Having A Meal At The Mothership

Even though Bricco Restaurant opened in downtown Akron in 2003, my first visit ever made to this local chain was at their Cleveland location back in 2008, located across from Playhouse Square. Since then, I've eaten numerous times at Cafe Bricco and Pub Bricco, but never managed in the nine years since the original opened to eat at the Akron location. Last Thursday I decided to complete the cycle -- sometimes it takes a while to go full circle.

The original Bricco Restaurant was located in downtown Akron at 1 West Exchange Street, Akron, OH 44308 and can be reached at 330-475-1600. Valet parking was available, but I opted to park on the street about a quarter mile down Exchange Street and walk to the restaurant. Since it was after 6 PM, there was no cost to park on the street.

I worried slightly that a walk-in for dinner on a Thursday night might have meant a bit of a wait. While the restaurant was fairly busy when I arrived, fortunately, there were a smattering of tables that had yet to be sat. The host left me with the regular dinner menu as well as wine and cocktail menus to examine:



If you examine the menu a little more closely, you'll catch one of my pet peeves of menu writing: capitalization of the key words in the descriptions. This annoys me on two levels. First, it breaks up the reading flow by making the eye stop on certain words (which I suppose is the point). But, it also strikes me as a bit foolhardy to think that you consider your customers not capable of deciphering your menu, so they have to pre-digest it for you.

After placing my order, my server brought out the bread service:


As I unfolded the napkin, I was rewarded to find multiple slices of thickly cut white bread. I decide to make use of my bread plate:


While the bread was fresh and tasty, it wasn't exceptional. The crust had a nice chew to it, but the crumb wasn't particularly remarkable. The butter had been whipped and sweetened slightly and spread easily on the bread.

As I was dining solo tonight, I wanted to experience as much of the menu as possible without going overboard. For my appetizer, I decided to go with the Fried Risotto Balls in Marinara:


While more classically known as arancini, tonight's risotto balls were filled with a mixture of smoked mozzarella and pancetta. Crispy on the outside and creamy on the inside, these were quite good and I found myself enjoying the contrast of the fattiness of the smoked cheese against the acidity of the tomato sauce. The only criticism I could really levy against this dish was that the pancetta was a bit few and far between.

In keeping along the lines of trying as much off the menu as I could, I was pleased to see that all of the salads were offered at both full-sized and half-sized portions. I decided to follow up my arancini with the smaller portion of the Baby Spinach Salad:


I am a firm believer that a properly "dressed" salad is one in which all of the leaves get a thin, even coating of the dressing. This is why whenever I dine in a restaurant where I think this won't be the case, I ask for the dressing on the side. At restaurants of Bricco's caliber, however, I trust that the individual running the garde manger station (i.e., "cold line") will properly dress the salad leaves. If you take a closer look at the picture above, you'll notice the same thing I did -- namely that the baby spinach leaves were dressed very unevenly. In fact, most of the leaves toward the front and right side weren't even dressed at all. Not a good start.

I tasted individual components of the dish before building a forkful with each flavor and texture. While the slight sweetness from the maple bacon vinaigrette came through, none of the smoke or porky flavor from the bacon was evident in my mouthful. The white cheddar was a nice touch, but the overwhelming sweetness from the candied walnuts dominated the other flavors. The roasted squash didn't really bring a lot of flavor to the party, but it did add a surprising crunch that one normally wouldn't associated with a vegetable that had been roasted. Overall, I didn't particularly enjoy this course of my meal.

For my main course, I decided to go with the Pan-Seared Scallops and Grilled Shrimp:


Served with a apple, bacon, and bacon risotto, the plate also contained tender haricot verts and a buerre blanc. The plating of the dish was a bit one-sided (as you can see from the picture above) and struck me as a tad odd. I would have thought that distributing the scallops and shrimp around the risotto might have been a better choice.

As for flavors, I started with the scallops. As I sliced into the beautifully caramelized exterior of the first scallop, I was rewarded with a lovely translucent interior. The scallops were perfectly seasoned and cooked. The grilled shrimp were also excellently seasoned, but had just a hint of chewiness to them, indicating that they were overcooked just slightly. The haricot verts were seasoned well and had both a softness and crispness to them. The risotto, this time around in its original more liquid form, was creamy, soft, and delicious. There was one bite where it came across as too salty, but it must have been a bite where there was a lot of bacon on the fork as I couldn't replicate it. The buerre blanc, while pairing nicely with the seafood, didn't really add that much to the rest of the dish.

When my server mentioned dessert to me, I was a bit wary about having anything too heavy or rich. Even though I had asked my server to box up half of my appetizer and entree, I was still feeling pretty full. When I indicated that I'd at least be willing to look at the dessert menu, my server proceeded to rattle off a list of tired and predictable stand-ins from decades ago: two flavors of NY-style cheesecake, creme brulee, and the classic, warm chocolate lava cake. All of these were made in-house. The two frozen items, a peach-mange gelato and a sorbet (whose flavor I cannot remember now) were made by an outside local company, Country Parlour.

