The Night Kitchen

We heard the sound of rushing water as we walked towards the patio and outdoor dining section of the Night Kitchen. Choosing the inside space rather than eat with the mosquitoes, we were greeted by a hostess who checked the reservations list, smiled up at us, and said “you’re booked at the best table in the restaurant!”
An auspicious beginning. Our table was tucked in the far corner and surrounded on two sides by large windows and a thrilling view of the rushing water falls and lush green landscape around it. An interesting building. We sat next to the remnant of a mysterious pile of machine parts and theorized about what it might have been. But not for long - we quickly had elegant menus presented to us, and we began to read the intriguing sounding options.
We began with a shrimp sauté with sweet corn timbale, guacamole and cilantro oil. The dish was enormous. About six or eight shrimp were lavishly covered with a rich tomato based sauce which was just the right amount of sweet and spicy and rich and delicious. There was a gargantuan portion of sauce ladled on top, and I suffered from leaving it there because it tasted so darn good. I used one of the pita chips from the complimentary basket to scoop up about a quarter of the mouthwatering sauce, which I thoroughly enjoyed, but the chip was hard and unpleasant. To continue the over-the-top theme, there must have been a third of a cup of guacamole spooned around the dish. We forced ourselves to stop eating it because finishing it would have undermined the rest of the meal. Isn’t an appetizer supposed to be an appetite teaser? This dish wasn’t teasing, it was dead serious. Our second appetizer was the pulled braised duck in hazelnut crepes with wilted frisee and orange chutney. The combination of the slightly bitter citrus with the flavorful and soft crepes stuffed with rich duck inside was unusual and tasty. Although the description didn’t state it, there was a creamy sauce of some kind inside the crepe that added to the rich buttery flavor of the dish. Again, however, it was a large, rich and very heavy dish. Granted, we chose the two appetizers, but the size and composition of both was more appropriate for a winter meal than one in the middle of August.
Our salad choice was grilled hearts of romaine with a lemon, anchovy and buttermilk dressing. It was so overwhelmingly garlicky that as soon as we tasted it we immediately pushed it away. Salad should be crispy and fresh tasting with dressing that teases the taste buds while letting the greens shine through. We didn’t taste greens, lemon, anchovy or buttermilk - just garlic. This was a dish only Emeril could love.
Our first entree included the grilled pork chop with orange-chipotle barbecue sauce, tempura battered onion rings, buttermilk mashed potatoes and a mix of sautéed fresh vegetables. The pork chop was slightly dry, but the sauce was pleasant. Nothing extraordinary, just pleasant. The onion rings weren’t particularly appealing or crispy, and the mashed potatoes were okay, but kind of drowned by the chop, veggies, potato and onion rings. Are you getting the picture? This was a huge plate of food! The vegetables were made by the same person who grilled the salad because the garlic taste was so intense it was as though it was a dish of sautéed garlic - any vegetable flavor had been sought out, dominated and destroyed.
Our second entrée was one of the specials that night. Sautéed scallops over fresh spinach with a creamy sauce. Scallops done right are sweet, tender bites and sautéed they come into their own with buttery crispy bits on the browned surface. These were not browned…just cooked. The flavor was bland - although there was a strong backdrop of garlic (surprise!) which didn’t add anything to the overall experience. It may have been the first time I’ve ever left scallops uneaten on the plate. It wasn’t bad…just not very good.
All in all, the appetizers were the best part of the meal. And by the time we finished what we wanted from our entrees, both of us just wanted to leave and get the garlic taste out of our mouths. Uncharacteristically, we didn’t even stay for dessert.
The location was lovely, the table and view pretty, servers friendly, menu impressive and yet… I don’t see us going back again. We had been there once before a while ago. I recall ordering a steak dish and it coming with such an overpowering rosemary flavor that the dish should have been called rosemary flavored with beef. A pattern? Hard to say, but in my humble opinion the head chef needs to spend a little time in spice rehab, and learn to use seasonings to bring out the natural flavor of food. That way we can be dazzled with bold and BALANCED flavors.
I’ve heard many people rave about the Night Kitchen, so it’s entirely possible that we ordered the “wrong” dishes or were there on the “wrong night” (twice), but in my opinion, the food doesn’t live up to the hype nor warrant the prices being charged.

