This is what profound disappointment looks like..... |
Sometimes
in life, we experience these exceptionally dizzying moments when we have such great
expectations that they seem to eclipse all that is humanly possible. For
example, you spy your favorite actress in a magazine with a fierce haircut and,
as optimistic as Shirley Temple in her heyday, you strut into your hair salon,
picture of said actress in hand, and request to get that exact haircut; when
you have to give a presentation to 500 of your co-workers and you think you’ve polished your spiel to
perfection; or when you dare to read a couple of favorable reviews of a
restaurant and decide “Sounds good to me; I’ll give it a try.”
Right
now, I fall into this latter category.
Generally,
when it’s time to visit a new restaurant (ergo, a restaurant that I’ve never
been to . . . not necessarily a new restaurant on the dining scene), I try to
steer clear of reading any reviews. I want my dining impressions to be my own and
not influenced by the likes or dislikes of others. However, somehow I managed
to read a few reviews of Aleathea’s Restaurant in Cape May, NJ and thought, “Ummmm…that sounds good!” So
off we went, my husband and I, for what we had hoped would be a delightful lunch on a lazy Saturday afternoon
Pffffth.
Aleathea’s
had all of the right elements and ambiance for a good lunch: wraparound porch; views of the beach (although not situated on the beach, but I won’t hold that against them); fresh,
local seafood. So what the hell went wrong?
I’m
glad you asked (even if you didn’t actually verbalize that thought).
Husband
and wife strolled onto the porch of The Inn of Cape May, a Victorian hotel
built in 1894 where Aleathea's was housed that kind of gave me that transported-back-in-time feel. Sort of. Cozy
rocking chairs lined the porch where diners could enjoy a leisurely snack or
cocktails. It was such an unexpectedly beautiful day that we dared not dine
indoors so, after some confusion as to where we would order our food, we sat
down at one of the tiny outdoor tables.
As
we perused the menu, I had high hopes. I really should stop that mess, shouldn’t I?
The high hopes thing, I mean . . .
The
lunch menu was comprised generally of your typical bar-type cuisine. There didn’t seem to be anything
fancy, special or over-the-top about it, which was just fine with us. After
all, it was lunch and it was late. Our main focus was sustenance. (Well, my goal was to get palatable sustenance, and lots of it, but who am
I to argue?). No need for chateaubriand when a sandwich would suit us fine. So taking
a cue from my taste buds, I ordered a Mediterranean Chicken sandwich while my
husband opted for the Grouper sandwich.
More on these later.
And
yes, in case you’re wondering, this born-and-bred Maryland girl did see the Crab Cake on the menu.
However, I was suspiciously dubious as to the flavor profile of said crab cake
sandwich. In the end, I believe, even thought I ultimately went the Mediterranean Chicken, I saved myself a
world of heart- and tummy ache.
My husband's salad; neither here nor there; it just was. |
As
a starter (I admit it: I’m a glutton; I almost always have a starter with lunch and dinner; perhaps that would
explain why my waistline has expanded exponentially over the past two years), I
chose the Five Wings more out of curiosity than anything else. My husband, ever
the more pragmatic of the two, selected a side salad.
Um, er, uh ... the wings. Surprisingly tasty. |
The
presentation of the wings was, well, as to be expected. They didn’t come out
with a flourish of a marching band, horns blaring and a ticker tape parade. It was
a simple plate of five wings, a little ramekin of blue cheese dressing and
celery sticks. Big whoop. However, the wings were actually good. Crispy. Wet. A
great combination.
After
that, the slippery downhill slope is magnanimous.
Mediterranean Chicken...can we say "boring"? |
The
Mediterranean Chicken sandwich was, in a word, sad. The plate was as boring as
a two-hour harmonica concert (no offense to the harmonica aficionados…), the provolone
cheese wasn’t fully melted, and there wasn’t a trace of a true condiment on the
entire sandwich. Pfffth. That’s only the beginning. The taste. Well, let me put
it this way: bleeh.
I
thought my husband would fare better with his Grouper sandwich. Sadly, its
flavor was elevated over the chicken by a modicum. Flat, greasy and overcooked,
it was just to the left of pitiful. Again, pfffth. In an attempt to enhance the
flavor, he requested a side of tartar sauce. Why they didn’t think to bring
that out in the first place is a mystery to me. All I know is this: stop
serving that sammich! Pronto! (Along with that boring, uninspired chicken
mess).
Grilled Grouper...really? |
Sure,
this might be totally unfair to Aleathea’s, seeing as it was only my first
visit. Perhaps we caught them on a bad day? Maybe the chef was out sick and
they had the busboy subbing. If this scene had taken place in an alternate universe, they could
claim that, had I come just five minutes earlier and eaten indoors, where they have nice crisp white tablecloths and real
glasses for cocktails, the experience would be totally different. But come on,
do you really think I’m going to drive another three and a half hours back to Cape
May just for the pleasure of eating this food again? {Raising hand high in the
air…} I think not.
Aleathea’s
Restaurant, 7 Ocean Street, Cape May, NJ
/ 609-884-5555
* * *
For more favorable restaurant dining impressions, check out my columns, Fairfield County Restaurant Examiner and International Restaurant Examiner. For the really fun stuff, check out my articles on WomanAroundTown.com.
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