Figuring that a nice gelato and a cup of decaf might make an enjoyable way to end the meal, I decided on taking that route. While waiting for my dessert to arrive, I pulled up the website for Country Parlour and then, curious to see what other flavors of gelato they had, I navigated to the page containing their flavors. I discovered two VERY interesting things. First, their webpage of flavors didn't list gelato of any kind ... Italian ice, yes, gelato, no. The second was that regardless of the type of frozen dessert, none of them were of the peach-mango variety. Perhaps Bricco was having Country Parlour make something special that only they served.

Right around this time, my dessert and coffee arrived:


While I was impressed with the quantity of the serving, visually, this looked unimpressive. I was expecting several nicely rounded balls of gelato, instead I received a bowl full of frozen wedges. One of the hallmarks of fruit-based gelati is their intensity of flavor. The peach flavor was evident upon taking my first bite, but the intensity wasn't there. Because peach and mango share similar flavor profiles, it is easy to see why pairing them would be a good idea. The mango was imperceptible at the start of the mouthful, and was only barely there at the finish, due to the slight acidic flavor of the mango. In the end, it was still a nice way to end a meal, if not fully meeting my expectations.

When the final check came, I wasn't surprised that my total, with tax, came to a little bit north of $41. While I would say this was on the moderately expensive side of the dining options available, there were enough positive points regarding tonight's dinner that I would still recommend them. Other than the arancini I received for my appetizer course, the one standout criticism I would say concerned me the most was attention to the fine details -- salads that aren't completely dressed and plates that look unbalanced are unimpressive at the level which Bricco seeks to reside. In the end, I think Bricco adds a nice, upscale Italian food restaurant to the downtown Akron dining scene, but it would do them wise to pay attention to every plate that comes out of the kitchen.

Filing My TPS Report at The Office Bistro

I find it interesting that after writing on this blog for the last two and a half years (has it been that long already?), I am in the unique position now of being solicited by restaurant owners, chefs, or general managers who actually want me to come to their establishment and do a review. I have to laugh a little bit at this because had I ever thought this would have been even a remote possibility when I started doing restaurant reviews, I'm sure my ego would've swelled to fill the room. I don't know that I think of myself as famous in any way (I eat my pasta one forkful at a time after all), but acknowledging that I now seem to have a certain level of notoriety is an entertaining notion to me.

Several weeks ago, Steve Turner from The Office Bistro and Lounge (Facebook fan page here) contacted me via email and asked if I would review his restaurant. Located at 778 North Main Street in Akron, Ohio, I had driven by The Bistro hundreds, if not thousands, of times since I moved back to Akron in 2004. While the notion of stopping there for a meal had crossed my mind once or twice, I simply had not done it yet. I replied to Steve that I would be happy to review the restaurant, but I made it clear that I would come unannounced and it could be weeks or months before I did so. He joking replied that he would prefer to know exactly when I planned to arrive so he could send out a carefully selected and prepared (and paid for) meal. Having set his expectations, I waited several weeks before giving serious thought to stopping by.

This past Monday night, as I was leaving from work, I decided to stop in for dinner. Parking was available on Main Street as well as in a small lot behind the building. Here was a shot of the front of the restaurant:


There were several doors that appeared to be associated with The Office; only the one on the far right actually opened. As I entered from the street, I found myself in the lounge area. To get to the restaurant, I simply walked to the back of the lounge and waited at the entrance to the restaurant portion of the building (there was a sign asking customers to wait to be seated). Being a Monday night, I was surprised to find the restaurant pretty full, although this was tempered with the fact that the restaurant itself was fairly small to begin with. After being seated, my server left me with the menu to peruse:







As you can see from the pictures, the menu was fairly diverse, drawing from a number of influences, including Cajun/Creole, Italian, Greek, and American. While I pondered what to order, my server returned to tell me that the soups of the day were a hot curried carrot and a chilled cucumber avocado. Thinking that a cup of soup might just be a perfect way to start my meal, I went with a cup of the curried carrot:


One bite and I could tell that the soup had been finished with heavy cream because of the way it coated my tongue. The flavor of the soup was tasty, but the two predominant flavors, carrots and curry, were a bit muted. The only way I was sure that it actually was a carrot soup was the occasional piece of cooked carrot easily dissolved on my tongue and the unfortunate presence of rather tough, fibrous shards of carrot that remained after the soup was pureed:


Granted, some diners might not be annoyed with these fibrous bits, but to me it was the same sensation as getting a hair in you mouth, irritating and requiring immediate removal. I got about halfway through my soup before becoming annoyed enough at having to pick out the fibers from every spoonful.

A few minutes after giving up on my soup, my entree arrived, followed shortly after with a basket containing biscuits and a small ramekin of butter:


My server actually called these "rolls," but they were more biscuit-like. Actually, they were somewhere between a biscuit and a cake in terms of texture. The butter was nicely softened and spread easily and for the most part the biscuits were a bit unusual in that they were infused with a black pepper spiciness, but they also ran a touch to the dry side, too. It certainly wasn't a bad biscuit, just not a stellar one. I'm guessing fresh out of the oven, these would be pretty tasty.

For my entree, I decided to order the Seared Scallops in Sweet Tobasco Blanc with Mushroom, Asparagus, and Prosciutto Risotto:


As I was reading today's news on my smartphone, I saw my server approaching my table with something in her hand out of the corner of my eye. As I turned to look at her fully, I realized that she was leaving a trail of sauce drips in her wake. Even though she was only carrying one plate, it was tilted in such a way that the corner that was being gripped with her thumb was slightly lower than the rest of the plate and the sauce was making its journey to floor and table alike. While her thumb swimming in the sauce from my entree was my first concern, I quickly realized that it wouldn't be my only one.

