Fine flavors and anachronistic recipes make Saratoga's long-standing La Mere Michelle a study in unexpected contrasts
By Christina Waters
Photo by Christopher GardnerBest Shots: Among the amenities at La Mere Michelle is a hefty wine list long on ports and cognacs.
A RECENT VISIT to Saratoga's aging matriarch, La Mere Michelle, was like a walk back in time. Here was a menu whose subject headings are still printed in French, still offering such culinary chestnuts as lobster Newburg, hearts of palm salad, prawn cocktail and fettuccine Alfredo.
Stepping into the main dining room, we were seated amid crystal chandeliers, flesh-pink table linens and lavish swags of sea-green curtains. "Isn't that Liberace?" my partner asked, incredulously, of the swirling medley of pops classics filling the ornate dining room. My grandmother--who would have felt quite at home here--could have answered him, but instead I focused on the menu.
A fixture for more than 20 years, La Mère Michelle is equipped with a very robust wine list, long on fine California vintages, aged ports and cognacs. From this listing, I chose a wine that was not, alas, in stock that evening. So I moved on to order a glass of the house Patriarche Merlot 1993, from southwest France ($7.50). It was a terrific, accessible wine, a generous pour offered in a gorgeous goblet. My companion contented himself with a Pilsner Urquell beer ($3.50) from the very brief offerings. And then we began the first of what was to become a series of long waits for each course.
My appetizer of the evening was a pretty plate of three Gulf prawns and three shiitake mushroom caps in a pool of butter, garlic and white wine ($9.50!). For my companion there was smoked Scotch (sic) salmon ($8.50) and a bountiful Caesar salad ($5.95).
All of these dishes proved surprisingly satisfying--I say "surprisingly" because they were served in such a time-warp setting. The prawns were firm and sweet, and the rich butter sauce proved--for better or worse--their natural ally. The Caesar was perfectly balanced, a bold and expert orchestration of romaine, garlic, anchovy and lemon. Without the lackluster croutons, the dish would have been perfect. And the salmon was tasty and buttery, garnished prettily with sweet Bermuda onion, capers and a perky leaf of butter lettuce.
The spell was broken when our wandering wait person finally returned to remove the first courses and admonished me with, "We couldn't finish our prawns?" I tried to smile politely and shake my head. "And he couldn't help you out?" she challenged my dining companion. We couldn't believe what we'd heard--a wait person criticizing diners for leaving something on their plates.
After a long wait, my companion's second beer arrived; after another long wait, our dinners materialized. Searching in our bread basket for solace, we both bemoaned the questionable choices of melba toast and a mediocre sweet Italian bread. And foil-wrapped butter, that curse from hell.
The entrees proved to be quite skillfully dispatched--again, the food is a distinct plus at this restaurant--and attractively presented. My companion's filet special of the evening involved three medallions ($21.50), topped with a trio of sauces that each involved lots of butter--one was Bernaise, another a green peppercorn reduction. The sauce of red wine, shallots and mushrooms was delicious, and a nice foil for the flavorful beef.
My order of that classy throwback, veal piccata ($19.50), involved lots of tender, exquisite veal scallops in an overly strident sauce of lemon, butter and capers. Both dishes were garnished with gusto--truly tasty roast potatoes lay next to creamed spinach and a nest of steamed julienned carrots. For the price we had to admit that we had gotten a lot of entree--and butter.
After another lengthy wait, we were able to request a takeout container for one remaining beef medallion, an order of the house cheesecake ($5) and the bill. And finally, they arrived. The cheesecake is that ethereal type, not the heavy, sour-cream-topped type, and I found it addictive.
All in all, the visit to La Mère Michelle--where the menu is practically preserved in aspic--was a curious and often delectable reminder of "special occasion" dining of several decades ago. I have no doubt that owners Joseph and Michelle Masek have accumulated a devoted following over the two decades they've operated the restaurant. And many of the dishes we sampled were expertly made. It was the overly formal decor and the inexcusable service that blurred our overall impression, and at least one of these elements can be easily solved.
La Mère Michelle
Address: 14467 Big Basin Way, Saratoga
Phone: 408/867-5272
Cuisine: Continental
Ambiance: hotel ballroom
Entrees: expensive, averaging $19.95
Hours: Lunch Tue.-Fri., 11:30am-2pm; dinner Tue.-Sun., from 6pm; closed Monday.
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From the January 18-24, 1996 issue of Metro.