Bistro Les Gras

Bistro Les Gras has a soothing, comfortable look inside. Small, but not crowded, the feeling is intimate and gracious. The menu describes “hot” and “cold” starters, main plates and a few side dishes or “garnitures.”
The day we visited, we began with a hot starter, a pumpkin velouté soup with brown sugar croutons and sage oil. It was absolutely delicious and the essence of autumn in New England. Eyes closed, it wasn’t immediately identifiable as pumpkin as much as a mix of autumn root vegetables in a creamy, smooth, full-flavored experience. We were able to identify the pumpkin taste, along with carrot, and leek, and what we thought was a chicken base, and we relished every single spoonful. The Flan de Patate Douce - aka a savory sweet potato custard with a maple glazed ham crisp - was a cold starter. The flan tasted like a smoothly blended sweet potato but was a bit disappointing when it came to flavor punch. The ham crisp was delicious, and there was a tiny mix of baby greens in a wonderfully flavored citrus vinaigrette - but once the toppings were gone, the flan itself was too bland to really enjoy. On the other hand, next trip I will absolutely try one of their salads, because that fleeting taste of lemony dressing was something special.
Our third starter was sautéed mushrooms on toast with a poached egg. The toast was delightfully crisp and buttery, and the mushrooms were succulent and had a zing of sherry that added the perfect touch to the dish. The poached egg was cooked perfectly and when broken open, flowed in a golden river over the mushrooms and toast, adding a velvety texture and combining well with the other elements of the dish. Unfortunately, the poached egg was cold, which took away slightly from the overall experience. Given the surprising speed with which our three starters were delivered, I have to imagine that the eggs were pre-poached and standing by. I have no problem with that, especially when they are so well cooked – but warming is essential since the cool temperature jarred with the warm mushrooms and toasty brioche. Still, I’d recommend the dish and order it again with pleasure.
For dinner we chose the braised pork belly over flageolet beans with an apple relish, and a roasted half chicken over pommes purée with sauce chasseur. The pork belly dish was comfort food at its most extreme. In other words, it was not a light dish! The pork was meltingly tender, accompanied by savory beans, and the tart bit of apple added a refreshing zing to each bite. The only complaint we had was the look of the dish. Pork belly is unapologetically full of fat. But even when braised, it needs to look appealing to the eye, and instead of a browned or crispy top, it was presented with a grayish white layer of fat on top. Now mind you, we polished off every bite, but it wasn’t the most visually appealing dish. Particularly since the beans were also a grayish white and the apple relish almost invisible.
Our second entrée was the half chicken over mashed potato…excuse me “pommes purée,” with sauce chasseur - a sauté of tomatoes, onions and mushrooms. The half chicken was the tiniest half chicken I’ve ever seen – more like a game hen thigh and leg with a tiny piece of white meat attached. I don’t need a half chicken for an entrée, and the portion size was fine for a multi-course meal, but the description was misleading to say the least. It was served on a very large portion of potato, which was too loose and kind of blended with the enormous portion of sauce that filled the plate like a huge bowl of soup. The sauce was delicious but too much and too greasy, the potatoes were too much and too loose, and the chicken was unfortunately quite tough. Would I order it again? No. And I’d be leery of any chicken dish after the experience.
Now you’re wondering how two of us managed to polish off such a heavy meal, right? And I haven’t yet mentioned the side dish we couldn’t resist. Their pommes frites seem to be a consistent dish in an ever changing menu, and the wait person agreed that it was worth trying! So we did - and absolutely didn’t regret it. They were simply the best fries we’ve had in many, many years. Thin, with a tender center and crispy outside, and completely addictive, they were accompanied by a delicious house-made aioli.
And yes, of course we ordered dessert. After all, I felt we had a duty to report to you about the full Bistro Les Gras experience, so we took a deep breath and chose the sweet pumpkin mousse served with a sage tuile, and their daily selection of assorted confections and cookies. As I write this, I am transported back to the heady experience that was their mousse. Each silky smooth, sweet, pumpkin flavored spoonful was like manna from heaven. Better. Like what manna aspires to be. The only thing even more remarkable than the mousse was the ridiculously delicious sage cookie that accompanied it. Subtle, buttery, slightly chewy but still melt-in-your-mouth soft, the flavor was indescribable, unique and one of the best cookies I’ve ever eaten.
But the confection and cookie platter held a few more surprises for us. The homemade tiny éclairs were ethereal but satisfying, full of delicious vanilla custard and draped in deep, dark chocolate. The plate contained three other types of cookies - two of which were fine, but unremarkable. However, there were three itsy bitsy Madeline’s which once again, nearly defy description. Each tiny pillow popped in our mouths literally exploded with a bright, lemon flavor that was so unexpected and so delightful, it made us giggle. After we each ate one, I eyed my wife and wondered just how much she loved me. She nodded with a smile, and I popped the final one in my mouth, moaning with contentment and feeling loved inside and out.
So how to sum up the experience? We’ll definitely go back. The dishes were clearly uneven, but there were several which were so delicious, so flavorful, so unexpected, that we are eagerly anticipating our next trip. One of the exciting aspects of this new restaurant is that they change their entire menu every single month. That says a great deal about the passion and commitment of the owners and chefs and makes every visit a new adventure…a foodie’s dream. I’d love to hear what any of you thought. And if this review makes you consider the trip, take my advice - whatever else you order, don’t skip the pommes frites…and don’t miss dessert!