Here was a close-up of the seared scallops, sauced with a sweet tobasco blanc:


While the menu didn't specifically say buerre blanc, by using the word blanc, I assumed that was what the sauce was supposed to be. And classically, buerre blanc is often served with seafood because the rich, buttery sauce plays well off the delicate flavor of the seafood. Done right, it is luxurious, sinful, and quite delicious. Consistency-wise, it should be thinner than a sauce hollandaise, but much thicker than say, a jus or pan drippings. Unfortunately, tonight's sauce was thin and watery and lacked substantial body. The scallops themselves were seasoned simply with salt and pepper and while cooked perfectly with a lovely translucent interior, the aggressive salting resulted in them losing their inherent sweetness.

Paired with the scallops was a mushroom, asparagus, and prosciutto risotto:


Had this been described as a cheesy rice casserole with mushroom, asparagus, and ham, this dish would have succeeded marvelously. As a risotto, however, this side dish fell into the Olive Garden interpretation of what a proper risotto should be. The rice traditionally used in risotto, the short-grained Arborio, releases starch as it is cooked and stirred, naturally thickening the dish. At the very end of the process and right before service, a small amount (key word: small) of cheese can be added to not only heighten the umami intensity of the dish, but a touch of creaminess as well. Too much cheese and you end up with a stiff mound of rice sitting on the plate, not a softly cascading and still slightly liquid pile of creamy rice ready to tantalize your palate.

That being said, the mushrooms and asparagus were cooked well and added a nice texture and flavor to the side dish, but I do take issue with the prosciutto. Based on how thickly cut the prosciutto was and its flavor and texture, it more closely resembled traditional American ham and not so much the Italian delicacy of prosciutto. While the astute among you might point out that both American ham and prosciutto are cured pork products, I will defend my position by saying that prosciutto is usually shaved impossibly thin and is marbled with lovely packets of sweet, white fat. As such, it has a very delicate taste to it. Tonight's prosciutto, along with its thicker cut than normal, was missing those blobs of cured fat. Like I said, as a cheesy rice casserole with mushrooms, asparagus, and ham, this would be a satisfying dish that lived up to its description on the menu. As an Italian risotto with mushrooms, asparagus, and prosciutto ... not so much.

I finished most of my entree and when my server checked in to see if I would like dessert, I politely declined and asked for the check. My meal tonight, while not a wallet-buster, was also no slouch at $26 including tax. The scallop and risotto entree itself was essentially $22. I realize that there are those who would complain that $22 is too much for something you could get at Red Lobster for $12, but I am the first one to acknowledge that good raw ingredients cost money and I'm willing to pay $22 when I know I can get better ingredients prepared correctly. While the scallops themselves were cooked perfectly, there were quite a few other execution problems with the dish that bothered me. Were I to select from the menu again, I probably wouldn't repeat this one. Other than the thumb in the sauce incident, service was quick and polite.

In the end, would I recommend The Office Bistro and Lounge based on this one visit? Yes, but barely. Nothing tasted bad to the point I would have sent it back to the kitchen to fix it, but there were some obvious execution errors in both the soup and the entree. And while The Office is not the most expensive menu in Akron, it is also by no means inexpensive either. That being said, there was a kernel of understanding in what flavors worked well together and that has me curious to return for another visit.

In the end, I'd be an idiot to not think that Mr. Turner would have preferred a glowing review of my experience at his restaurant. And all things being equal, I would have loved to give it to him. This is exactly the kind of establishment that I love to find and promote to hungry Akronites and Clevelanders looking for a tasty meal that would prefer avoiding national chains. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, it is what it is; those were the cards I was dealt. Now the question becomes, is publicity, even less than ideal publicity, better than none at all?

Third Time's A Charm At South Market Bistro

Up until now, I have not had good success in obtaining a meal from Wooster's South Market Bistro. The first time I went, I had mistakenly used information from the Yahoo page I looked up on the Internet and hadn't verified that they still had lunch hours. Upon showing up to their doorstep (yes, yes, gentle reader, I should've called to confirm) for a mid-day meal, I quickly learned that no, they did not have lunch hours. Of course, this led to the wonderful discovery of both the Broken Rocks Bakery & Cafe and Tulipan Pastry & Coffee Shop just across the street. My second attempt at having a meal at South Market fared no better. While I did show up during the correct business hours, unfortunately, the entire restaurant had been booked for a special event and they weren't able to accommodate guests not on the list. Sigh.

So now, more than a year later, I decided to give my luck just one more try and showed up on a Friday night at 5:45 PM with no reservation. I hoped that I would be early enough that I could slip in and out before the tables filled up. As I drove past the restaurant, I was happy to see that most of the tables by the front window were devoid of patrons: a good sign (at least for me). I parked on the street and walked north about a block until I was standing outside the front entrance to the restaurant:


South Market Bistro was located at 151 South Market Street, Wooster, OH 44691 and can be reached at 330-264-3663. Parking was pretty much wherever you could find it, but fortunately, if you manage to find a spot on the street, there appears to be a generous three hour limit, so you shouldn't feel rushed to get in and out.

