Maison Martinique: ‘The emperor has no clothes’
It pains me to say this, but I think it will come as little surprise to longtime fans to hear that after a good run at the top of the Vero Beach dining scene, Maison Martinique appears to be in a downward spiral that makes it no longer a great value for what have always been serious dining dollars.
That’s not to say that this is no longer the island’s most elegant restaurant – it arguably is – or that you can’t get a good meal there. You can.
But for dinners with wine that can easily run over $200 for two, the entire experience – from the moment you book your reservation to the moment you leave the restaurant – ought to be top flight in every regard. It also ought to be consistent. At the moment with Maison Martinique, you have no idea what to expect.
Our most recent experience began last Friday when we spotted an ad announcing
Maison Martinique was going to be serving Easter dinner. Great, we thought. What better place to go wearing your Easter finery. So we called at around 1 pm on Friday to see if we might still get a reservation.
The call went into voice mail, so we left our dining request and phone number, and waited to hear if we were in luck.
Twenty four hours later, having not heard from anyone, we called again, and left another message on the voicemail. Finally Saturday evening, still not having heard anything, we called during the dinner hour. Surely there must be a human present at the restaurant during dinner.
The person who answered the phone said she had no record of our previous calls – this is a recurring problem, she said, and she has talked to the owner about it – but cheerfully booked our party of three for 6 pm on Sunday.
On Easter afternoon, we arrived at the appointed hour and were seated in Maison
Martinique’s lovely Bamboo Room, the larger of its dining areas. The room was only half full, but it took almost 10 minutes for a server to make her way to the table to take a wine order.
We ordered a fume blanc off the wine list, and in a few minutes, the server was back.
That wine was out of stock, we were told. Would we like to choose another? (Meanwhile, we overheard the couple at the next table being told by another server that the restaurant was out of the Scotch liqueur Drambuie. What’s up with being out of wines and liqueurs?)
We chose an alternative wine recommendation (more expensive, by the way) and a few minutes later, placed our orders.
For appetizers, I chose the special beet salad ($12.50), our companion chose the special pear salad ($12.50), and my husband opted for the escargots ($14).
The good news first. The escargots, a sumptuous variation on the classic French dish, are served out of the shell, drifting in sea of mushrooms, shallots, garlic and thyme whipped into a garlic crème and butter sauce. This is rich French cuisine at its finest.
But the two salads were disappointing. The pear salad, with gorgonzola, candied walnuts and frisee, was less than wonderful. And the beet salad, roasted beets served with goat cheese and wilted greens, did not have the deep, sweet taste you expect from roasted beets. These beets, clearly too long in the oven, were bitter and salty.
For entrees, I chose the roast rack of lamb ($40), my husband chose the venison special ($38), and our companion opted for the fresh grilled cobia ($29). All three dishes were accompanied by potatoes, carrots, and a spinach soufflé.
While waiting for the main course, we flagged down first a server – and finally the hostess – in a bid to get a refill of our glasses from the wine bucket.
The first of the dishes to make it to the table was the lamb, which was brought out from the kitchen and displayed on the cutting board to our companion. “That’s not what I ordered,” she exclaimed. “Oh, I didn’t want to go around the table,” our server replied.
Even from afar, it was clear to me that the dijon mustard and garlic herbed bread crumb crust on the lamb was charred. “As a cook, I’ve burned a few dishes myself and that lamb is burned,” I remarked. No reaction, and off the lamb went to be carved.
Minutes later, the three dishes were presented. The lamb was cooked medium with one slice well done (I had asked for medium rare), and with the crust, the dish had a definite burned taste. Not what I had been hoping for.
The cobia was even worse. The beurre blanc and balsamic reduction failed to mask a tell-tale fishy taste. Not a good sign.
The best entrée of the three was the venison, which was tender and delicate, not at all gamey, and perfectly complimented by a Juneberry sauce.
When we started the entrees, my husband decided to switch to a cabernet, and asked the server for a glass to accompany the venison. She set off to retrieve it, and never emerged again until meal’s end – without the cabernet. “Oh,” she said, “I’m so sorry.”
At this point, we decided to call it an evening, and return home for our coffee and Easter cake. With tax and tip, this dessert-less experience cost $240.
A year ago, after a couple of similarly frustrating experiences, we gingerly suggested that Maison Martinique is no longer the top Vero restaurant. This year, we will take that a step further. As the child in the Hans Christian Andersen tale might say, ‘The Emperor has no clothes.’
I welcome your comments, and encourage you to send feedback to me at tina@verobeach32963.com.
The reviewer is a beachside resident who dines anonymously at restaurants at the expense of Vero Beach 32963.
Hours
Tuesday through Saturday, 6 to 10 pm
Bar
Full Bar
Address (MAP)
1601 Ocean Drive, Vero Beach, Telephone: (772) 231-7299
Online
www.thecaribbeancourt.com/maisonmartiniquerestaurant