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.

Arigato in Amherst

The atmosphere in Arigato, the expanded Amherst Japanese restaurant, was a little odd and off-putting. Although polite and smiling, the staff radiated a palpable tension and distance that turned the ambiance somewhat stressful. The hard chairs and low tables added to the uneasy feeling, and the huge menu was overwhelming and difficult to decipher.

When we asked the hurried waiter (did they really need to be jogging with only seven tables full and at least four wait and sushi staff?) the difference between the two types of hot pots listed on the menu, his explanation was friendly but utterly incomprehensible. He seemed at such a loss to answer our questions that I backed off rather than increase both of our discomfort. Since we didn’t fully understand the two different categories of hot pot choices, we randomly selected one. The waiter returned several minutes later to tell us the dish was not available. When asked, he could not recommend something comparable. Given this was the second time we’d been unsuccessful at getting information, we gave up, chose a few more items at random, and hoped for the best.

While we waited for our order, three tiny complementary plates were placed on our table. The first contained a small pile of edamame, and we dove in with delight. The beans were briny, fresh and delicious. The second plate held a few fried items that were creamy and mild inside with a satisfying crunchy exterior. Tasty. The third contained tiny cubes of some sort of pickled vegetable. We think a couple of them were carrots but had no idea what the white cubes were. Delicious, though. At this point we cheered up considerably and waited with anticipation for our chosen dishes.

The various items we’d ordered were brought as they were ready. I can appreciate a restaurant that brings dishes when hot and ready, rather than storing items under a heat lamp. Everything was fresh and had clearly left the pan seconds earlier. Maybe that’s why the waiters raced around so much? We didn’t have a dedicated wait staff; one of several showed up periodically to deliver dishes or clear finished plates. Despite our pleasure at being served food at its peak, the service took on an impersonal feel, as though dealing with us was something to be dispensed with as quickly as possible.