As I walked in the front door, I was greeted with a single room, longer than wide, and an semi-open kitchen at the rear of the room just past a small bar area. As my eyes adjusted to the new level of light, I realized that other than myself, there were only two other patrons currently in the restaurant and they were both sitting on stools at the bar. Unless the restaurant had lots of clients showing up right at 6:00 PM, I reasoned that accommodating a walk-in would be just fine. One of the servers greeted me with a smile and when I asked if they had room for me, she responded with an enthusiastic, "Absolutely." I have a funny feeling that her enthusiasm was due more to the time of my walk-in as a four top did the same thing an hour later and there was some consternation as to whether they could be sat. Handling walk-ins can be a tricky affair since you want to accommodate everyone without penalizing other customers who took the time to call and make a reservation.

Regardless, the server showed me to my table, told me of the daily specials, and left me with a menu to examine:




One of the draws of South Market Bistro was chef and owner Michael Mariola's focus on using local, seasonal ingredients in his dishes. The restaurant's menu felt small in some ways (at only two pages), but looking through the courses, there were at least four or five dishes in each category from which to select. I guess I've gotten so jaded over the years from having to make selections from menus that have entire pages (or two) dedicated to just chicken entrées that finding a menu which was succinct, yet complete, was quite refreshing.

While pondering my dinner choices tonight, my server brought over the bread and butter. Here was a shot of the pre-sliced breads thoughtfully served on a wooden carving board:


As soon as she sat the board down in front of me, I was highly suspicious of the bread on the left. Even though it had been a year and a half since I had eaten it, it looked very much like the European sourdough breads that Broken Rocks was serving. The minute I picked it up, inhaled deeply and took a bite, I was convinced it was the one and very same. The bread to the right was a thinly sliced focaccia with rosemary and crunchy grains of sea salt. When my server stopped back in to take my order, I think I surprised her a little when I asked if the sourdough had come from Broken Rocks. She admitted that it did and then further went on to tell me that the focaccia was made in-house. Both were absolutely tasty and fresh.

Along with my bread, a triangular wedge of softened butter accompanied the board in a small bowl:


I did try the butter on a bit of the sourdough and it tasted, well, buttery. But as Broken Rocks sourdough bread was a truly fantastic bread all on its own, I ended up using very little of the butter.

Seeing as all of the entrées came with a house salad, I decided to order a starter. As I scanned the menu for something suitable, I came across what the menu described as "mussels and fries," but I knew far better as moules frites. Having had this dish at several other Cleveland eateries (including L'Albatros Brasserie), I was excited to try South Main Bistro's version. I was a little concerned because of my disdain for poorly executed hand cut fries, but I put my trust in the kitchen.

After only a short time, I saw my dish placed on the pass and my server grabbed it and walked it over to my table. As she set it down, some pretty amazing scents wafted upward:


Consisting of mussels steamed open in a wine and butter broth with the addition of garlic, leeks, and spinach, it was then topped with super crispy slightly thicker than shoestring fries. The smell was amazing. As I dug into my first shell and retrieved the small nugget of mussel meat, I was rewarded with an incredibly tender and flavorful bite of food. I next turned my attention to the fries. They had clearly been seasoned when they came out of the fryer as the salt was nicely distributed along the entire surface of the fries, not just on the top. I tasted my fries and came upon what would turn out to be a theme running throughout tonight's dinner: salt. The chef running the kitchen liked aggressive seasoning. Not overly salted where I would send it back, but probably more salty than I personally would've used.

Regardless, I hoovered up every last mussel and fry and then used the leftover sourdough bread to mop up as much of the steaming broth as I could muster. It really was that good. Toward the end of my appetizer, I heard my waitress talking to a nearby table who obviously saw what I had ordered and asked her about it. When I overheard her say that the mussels were accompanied with the restaurants signature truffled fries, I thought to myself, "Did I miss something? None of these fries had any truffle flavor of any kind to them."

In fact, when she stopped by to pick up my empty plate, I asked her specifically about the statement she had made to the other table and she confirmed that they were indeed truffled fries. I didn't disagree with her, but it did make me think that maybe I should've tasted them more carefully. I reviewed the photograph of the menu I had taken earlier on my smartphone camera and the menu listing said nothing of truffled fries, even though they were available as a side item.

The mystery was solved when she returned with my house salad with mustard vinaigrette:


It seems that when she took my plate back to the kitchen, she actually asked the chef and he confirmed that the fries served with the mussels were simply seasoned with salt. Phew! I thought my taste buds had taken a hiatus on me. As I turned my attention to my salad, I was happy to see that the greens were only lightly dressed. The croutons appeared to be a small dice of the focaccia I had eaten earlier and then toasted. Several thoughts popped into my head when I started to eat the greens.

While I could definitely tell that the greens were dressed, I got almost no flavor from the vinaigrette. This let the bitterness from the greens shine through. The olives, a welcome addition, added mouthfuls of more salt. On the occasion when I would get a crouton or two, I would get more hits of salt and rosemary. So, as I sat there and ate the salad, the two flavors that kept returning to me were bitterness and salt (there it was again). I don't know that I would call this salad unbalanced, but it definitely could've used a sweet component to it, perhaps some dried fruit.

