Three of us visited Ceres' Table on a recent Thursday evening for a 7 p.m. reservation. As it happened, there was a benefit that night so the place filled very quickly, something we hadn't expected or anticipated, though of course the house knew. In the event, the full house may have had some impact; in retrospect, I'd like to think so because it was a very uneven dinner: there were some great things and one real stinker. We ordered three apps, three entrees, and three desserts and shared everything.
Having not written this up in the immediate aftermath, I'll give a condensed version and invite my compatriots from that evening to add their two (or more) cents.
Lamb and pistachio terrineAs wonderful as this dish was, to quote one of my companions, the terrine itself was too "tight.” A slightly “looser” compression or a slightly coarser grind would have been welcome in this dish. Other than that criticism, though, this was a winner—nice flavor and nicely chosen accompaniments, from the arugula to the giardiniera, though my preference would have been for a more assertive mustard.
Beet and Yukon Gold gnocchiHands' down the worst dish of the evening. By the time the dish arrived, I think we had forgotten (I know I certainly had) that it was a beet and Yukon Gold combination. I recall all three of us were puzzled by the look: it seemed we were given a plate of tiny red potatoes. These were everything gnocchi should never be—mostly tasteless, gummy things. We didn’t even finish the dish. All mixed up in the presentation were (according to the menu, anyway) ricotta, a dill pesto, chicken confit and pine nuts. Way, way too much going on. It made for a muddled dish in which nothing stood out more than the gumminess of the gnocchi. And I remember being surprised when I consulted the menu in the course of writing this up to discover that there were beets. I detected no beet flavor whatsoever. Which, frankly, was probably a good thing.
Day boat scallopsAs bad as the gnocchi were, this may have been the best dish of the night. Large, juicy, scallops, perfectly roasted. Since there were three of us, it would have been nice to receive three scallops instead of two, but it was still a stellar dish. I liked the accompaniments this time, although the dish showed the same tendency as the gnocchi to include too much: cauliflower puree, fava beans, spring onions, new carrots, and "cioppino sauce." Let the highlighted ingredient shine. Don't clutter the presentation needlessly or pointlessly. The scallops could have done just as well with half the items listed.
FalsomagroFalsomagro, the menu instructs us, is “bacon-wrapped Sicilian meatloaf.” I'm not certain what made it Sicilian but, delicious as it was, it was not meatloaf. Grind and compression issues again. Someone else at the table nailed it: “this is sausage.” It was delicious sausage but it wasn’t meatloaf. And delicious as it was to have it wrapped in bacon, there's a feeling of gilding the lily. I understand that the fat in the bacon helped keep the "meatloaf" moist, but if it had been more meatloaf-like and less sausage-like, it would have made a bit more sense.
CorzettiThis was beautifully made, perfectly cooked pasta with a spring array of veggies from fresh (if scarce) favas, pea sprouts, baby artichokes, and a “parmesan broth.” A hit. I was disappointed that it seemed like someone in the kitchen was counting the fava beans out according to a predetermined quota, but each item was well-chosen this time and contributed to a complete course that worked absolutely wonderfully.
Polletto al mattoneCornish hen, said the menu. Many menus call it "baby chicken" (based on the Italian name) which seems more appropriate in view of the size of the clucker we got, a rather impressive specimen that was very nicely cooked. Juicy, flavorful but I didn't find anything noteworthy about it. I wasn't quite sure why this happened to be on the menu at this restaurant and there was certainly nothing wrong with it. The "pea-tendril risotto" on which it sat presumably made it Italian, in which case I would contend that the risotto should have been more compelling (and/or complementary) than it was. A nice dish but nothing I'd be interested in repeating.
Indeed, the problem with the hen was the problem, in large part, with the menu itself. For a menu with only eight entrees, some just don’t belong. They’re so safe they’re not even tempting: Why is there a pork chop with bacon, blue cheese, and apple brandy sauce? I love good pork chops, but with so few entrees, this is a missed opportunity to feature something different, something offbeat, to show off. So too with the halibut (on spinach with smoked ham and walnuts). A couple other pastas and liver completed the offerings. Disappointing.
TiramisuThe dessert menu had the same problem: five offerings, including the strangest tiramisu I’ve ever seen: the custard was very good, indeed, the whole dish was fine. Just, um, odd-looking.
Apple crostata: lovely pastry, pleasant apples…. Perfectly enjoyable without leaving any other impression a little over a week later. I even managed to forget to take a picture;
mi dispiace.
Peanut butter fudge tartPeanut butter fudge tart: pretty to look at, what’s not to like? And, best of all, the peanut butter had enough salt and the right amount of sugar (not too sweet) to make a swell dessert. But to repeat: why is it here? Frankly, the disconnect between the pastry chef and the restaurant is a problem I've noticed for a long time. All too often the items that pastry chefs are offering seem designed to show off their talents (understandable) but show too little effort to complement the menu. No, an Italian restaurant need not serve only Italianate desserts—but, by the same token, wouldn't it be nice to see more than tiramisu to complement the direction the chef chooses for the dinner menu? Crostata, yes, I suppose. But peanut butter fudge tart? Banana bread pudding? Chocolate chip cookie? Creme brulee? I like all these desserts, but I can find them pretty much anywhere.
A brief word on service: again, I should note that the full house may have had some impact. That fact notwithstanding, we had a waitress, not a server. She would have been fine at Ed Debevic's; with this menu, she was simply out of her depth. She displayed no evident knowledge of the food at all and her skills in general were, um, less than might be hoped. For all intents and purposes, she was a messenger. Whether she is unique in that regard or representative, I have no way of knowing.
My reviews usually end with my sense of whether (and how soon) I think I'd return. Here, frankly, I'm torn. The great dishes (the scallops and the corzetti) were superb and I'd return for them in a heartbeat. The bad dish (the gnocchi) was a travesty and I'd never return to a place where this was representative. I think, in the end, what inclines me to think that if I return, it will likely be a while, is the smallish menu with some odd choices. Why should I take my chances here when the quality is so uneven and the limited choices have so many things I can find elsewhere. I had hoped for a more distinctive menu and was disappointed to find some wonderful choices and some relentlessly ordinary ones. All in all, a disappointing evening saved only by wonderful companions and conversation.
Gypsy Boy
"I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)