Having enjoyed so much the tiny bowl of complimentary edamame, we had ordered an additional appetizer-sized portion. Strangely, it was not nearly as tasty or seasoned as the first. How could that be? We also ordered another portion of the fried delights. Once again we tried and asked what they were, but the response was a quizzical look. Maybe the waiter thought it was a silly question, or that I didn’t need to know more, or perhaps he was just too busy to stop to explain? I don’t know - and having asked yet another seemingly unanswerable question, I was left feeling uncomfortable. Again. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the mystery fried bits. The next dish, a steamed plate of shrimp gyoza, were the freshest I’ve ever tasted, with tiny bits of shrimp, tender dough and a marvelous dipping sauce. We ordered two types of sushi, one with smoked salmon and kiwi (hey, we said the choices were random) and another with tempura inside. The tempura hand roll was tasty and had a nice crunch contrasting against the rice, but the smoked salmon and kiwi roll had such a strong and fishy flavor as to be unpalatable. A plate of shrimp and vegetable tempura was crispy and light. The shrimp was good, but unfortunately it only came with one green bean, one piece of carrot and one piece of squash. One green bean?

We weren’t satisfied with the meal at that point and waved a waiter over to ask if we could order some negimaki (marinated skewered beef), but the waiter informed us with regret that it would take too long – close to 15 minutes. We asked if instead we could order yakitori (marinated skewered chicken), and he nodded his head negatively again. “No, that will take too long too,” he said. Did we look like we were in a hurry to leave? I suppose so. Who knows? Clearly, he was telling us it was time for us to go. All I can say is that my sense of awkwardness surged to the surface once again, and I knew with a certainty that I had clearly behaved inappropriately and been judged lacking. Self-consciously, I thanked the waiter (although I wasn’t sure for what). He nodded, relieved somehow, and ran off.

We sat there feeling slightly confused, guilty, and a little resentful. Within a few minutes we finished what was left on our table (except for a few pieces of the odd kiwi salmon roll) and then began waiting for the check. We tried to wave a few times but kept missing anyone. Finally a waiter arrived and asked if we hadn’t gotten our check yet? We said no, and it was delivered shortly thereafter. As I stepped outside the restaurant, I felt a distinct sense of relief combined with post-traumatic culinary stress.

As you may know, the only treatment for that kind of trauma and stress is cookies and ice cream. Plenty of both soothed our jangled nerves and made up for the disappointing experience dining out. Oh well. My wife often quotes the ancient proverb, “Every day cannot be a feast of lanterns.” Or, in this case, every meal.

Bistro 63 at the Monkey Bar

Does the term mixed bag sum up my thoughts about this restaurant? It did for me . . . that was, until last weekend.

In the past I’ve thoroughly enjoyed their salads. Beyond enjoyed – it became a salad destination for me. My favorite was mixed greens topped with asparagus, chopped artichoke hearts, grape tomatoes, and a vinaigrette dressing so flavorful it begged to be soaked up by the crusty French bread at the table. Then I discovered their goat cheese, mandarin orange, granny smith apple and walnut covered salad with a lemon vinaigrette that didn’t just wake up the taste buds – it got them standing at attention and cheering.

Another of my favorites has been their lobster corn chowder. While shy on the lobster, the sweet corn flavor, chunks of perfectly cooked potato, and thick and rich creamy texture was a guaranteed bowl of deliciousness. We’ve been at the restaurant a half dozen times and always enjoyed their salads and corn chowder and each time experimented with trying a few other dishes.

Some of the other dishes were good, some not so good. The seafood risotto, while a bit dense for my taste, has always tasted fresh and flavorful. Just the right amount of sweet tomato flavor, big chunks of lobster, scallops and shrimp, which are always cooked perfectly, and creamy rice that still has a nice bite to it. I appreciate their gentle hand with the parmesan, which results in a rich and balanced overall flavor. A one time choice of lemon flounder was unpleasant because of the large number of tiny bones in it. The lemon sauce was superb, although I would have appreciated more than one tablespoon of it on my plate. A filet mignon was disappointingly flavorless, and a shrimp and pasta special was so full of garlic chunks it was literally inedible. An appetizer platter with coconut shrimp, a spring roll and mixed cabbage sweet and sour salad was fairly standard – with the exception of the salad, which was perfectly spicy, tart and crunchy.

The prices are rather high, the service tends to be a bit neglectful, and clearly the entrees can be hit or miss. Still . . . the salads and chowder kept us coming back for more. Until last weekend.