When my server stopped to check in on me, I asked her which of the gentlemen in the kitchen was in charge.

"Oh, that would be Eric."
"Eric?" I responded. "I thought Mike Mariola was the chef."

She then proceeded to tell me how he rarely spends much time in South Market Bistro anymore after their sister restaurant The City Square Steakhouse opened up two years ago across the street. And, in fact, the chef wasn't spending much time there either since he was looking to open up a new venture, a beer and burger joint, in Fairlawn fairly soon. So, it seemed that he left Eric in charge of the kitchen at South Market Bistro with Eric's wife Liz taking care of various front of house tasks (bartending, hostessing, managing).

She returned just a few minutes later with the risotto I had ordered for my entrée:


Layered into the risotto were some of the same Killbuck Valley shiitake mushrooms I had eaten before at the AMP 150 Mushroom Dinner, fresh spring peas, corn, Mascarpone, garlic, and Parmesan. In addition to the ingredients listed on the menu, fresh greens and carrots had been folded into the risotto as well and it had been topped with a fine chiffonade of fresh tarragon. While I could have had the kitchen add some grilled shrimp for a small upcharge, I decided to go with the vegetarian version that was listed on the menu.

Texturally, this risotto was about as perfect as they come. Creamy, rich, and with just a little resistance in the rice, the bowl of starchy goodness didn't fail to deliver. The individual components such as the corn and green peas exploded with just a bit of vegetal sweetness when I tasted them. This sweetness was critical because as my previous two courses had been, the risotto was once again aggressively seasoned. At first I thought it was okay, but as I dug around to find one of the mushrooms to try on its own, I realized that it had given up its own earthy flavor and had been overtaken by salt.

While I had been fine with the prominence of salty flavor in my first two courses, by this point, I think my tongue must have been suffering from salt fatigue as I only managed to get about half-way through this, even with multiple refills on my water. Of course, the risotto had been quite filling, too, but I knew that I could've eaten more. I chose to stop on purpose because I didn't want to be chugging bottles of water after leaving the restaurant.

I chose to skip dessert today, but managed to get a photograph of the dessert menu so that you could see what was available:


It seemed that Jenis ice creams and sorbets were featured prominently on the menu and while I am a HUGE fan, knowing that I will be stopping in for my yearly fix at the upcoming Ohio Linuxfest in Columbus coming soon, I declined to indulge tonight and simply asked for my check instead. My meal tonight, with tip and tax, came out to roughly $35. Which, for a three course meal, wasn't a terrible deal. I will proffer that I selected one of the more inexpensive entrées, however, and the meat courses will run you about $10 more.

It was clear from my meal that Chef Eric was not afraid of using salt; indeed he was incredibly consistent with it. While this works well for some chefs (such as Jonathon Sawyer at the Greenhouse Tavern), tonight's dinner was truly teetering on the precipice of excessiveness. Which was a shame because the flavors and textures of my food were simply marvelous and were it not for that one issue, I would be jumping up and down, flagging down complete strangers on the street, telling them to make the drive to Wooster to check out this quaint little bistro with its big flavors and seasonal menu. While every other part about my experience tonight was excellent, timidity with seasoning in the kitchen will get you about as far as excessive boldness; a happy medium should be where the restaurant needs to strive.

The Devil Is In The Details

As a longtime reader of this blog, you might have wondered why I write multiple posts about a single restaurant. Often times, it will simply be a matter of expounding on dishes from the menu that I hadn't had in previous visits. Sometimes it will be because a new menu or a new special has premiered. Every now and again it will be because something has changed, for the better or worse, and I think it prudent for me to tell you because it might affect whether or not you will choose to spend your hard-earned dollars at the dining establishment in question.

Another possibility is that many of the restaurants I consistently return to are chosen due to convenience. They are either close to where I live or a reasonable deviation from my driving route to and from work. This leaves other restaurants, ones that I've had positive meals at, to be relegated to the once or twice a year schedule. Such was my meal tonight when I returned to Prime at Anthe's on Manchester Road (Rt. 93) in Akron, Ohio. After discovering a completely revamped menu and much improved dining experience a little over a year ago, tonight the thought of returning for another great meal popped in my head as I headed home from work.

The last two times I wrote about Prime at Anthe's, I had praised the food I was served as being hot, tasty, and reasonably priced given the level of cuisine. I was definitely looking forward to a repeat experience. Before going into the review, I should warn you, gentle reader. I wanted to just say that my experience tonight was mostly in-line with previous visits. The food was hot and delicious. That being said, knowing how good past visits have been, I was a little more hypercritical than normal.

I gambled showing up on a Wednesday night at 7 pm without a reservation; fortunately, they weren't too busy. I was seated by the long window in the bar area, with just enough sunlight left outside to be able to go flash-free on my camera. After settling me at my table, my server filled me in on the daily specials and left me with the menu to decide what I wanted for dinner.

Soon she returned with the Prime at Anthe's signature side dishes, the bean salad:


And several of their homemade sourdough rolls:


I won't go into elaborate descriptions of either of these (because I've already done it) except to say that tonight's version was definitely on par with previous visits.

On tonight's specials menu, two appetizers were being offered. First were chicken wings, which, oddly seemed to be a little too low brow for a place like Prime at Anthe's. Second were fried oysters served over a bed of fried spinach and served with a chipotle aioli. Now that definitely sounded interesting.

