I had dinner at the Pump Room last night, courtesy largely of a very generous gift certificate I've been sitting on for more than a year. Perhaps the most diplomatic thing I could say is that this restaurant is just not for me. But they seem to draw a huge crowd, particularly in the bar area, so far be it for me to tell them they're doing it wrong, assuming that raking in dollars is goal number one.
But if you're looking for great food, I feel comfortable concluding that you're definitely in the wrong place. And if you're looking to dine in a historic dining room, you may be in the right place, but you wouldn't know that from what they've done to the dining room. The interior bears almost no resemblance to the Pump Room of years past. In fact, I'd say it's an upscale, Viagra Triangle, American food version of Carnivale. Except the last time I was dining at Carnivale, Mark Mendez helmed the kitchen. The Pump Room could only dream to be so lucky.
As for food, our first mistake was accepting the offer of bread service. Three slightly past-their-prime pieces of bread (I suppose two people can fight over who has to eat the third) and slightly rancid olive oil made me thankful that I didn't believe we were being charged for the bread.
We then shared the whole wheat flatbread with house-made lamb merguez sausage, marinated olives, goat cheese, arugula, frisee and pecorino. Whatever flavor the crust may have offered was somewhat lost in the mountain of toppings. If you dared pick up a piece of the flatbread, no doubt a half pound of toppings would have poured off. Unfortunately, I was far more careful and so I managed to taste this overthought piece as it was probably intended. That is to say, a lot of very bold flavors, but in such excess as to eliminate the positives of any one ingredient. And although there were enough ingredients to top 8 pieces, unfortunately we were delivered only 4. I tasted the lamb merguez sausage on its own, hoping to find something in the dish that really excited me, but though decent, it really was nothing special. And as for the crust, a nice char on the bottom, but the ingredients allowed the crust to quickly grow soggy. Who knows how the crust might have tasted at its peak. Don't get me wrong - there is nothing at all offensive about the flavors here. But if you had told me that this flatbread was composed at Pizza Hut, I would not have reacted with shock.
My entree was the fried organic chicken with spinach and buttery hot sauce. I hate to bring this hot topic up here, but the chicken (primarily breast meat) was deboned. But really, that's beside the point. The biggest problem with the chicken is that it was pretty dry, dense and just not very flavorful (so who cares if it's organic other than the marketing folks). My favorite part of any fried chicken is the crust and that first bite of meat right below the crust. But in addition to the dry chicken, this crust (though crisp and not greasy) had an odd texture. I'm not quite sure how they bread their birds but the crust reminded me slightly of the texture of a taro fritter you might find at dim sum, crispy, but a little dry and airy. The crust could also have stood a little more in the way of seasoning, but that was a minor miss.
The buttery hot sauce was actually pretty decent. It was more buttery than hot, but nice in the sense that it surrounded rather than covered the chicken, and because it didn't overwhelm the flavors of the chicken or spinach. Unfortunately, the spinach was overcooked and a little too mushy in my opinion.
There were a number 20-somethings in the room, seemingly on dates (but also some in their 30s, 40s and beyond), and to me, this seemed like just a fine place to dine if you're taken by the modern, slightly sexy, Great Gatsby-esque (the remake that is) dining room and the non-stop beat of club music and you are less concerned with the food. In fact, I wouldn't have been shocked if Leonardo DiCaprio suddenly appeared in the middle of the room, stood on a table, clapped and spread colorful confetti throughout the dining room to a loud applause. I should also note that we dined post-theater last night, so although the music blared throughout the dining room, I don't know whether that's also the theme earlier in the evening. But that certainly seems to be the atmosphere the packed house appreciated. The only problem is that I was there for good food and not the circus. Needless to say, I left slightly unsatisfied. But it was the gift certificate that eased my pain.