Maybe the chef was off that night? Maybe there is a new chef? Maybe the magnetic poles weren’t aligned. I don’t know the reason. But when we ordered two of our favorite salads, we were appalled with what arrived. Instead of the advertised mixed greens, the goat cheese and fruit/walnut salad was sitting on top of a chiffonade of old, wilted spinach. It was not good at all and left a strong oxalic acid residue in the mouth. The lemon vinaigrette was somehow tasteless and vinegary at the same time. The asparagus and artichoke topped salad was slightly different than in the past, but with the addition of mushrooms and cucumbers. The artichokes were quartered rather than chopped. These differences shouldn’t have taken away from the salad, but somehow it negatively changed the character and mouth feel. The main villain in this culi-drama was the dressing. It was absolutely flavorless and tasted like plain oil. In desperation I added more and more salt, but just ended up creating a salty oil flavor.

I shouldn’t even dwell on the bread fiasco, but I will briefly share the horror that was our experience. The Monkey Bar delivers complimentary baskets of French bread toasted with garlic, oil, and various herbs, cheeses, tomatoes and toppings. Although my wife enjoys all of the various breads, I prefer plain bread (remember the soaking in dressing delight?). When ordering, I asked for a basket of plain bread and butter. The salads arrived ten minutes later, but no bread. We waited . . . waited. Finally, about ten minutes later, the server appeared with a basket of bread. She cheerfully exclaimed, “Here’s your plain bread!” She left me happy and relieved that we could finally dig in. Seconds later, I realized that it was not plain bread but grilled garlic bread – heavy on the garlic. Once again we waited forever for the waitress to reappear; so long, in fact, that, my wife actually got up and walked back to the kitchen to ask for plain bread. She came back to our table, pointed to the basked and repeated what she had been told, “That IS plain bread.” Now I may not be a rocket scientist, but I know when bread has been grilled with oil and garlic – toasty brown and aromatic, it doesn’t take a genius. At this point I said, “No, it’s not,” and was told by the man behind the bar (who shouted over to us), “We don’t have plain bread.”

Umm. What do they use to MAKE the garlic bread? But at this point I just wanted it all to go away like a bad dream. I nodded and smiled (it might have looked more like a grimace) and went to work on the salad. Well, you know how that part of the story turned out. A few minutes later, someone appeared with three slices of plain bread and triumphantly put them on our table. I guess I appreciated their searching high and low for plain bread, but the whole experience, topped with vinaigrette that had no business being sopped up by anything, left us both cranky and miserable.

We couldn’t finish the salads. When the chowder came, we sighed with relief – surely this would make up for the salad disappointment and bread fiasco. But things went from bad to worse. Our first clue should have been the odd phosphorescent yellow of the soup. Nevertheless, with the optimism born of a happy corn chowder history, we dove in. How can I explain the flavor? Neither of us could detect any corn or lobster flavor. A small bit of minced red substance in the center of the bowl indicated that some form of lobster may have been sprinkled on top, and we could see the corn kernels, but it was like a holographic projection with no taste to back it up. There were large chunks of potato and the texture was thick and creamy looking, albeit play dough yellow. But the flavor was . . . sour. Not spoiled or curdled, just weirdly sour. A sour broth with big chunks of overcooked potato. After a few spoonfuls, my wife gave up, laid her spoon down and said “I’m done.” I tried to go on . . . but soon thereafter gave up as well. It was so unpleasant. We were hungry, disappointed with the service, truly horrified with the food, and $40 poorer. Be warned.

Europa in South Hadley

I’d been looking forward to eating at Europa for some time. The concept of Tapas or small plates has always appealed to the part of me that wants to taste as many dishes as possible. Naturally, I had read through the menu several times prior to my visit to consider and anticipate the interesting dishes I’d order. My wife and I arrived and immediately argued about how many plates to order. She pointed to the statement on the menu that suggested that 2-3 tapas could be considered a main course. I pointed to the special offer of 4 dishes for $25. Clearly 4 wouldn’t be sufficient for the two of us (I argued); therefore it only made sense to order 8. She sighed, knowing she would lose this one.