Not exactly knowing what I wanted for my entrée, I went ahead and placed an order for the oysters while I finished making up my mind. Here was a shot of the oysters when they arrived at my table:


The oysters had been batter dipped and deep-fried. They outer coating was shatteringly crisp and they were not at all greasy. The seasoning was also spot on. My only real complaint was that because there was so much batter (and I do love fried batter), the flavor of the oyster got a little lost. Whereas the fried oysters worked well in the dish, the fried spinach didn't work as well for me. The spinach was definitely crispy, but compared to the expertly-fried oysters, it was a bit too greasy and underseasoned. It was a lovely color contrast to the oysters and aioli, but there was just too much of it. Perhaps doing a chiffonade of fried spinach and sprinkling it over the top of the oysters would've been a more effectual way to garnish the plate.

The chipotle aioli sat at the center of the plate:


Before tasting the oysters, I dipped the tines of my fork into the sauce and tasted it. I was quite surprised at what I tasted. While definitely creamy (and a nice foil for the crispy oysters), what I didn't taste was the smokiness from the chipotle peppers. Quick to check on my culinary knowledge, I looked up the Wikipedia page for chipotle chiles and confirmed that yes, a chipotle was a smoked, dried jalapeño chile. What I tasted in its place, and was certainly confirmed by the presence of bright red chili pieces in the sauce, was the presence of a sweet chili sauce, much like the kind I've used in the past in my own cooking. I tasted the dip several times to confirm my discovery and even asked my server a second time to confirm that the dip was supposed to be a chipotle aioli. Regardless of this nomenclature issue, the sauce was actually quite tasty and worked well with the fried oysters.

When my server had stopped at my table to drop off my appetizer, I had decided to order the Pan-Fried Walleye with a side of the creamy risotto. Knowing that I was already getting full from the pre-appetizer beans and roll and then most of my appetizer, I asked my server if she wouldn't mind boxing my salad to go so that I could eat it later. She agreed and later on that night I enjoyed a mixed green salad with their homemade red wine vinaigrette. Sadly, I forgot to take a picture before starting, but while the salad was tasty and fresh, there wasn't anything particularly unusual about it.

While waiting for the kitchen to prepare my entrée, I sat and listened to the piano player the restaurant had hired for the evening. Shortly thereafter, my entrée arrived:


Here was a close-up of the pan-seared walleye with a bacon, leek, and scallion cream sauce ladled over the fillet:


Since the sauce had only been ladled over the middle of the fillet, I was able to taste a bite of fish from each end of the fillet. I was happy to discover that on the thicker end of the walleye, it was cooked to perfection. Moist, juicy and just translucent, the fish melted in my mouth. Sadly, the fish at the thicker end wasn't seasoned enough. Conversely, the thinner end yielded a drier piece of fish, but more properly seasoned. Fortunately the sauce on top of the fish had enough salt that when combined with the thicker pieces, it lent enough salinity to correct the seasoning on the fish.

Next to the walleye was a large mound of creamy risotto:


While most risottos feature a signature flavor, Prime at Anthe's version lacked a distinctive flavor other than from the Parmesan cheese. The taste of the risotto was good, but the texture bordered on being a cheesy rice casserole instead of a risotto. Many people forget that most of the creaminess in a risotto comes from the starch in the rice released during the cooking process rather than the cheese added at the very end. As I lifted a forkful of risotto from the plate, cheese strands were short, but clearly visible. This told me that much of the creaminess that Prime at Anthe's was hoping to achieve was through the use of extra cheese and not from the starches that are naturally released during cooking.

Lastly, the only remaining items on the plate were the lemon wedge and the cup of homemade tartar sauce:


The lemon wedge was understandable as there was a lot of cream and cheese on my plate tonight and a little bit of acidity could bring balance if I chose to use it. The tartar sauce really threw me, however. Traditionally served with fried fish, it seemed superfluous with tonight's selection, especially given that the fish was served with a reduced cream sauce. While I have nothing against the tartar sauce, per se, and in fact I've had it with other meals here at Prime and it was quite good, it definitely felt oddly out of place on tonight's plate.

I know that picking on the choice of whether to include a cup of tartar sauce may sound hypercritical (and, hey, I did warn you up front, didn't I?). My explanation is that Prime at Anthe's is poised at a price and quality point where every single component on a plate needs to be evaluated. It isn't enough to just have the food taste good, but everything on the place must harmonize with each other and have a point in being there.

After asking for the remainder of my meal to be boxed up, I paid the check, left a business card with a short note to the chef on the back questioning the name "chipotle aioli" and walked back out into the now menacing skyline, threatening to unleash a torrent of rain that would come just a short time later.

While I enjoyed my meal tonight at Prime at Anthe's, there were a few things that I felt were off. Cleveland is blessed with a myriad of really great mid to high-end restaurants. In Akron, I feel we are not quite as blessed with the vast selection, so when I find the gems, I like to hang on to them. When people ask me for Akron-based selections, I have in the past and will continue to recommend Prime at Anthe's, despite the reaction I get from most people who thought that the restaurant had lost its sparkle many, many years ago. I want people to experience the same wonder and amazement I have enjoyed over the last year. My nitpicking, while admittedly a little annoying, is simply my way of pointing out to the kitchen staff that even though they are producing some solid dishes, with just a little bit more tweaking, the results could go from pretty darn good to fantastic.

