Each time the mélange hits my mouth I sigh with contentment and pleasure.

Do I love every single dish? No. Of course not. But if I don’t enjoy a dish, it’s because it’s not to my taste for some reason – and despite that, I can always appreciate the freshness, beauty and innovation. Let me make this absolutely clear – Chef is not about altering his recipes for change’s sake. He’s mastered a particular combination of innovation and classics. Nothing is silly, pretentious or staged - it’s about wonderful ingredients prepared well. His sauces are so exciting I find myself running my fingers over the plate to lick up every bit. I could eat anything if it had his brown butter sauce on it. Last summer, he made a fish dish with a zucchini blossom sauce that completely blew my mind.

Tonight we chose from the new summer menu and treated ourselves to three appetizers and two entrees. The starters were a cold lobster corn chowder, a smoked salmon spring roll, and a roasted piece of pork belly with caramelized peaches. My wife enjoyed the creamy chowder, but I thought it lacked the corn flavor I had anticipated and was a bit peppery for my taste. The spring roll was a work of art, paper thin cucumbers showing through the wrapper like edible stained glass. But the winning appetizer was the pork belly with a caramelized peach. I think I actually swooned for a few moments there – time seemed to slow down and, for the first time, I experienced living in the Buddhist moment. The unctuous, crispy, salty, tender mouthful was an experience I won’t forget soon. Paired with the peach or stand alone, it was one of the best bites of food I’ve ever had. We ended up chatting with the diners at the table next to us throughout the meal (one of the lovely side benefits of the restaurant is that we often seem to meet equally reverent and grateful visitors and exclaim together about our various dishes). They seemed as stunned as we were by the intensely rich and flavorful pork.

Our entrees were cod and trout. Sounds pedestrian? Oh no, my cynical friend – anything but! The cod was pan seared, with just a bit of creamy, citrusy, lemon velouté sauce. The fish was cooked perfectly, tender and moist and delectable. It was served with a pea and lardon risotto and flavorful cooked kale. The fresh sweet peas and bacon combined well with the creamy rice.

Our second entrée was sautéed trout with creamed corn on a bed of kale and a fresh wild mushroom salad. I feel confident saying that you have never, ever tasted creamed corn like they made tonight. Erase any image of that canned stuff - this was more like a buttery, rich compote exploding with sweet corn flavor. The combination of each of the elements was some kind of universal harmonic perfection.

Paul isn’t into making desserts, although they always have a rich chocolate mousse and creamy crème brulee, as well as a few other changing options. According to Emmanuel, Chef has only made a couple of desserts himself since opening several years ago. But tonight he made a crepe filled with lemon custard topped with a fresh blueberry sauce that was the best possible ending to our remarkable meal. Yes, we also enjoyed the cheesecake with sautéed fresh peaches, and yes, it’s always a treat to enjoy their designer teas and full-bodied coffees, but the combination of the soft crepe, tangy lemon curd and intense blueberry sauce full of juicy big blueberries was light, soothing, and just sweet and tart enough to have us (and the table next to us) exclaiming and sighing in dreamy, gastronomical bliss. I warned you about all of the superlatives, didn’t I?

During a visit about a year ago, we were seated next to a couple who were apparently there for the first time. They had allowed themselves an hour for dinner and had planned to attend some sort of show immediately afterwards. Silly couple – an hour at a French restaurant? What were they thinking? They became increasingly irritated by the wait for their entrees, and began complaining to each other loudly enough for anyone close by to hear them. Our main courses were presented moments before theirs, and they raised their voices and yelled at Manuel, “WE were here before THEM. This is ridiculous!” My wife and I looked at each other and gasped (I think she actually flinched). Manuel immediately said, “Your dishes are coming in just a moment,” and sure enough, even as he finished the sentence, another server placed their dinner on the table.

It stands out in my mind because we always feel honored to be presented with their food. If it takes a long time, that’s a small price to pay. Do you really have anything better to do with two hours? If the air conditioner is not working too well, we suck it up and forbear. If the ice water is - well - tepid, so what? Those who are lucky enough to receive Chef’s culinary masterpieces need to receive it with humility and gratitude. Later that night, we commiserated with Emmanuel and shared our shock at their graceless behavior. And that’s yet another lovely dimension of our experience at Chez Albert – after a few visits you begin to reach “insider” status and are treated like a valued old friend. I hope it is a friendship that lasts a long, long, long time.