The restaurant was relatively empty on this weekend night, and the wait staff was attentive and gracious. We sat at a lovely curved booth with a large table designed to accommodate many plates. The first two things to arrive were the salad and a basket of bread. The salad was delicious – fresh greens, juicy grape tomatoes and light, crisp croutons that had crunch but still melted in your mouth. The balsamic vinaigrette was absolutely wonderful, and we particularly enjoyed soaking the accompanying bread in the vinaigrette. Note – the bread basket was filled with a combination of boring, dry, less than standard rolls, as well as the most wonderful homemade rustic white bread I’ve had since I was a child. When we questioned the wait staff, they explained that Mike’s (the owner’s) mother made the crusty white bread herself, and when we requested it, another plate of mom’s bread was promptly delivered to the table. I should mention that the bread bowl was accompanied by an olive tapenade made of unusually flavorful calamata olives (my wife’s favorite), and she dove in happily, licking her fingers after every morsel she devoured.

Two at a time our dishes began to arrive. Various wait staff appeared at reasonably spaced intervals to deliver each new offering. Our first two dishes were the pork pinchos (a Spanish marinated pork kebab with cucumber sauce) and herbed goat cheese grilled shrimp with presunto (a kind of prosciuotto ham) in a balsamic vinaigrette. Yes, it was the same as the vinaigrette from the house salad, and we soaked up the remainder of the bread with it! The shrimp was slightly overdone, and the presunto flavor strong enough to overwhelm the delicate seafood, but when all the elements were combined with the cheese and sauce, it was a bright burst of flavor and a tasty starter. I’d recommend it. Although it arrived looking delicious, the pork kebab had a thick coating of spices on the meat that resulted in an unpleasant texture when eaten.

Next we were presented with lollipop lamb chops in surprisingly tangy orange vinaigrette. The combination of perfectly cooked lamb with the orange sauce and boursin cheese was a delightful flavor treat, and we rolled the chops around to soak up as much of the vibrant orange sauce as we could. The spanakopita was a disappointment. An overabundance of spinach and a tiny amount of filo resulted in a soggy mess. While the red pepper sauce it sat in was adequate tasting, it worsened the sogginess and did nothing for the overall flavor.

The Mediterranean flat bread was a welcome platter of crisp bread, sweet caramelized onion, sweet grape tomatoes, flavorful feta, delicious calamata olives (“same as the ones from the tapenade,” my wife exclaimed) and more of that terrific balsamic vinaigrette. No, we weren’t tired of it. It was fortunate that the flat bread was so wonderful because it came with a plate of lobster Rangoon that was swimming in an unpleasantly strong and bitter curry sauce, making that dish a low point for me.

The next two tapas to arrive were both seafood. We first sampled the salt cod fritters in a romesco sauce. It was a generous portion of crispy fritters filled with the potato cod mixture but was just okay - what we expected, but nothing particularly unusual or flavorful. The sauce was not one of our favorites either. The second fish dish was a truly enormous piece of Basa filet crusted in almonds accompanied by a generous amount of the same romesco sauce. Sadly, size doesn’t matter when fish is so terribly overcooked and dry as to be literally inedible.

We ended our meal with rice pudding, since we felt we needed comfort to make up for the disappointing final fish dishes. Comforting it was, but surprising as well. The tart lemon kick in the pudding was unexpected and lifted the traditional dessert to another level, and we polished off every bite and licked our spoons. Presentation was fanciful, as well, with a fork impression on lemon peel dust scattered on the plate. Taste is everything of course, but creative presentation makes us happy too.

All in all, it was a fun experience. Attentive staff (who worried each time we didn’t finish a plate of food), a few stand out dishes, and lots of exciting flavors and tastes. On the other hand, with almost half of the dishes disappointing us, it’s probably not a place we’d return. Unless Mike’s mom starts selling loaves of her bread – we’d absolutely go back to buy that at least once a week!