An Outrageous Meal At Ken Stewart's Lodge?

In a rather bold move, I decided to take on the second of three Ken Stewart restaurants tonight. As with my visit to Tre Belle just a few short weeks ago, I pulled into the rather full parking lot on a Tuesday evening at 7 P.M. with no reservation. While I was initially worried, when I saw only one couple dining out on the patio, I figured that if the interior was completely full, at least I'd be able to eat outside.

As I walked into the front door of Ken Stewart's Lodge, only a few feet from the entrance of Tre Belle, I was greeted with a surprising lack of light. In fact, it was so dim inside the restaurant that I felt almost blind walking down the main entranceway to the hostess stand. When my eyes finally adjusted, I realized that the old interior that used to be Little Joe's had been revamped to bring a northwest lodge feel to it. I was initially concerned that my photographs would come out terrible in such a low light environment and when the hostess asked if I wanted to dine out on the patio this evening, I quickly agreed.

The hostess led me to a smaller table over by the couple I had seen when first walking up to the front door. As I sat down, I realized that it was really a perfect night to be eating al fresco. Here was a shot of the patio from my table:


The sun was lingering behind some clouds, the temperature was in the mid-70's and really the only annoyance for the evening was the occasional fly swarming in to see what looked tasty.

One of the criticisms I had heard about eating at the Lodge was how expensive it was. Then again, I had heard the same rumor about Tre Belle and was happy to discover during my visit to that half of the building, the prices were pretty much in-line with the quality of food and level of service. As I sat down in my chair, my server handed me two menus.

Here was a shot of the dinner menu (top, middle, and bottom):




And here was a shot of the bar / patio menu (top, middle, and bottom):




Immediately, several notions crossed my mind. The first was that the dinner menu was significantly more expensive than the bar / patio menu and was significantly more expensive than the menu was at Tre Belle. Second, the Lodge is a steak and seafood kind of place. The two lonely pastas and one roasted chicken dish seemed entirely out of place. I assume they are there for diners who aren't in the mood for steak or seafood. The third idea that came to me was that while ordering off the regular dinner menu wouldn't be cheap, at least there was the alternative of ordering from the bar menu. However, be warned that the bar menu was only available in the bar (obviously) and the patio.

When I asked my server about daily specials, I was disappointed to learn that the Lodge shares a trait with the original location, the Grill: an almost sickening abundance of daily specials. In addition to the seven or eight appetizers available on the dinner menu, there were five additional appetizers alone. Don't even get me started on the litany of entrées that were available as daily specials. While I am all about choice in a restaurant, expecting diners to remember that much information, much less have the staff have to go through it with each table, seems a bit silly for me. You get to a point where it would be better to print up daily specials menus to distribute with the regular dinner menu. Fortunately, the time I visited Tre Belle, I was relieved that this practice hadn't taken root there, too.

As I pondered over my myriad of choices, my server brought me bread and butter:


It turned out that the bread was actually from Stone Oven on Lee Road in Cleveland. I had sampled this very tasty bread when I ate at Dante Restaurant not too long ago. While the bread was exquisitely fresh, I did prefer the version at Dante because they had warmed the bread before serving it.


The softened and whipped butter had fresh rosemary in it which complemented the bread nicely.

After pondering for a bit longer, I decided that for my appetizer, I would go with one of the daily specials, the seared scallops over vanilla bean risotto:


Visually, this dish was quite arresting. Which was interesting to me given how rustic my entrée would be later on in the meal. The duo of scallops had been seared to utter perfection and when I cut one in half, the white translucent interior told me that they would not be tough, but silky and ethereal:


The tender and creamy scallops had the perfect amount of texture and could've melted in my mouth. The vanilla bean risotto, also perfectly executed, wasn't sweet like most people would expect, but savory. The rice had just the right amount of toothiness to it (al dente) and was creamy the way a risotto should be prepared without the addition of too much cheese. The reduced balsamic streaks on the plate added a subtle sweet and sour element to the dish. I honestly thought it would be the balsamic reduction that was too strong for the delicate flavor of the scallops. It actually turned out to be the glazed strawberries.

When too much strawberry was combined with the other flavors on the plate, the acidic assertiveness of the strawberry overwhelmed everything else. When I cut the strawberries into smaller pieces, the flavor was much more balanced and I could taste each individual flavor as well as the dish as a whole. My suggestion would be to keep the strawberries, but perhaps use them diced finely as a garnish, almost like a confetti or maybe a strawberry chutney. That way, you can keep the flavor impact more manageable.

What I didn't realize (and I didn't see it listed on the menu) was that every entrée also came with a house salad. Here was mine:


Along with a mix of greens, toasted slivered almonds, dried cranberries, a sprinkling of feta cheese also dotted my plate. A house balsamic vinaigrette accompanied my salad in a separate cup. I hadn't asked for it on the side, as I expected a restaurant of the Lodge's caliber to be able to correctly dress a salad. But, that was a minor quibble. Before dressing my salad greens, I tasted the vinaigrette by itself. I personally like my vinaigrettes more acidic and this one definitely fit the bill.

