I hate writing negative reviews, and really try not to do so after a single visit to a place. But last night, we had a dinner that left me asking (for the first time in a long time), "why do I feel bilked out of $150??"
The evening started off nicely at the bar with a round of Lillet for C and me, a vodka-tonic for O and an Arnold Palmer for K. As we were shown to our table, we all commented at how pretty the dining room is, and how calm. Our waitress for the evening was lovely and explained a few specials to us -- I particularly liked that she advised us of prices for the specials without having to be asked (some of you may remember that this is a particular pet peeve).
After we got caught up, and had figured out what everyone was eating, I turned my attention to the wine list. The list was definitely skewed to the Californian, despite the chef's cuisine definitely having its roots in France. The Burgundy section was way out of our price range, as were most of the European wines.
I did spy a bottle of '96 Luigi Righetti Campolieti Valpolicella for $45, which seemed pretty reasonable, and ordered that. Here, our problems began.
After 10 or so minutes, our waitress came out to say that they were "looking" for our wine, and it would be a few minutes. Five minutes later she came back to say that they couldn't find the '96, but that they did have the '95 ($50). 1995 was a banner year in the Veneto, so sure, we'll take it.
She presented the bottle and proceeded to open it. Well, she tried to, anyway. She suddenly disappeared without a word, and returned a few minutes later with the cork now removed, and without a further word about it. She poured me a taste, complete with several cork bits. I tasted the wine and though I do not profess to be an expert in the wines of the Veneto, it tasted corked to me -- too lean, none of the weight or characteristics of Valpolicella that I love, and very clearly redolent of wet cardboard. I said, apologetically, "I hate to say this, but this bottle appears corked..." She gave it a sniff and said, "well, the cork was really hard to pull out".
She disappeared with the bottle once again while I went back to the wine list. I decided to go a completely different route with a Thomas Fogarty pinot noir, which I felt was probably a safer choice.
Meanwhile, our appetizers had shown up. I had had my heart set on the seared scallops and cognac infused free range duck foie ($16), but they were out, so I settled on Poached Maine Lobster Ravioli, mache saffron broth ($12). The broth was fragrant and lovely, with just a hit of saffron's bitter edge. The ravioli was tender, but the lobster filling was a bit too salty and ever so slightly too fishy. C's Woodland mushroom sandwich, caramelized onions, light puff pastry, cognac cream ($11) was deeply flavorful, but the puff pastry was too dense and chewy. There was an edge of tanginess to the onions which I didn't care for, but in concert, this dish worked fine. K & O's starters (a field greens salad and the crab cakes) looked good, but neither said a word about the dishes, which leads me to believe they were fairly unmemorable as well.
About halfway through our meal, the Chef came to our table with the remnants of the bottle of Valpolicella. He said he was at the bar when our waitress brought it back, and he wanted to try it. He started telling us that this wine was very representative of Valpolicella (in a somewhat condescending manner, I might add), and he left the bottle with us. C and I kept tasting throughout the meal, and while the wine did improve (it was served very cold initially), it continued to be generally insipid without much backbone. Again, I'm no expert in Valpolicellas, but I do expect that pretty little bitter almond finish along with some of the rounder, earthy-tobacco-raisiny character that comes from a secondary fermentation on the Amarone lees.
By this time, our entrees were being delivered, so Chef Vortriede left us to it.
My Char grilled loin of pork, sun dried grape-Cabernet essence ($22) could have been soooo good. The pork tasted like chicken but not in a bad way. The char on the meat was delicious and perfectly done. The plumped raisins and cabernet essence were lovely, but everything was sitting atop a bed of undercooked chard and pommes Anna, which were entirely overwhelmed by nutmeg, oversalting and some kind of pepper-heat that was most unwelcome. The sides simply didn't match the simplicity of the pork, and the sweetness of the jus.
C's Black Angus NY steak, truffled bordelaise, Colbert butter, Anna potatoes ($25) didn't fare much better. I was hard-pressed to identify any truffle in the two bites I had, and his potatoes suffered the same affliction as mine.
K had the Roasted breast of chicken, prosciutto, sage, gruyere, pan jus ($19) which arrived, most surprisingly, on a bed of dry, grainy polenta. O had the Mixed Grill of char broiled filet mingon, almond crusted lobster cake, pinot demi, wild mushrooms, sauteed greens, Anna potatoes. For the life of me, I couldn't tell which part of the meal was supposed to be a "mixed grill"; O said it was fine, but again, that was all we heard from him.
Amazingly, every dish was garnished exactly the same way -- an orchid, two large chips (a yam, and maybe a taro root?), and the same balsamic vinegar and chili oil squiggles on the rim of each plate. It sort of reaffirmed our feelings that many things seemed like an afterthought.
Fortunately, the company was wonderful, so we went on to order dessert, which I have to say was the best part of the meal. I'd read some less-than-stellar reviews of the dessert choices previously, but noted that the pastry chef noted on the menu was a different name than that on the website, so perhaps there have been some changes?
C's Strawberry Shortcake ($8) was quite tasty. The "cake" was in fact a savory biscuit like you would find in biscuits and gravy. It worked surprisingly well with the generous serving of whipped cream, ice cream (or creme anglaise, I couldn't tell -- it was a "sauce" but very cold) and strawberries. My Vanilla panna cotta with berries and caramel glaze ($9) was equally delicious, if a bit on the sweeter and denser side than I favor. The caramel glaze was actually a burnt sugar syrup/glaze atop which the custard sat, and it was heavenly for someone who adores burnt sugar. I got a small bit of O's Brown sugar bread pudding, Maker's caramel sauce, vanilla bean ice cream, and thought it was fine. A bit dense and less custardy than usual, and the ice cream was almost gelato-like in its density.
Towards the end of the meal, chef Vortriede came back out to pointedly ask us about the wine again. I told him I still believed it to be off, but did admit that it opened up a bit after warming. I thanked him for leaving the bottle on the table so we could play with it.
The total bill for four came to $270 -- we weren't charged for the Valpolicella that we did, admittedly, drink almost two glasses of. While the service was wonderful (and we did tip our very sweet waitress nearly 25%), at those kinds of prices, I'm not willing to give Montclair Bistro a chance to redeem itself.
Montclair Bistro
6118 Medau Place
Oakland, CA 94611
510.482.8282
