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Back To Mensa HomepageBy Carol Young
Every once in a while, if you’re lucky, you get to have a dining experience that transcends the mere enjoyment of good food expertly prepared. Such is the experience if you’re fortunate enough to dine at Mary Elaine’s at the Phoenician. This past summer, Gene Holmerud and I got lucky and had the pleasure of a 2 1/2 hour celebration of the palette.
The enjoyment began the second we got off the elevators on the fifth floor. We were greeted as though we were royalty and even the expression on the faces of the receptionists said "oh we’re so glad you’re finally here".
We were seated at a lovely table next to the window overlooking the resort and with a view way way way out to the west. The tables were set with Wedgewood – Wedgewood!!! -- china and several crystal glasses. As soon as we were seated, an immaculately dressed server came along and offered us a choice of Pellegrino or Evian water. A thin wedge of lime was dropped into the crystal glass and then your choice of water was poured. The water server was immediately followed by another who brought me a tiny foot stool on which to place my purse, sun glasses, etc. so they didn't have to be plopped on the floor or the table. What a neat idea!
A glass of champagne began our evening of palate pleasure and Charles, our head waiter, made suggestions ending with the statement, " we'll try this and if you don't like it, we'll send it back and try something else." Charles was the perfect compliment to our evening. Decked out in a black tux, he faintly resembled Prince Rainier of Monaco - salt & pepper hair, mustache, debonair but with a personality and tone of voice that suggested "isn’t this fun?" We liked our champagne choice (of course) and as we settled, the wine master (complete with a silver taster cup around his neck) brought us the official wine list so we could make our choices for our dinner once we had looked at the menu. He was extremely knowledgeable about wines without making us feel stupid and at one point, after asking questions on what type of wine we preferred and what we were having for dinner, even offered to open a bottle of (apparently) very expensive wine just to give us our two glasses worth.
And oh! What a menu! It was divided into a 5-course set choice, a 4-course set choice or a la carte. We had all the time in the world to decide, and while we were looking over all the choices, we were each brought a narrow bread stick wrapped with a slice of ham and baked. Then we received a little trinket of food from the chef – a little something or other he felt like doing that day, which consisted of some kind of crab meat, with some kind of fancy mushrooms cut up, combined with something else and wrapped in filo dough. And it all just melted in your mouth. I could have had about 10 of those and called it a meal. But onward.
We decided on a la carte choices and the festivities began. No writing down, of course. Charles just remembered it all as we made our choices. And of course our choices were perfect in his mind. The only suggestion he made came when I said I couldn't decided between the langostines or... He interrupted and ever so gently said "go no further. The langostines are superb tonight". And of course, they were.
We worked our way slowly and delightfully through our choices: in addition to the langostines, we had bay scallops, lobster salad, cream of lobster soup, turbot, and a Mediterranean fish similar to red snapper, called daurade. What was truly wonderful was that with each course new forks and spoons were brought for what was ordered. No loading up the table with the silverware for the evening and the diners trying to guess which fork to use next. No keeping the same fork from course to course. At the conclusion of each course, the table was quickly and efficiently cleared of dishes, crumbs were swept away and new silverware was put down. Each course was presented as a work of art on an appropriately sized piece of the Wedgewood china.
And each course was a work of art. Such masterful combinations of taste. Mangoes mixed in with my daurade. Homemade mozzarella cheese with the langostines. Our only concern was that we would be unceremoniously tossed out on our ears because of the moaning and groaning that emanated from our table each time we put fork to mouth and tasted another bit of food.
We made sure we still had room for dessert. And ahhhhhh, dessert. With Charles’ continuing help, I chose a peach dessert. I truly thought I had died and gone to peach heaven: a little pound cake, sliced thin with almonds over a scoop of fresh peach ice cream and sitting in a nice little puddle of raspberry sauce. Oh my. Oh my oh my oh my oh my. I am today still craving peaches and peach ice cream. My coffee, of course, came with a little tray upon which sat a small silver cup of white and brown sugar, a small silver pitcher of cream and a silver cup with Equal and Sweet-n-Lo. Gene was delighted that he finally found a restaurant that served decaf tea that wasn't herbal. A small silver strainer was placed in his cup and the tea was poured through that.
The final bill was quite funny, actually and I may frame it for posterity. I'll spare the details, but will say that the tip alone would have been enough to buy two very acceptable dinners and a very nice restaurant.
But we’re not talking "nice restaurant". We’re talking gustatorial Nirvana. And after all is said and done, I’m making plans to return someday. I can't live the rest of my life knowing this restaurant exists within 20 miles of where I live and not going back.
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