Having added dressing to my taste, I attempted to gather up a little bit of everything on my fork. When I got a dried cranberry, the sweetness balanced the acidity of the vinaigrette well. Without the cranberry, I felt like it was missing something. The feta lent a mild flavor to the salad, but the creaminess was certainly appreciated. The toasted slivered almonds added a nice textural contrast and an obviously nutty flavor.

My appetizer and salad courses completed, I decided to add a glass of red wine for my entrée. Here was a shot of the tableside menu:



Perhaps they have a bigger wine menu available inside, but if this was the entirety of their wine selection, I would be a little surprised. Regardless, I went with a glass of the Columbia merlot:


I wasn't necessarily looking for a wine with lots of bold flavors; more like something that would complement the choice of protein in my entrée this evening. This wine fit the bill perfectly. I initially thought that $10 for a glass might be a bit pricey, but given the size of the pour, I definitely think it was worth it.

Shortly after my wine arrived, so did the remainder of my dinner. Here was a shot of the seared elk over a root vegetable ragout:


This wasn't on the regular menu, but was one of the daily specials. When I asked my server the price, she quoted me $45. While I was a little shocked at first, seeing that their filet mignon was listed at $37 and knowing that good steakhouses charge about that much for similar steaks, I figured that an extra $8 to try something I had never eaten before was worth it. And seeing as I pay for a $37 filet about once or twice a year, I figured tonight's entrée would count as one of my yearly indulgences.

When my server asked me how I wanted it prepared, I informed her that when I order filet, I normally get it medium rare. She nodded and said that the chef definitely recommends elk be cooked medium rare as well, as being too rare or cooked much past medium rare will lead to a tougher cut. As I cut into my elk steak, I was rewarded with a perfectly cooked piece of meat:


This farm-raised elk had been marinated in red wine to help remove some of the gamey flavor. I would've loved to try a version that hadn't been marinated, because honestly, I could detect no hint of gaminess at all. The seasoning was spot on and as I made the first cut into the steak, I noticed the ease with which it cut. When I placed the bite into my mouth, I was rewarded with a rich meaty flavor and meat that almost melted in my mouth. Pairing it with the jus pooled at the bottom of the plate, each bite was as heavenly as the last. The only real issue I had was with, of all things, the garnishes. While I've dinged some restaurants in the past for the lack of something as simple as a sprig of parsley, today's bouquet of parsley stems and leaves looked vulgar and out of place. While I get that as opposed to my appetizer, the elk was supposed to look "rustic," the parsley didn't have the professional polish that should've accompanied a plate of food at this price point. The sweet potato chips adorning the top of the steak also weren't crispy at all. The color was great, but the chips had more of a chewy texture to them.

While I was originally debating a side dish, when my server informed me that a trio of samplings was available for $6, I jumped at the chance to try it out. Here was my side dish tonight:


An interesting dish and presentation, what the three of these side dishes had in common was that they had all been gratineed under the Salamander (a professional broiler). The yellow line was a Latin City corn dish that had been spiced up with a bit of cayenne pepper. The green line in the middle was the same creamed spinach that was already available on the menu. The final line was a sweet potato soufflé, which I'm guessing refers more to its lightness rather than the fact that it rose in the oven at some point.

Each side was tasty, but the creamed spinach could've used a bit more seasoning as the spinach flavor was a bit flat. I could've sworn that there was either yogurt or creme fraiche in the sweet potato soufflé, but my server checked with the kitchen and they denied that either ingredient was involved. Any way you slice it, this side dish was an excellent decision for only $6.

As I sat on the deck, post dinner waiting for the check, who should walk up to my table other than Ken Stewart himself. If you remember, gentle reader, during my tale of Tre Belle, I actually met him for the first time ever, but I didn't identify myself other than to tell him my first name. This time, however, he remembered. "You're the blogger guy, aren't you?" We chatted for a few minutes and I gave him some of the exact feedback I am posting here. He asked if I had been to the Grill yet and when I told him that it was on my list of places to try, he seemed pleased.

Alright, the moment has arrived that I'm sure you've all been waiting for ... the check. As it turned out, the elk dish had been misquoted to me by my server. It wasn't $45. It was $48. Of course, I could take the easy way out and simply blame my server. Or I could blame the plethora of off-menu specials and congratulate her for getting the number so close to the right price.

All said and done, with a about a 23% tip and tax, the bill came to a whopping $106. That included a glass of wine, an appetizer, an included house salad, and an entrée. Yes, that is expensive. Like really expensive. Then again, was it a good value? Considering that the scallops and elk were cooked to perfection and the fact that there probably aren't many other places in northeast Ohio where one could even find elk on the menu? I'd say it was a fair value. Will Ken Stewart's Lodge be on my regular list of restaurants I visit often? No, probably not. I just can't see myself regularly dropping the same amount of cash for one meal as I used to budget for four weeks of grocery shopping back in college.

I would certainly recommend Ken Stewart's Lodge for those special occasions when money may be less of an issue. The food and service were both excellent and they are clearly there to take care of you in whatever way they can. As a diner, I would certainly appreciate a paper copy of the daily specials (nothing fancy, just something that can be thrown out at the end of each day), but I can't deny that the execution of the food was nearly flawless. If you can afford to do it, I would suggest stopping in for an excellent meal.