Perhaps my dining partner and I expected too much... Perhaps. But one thing is certain: Despite…read morebeing highly recommended via a variety of sources, our recent visit to Agua Bistro proved to be something of a disappointment.
Our dissatisfaction pertained neither to the restaurant's appealingly cozy ambiance nor to its spot-on personable service. Rather, it was related solely to the preparation and presentation of a portion of the cuisine; which, despite their website's pontification - "Here you will find Chef's handcrafted à la carte menu inspired by a medley of Mediterranean flavors" - fell significantly short of expectations.
But let's begin on a positive note... The Fried Artichokes, which my dining partner and I shared as an appetizer, as did the other couple with whom we dined, received nothing but raves. Kissed by a balsamic glaze, caressed by Panko breadcrumbs, and pillowed on mixed greens splashed with lemon dressing, it was indeed an auspicious beginning.
Desserts were also quite good... and our little group managed to sample several noteworthy possibilities. My dining partner, for example, enjoyed the Limoncello Cake while I opted for the Apple Tart with French vanilla ice cream.
But by far the most interesting dessert of the evening was the Peach Melba, which was shared by the other couple. Actually, "interesting" is something of a misnomer, as the history of this famous confection is as intriguing as its checklist of ingredients is delicious.
Peach Melba is a dessert of peaches, raspberry sauce, and vanilla ice cream (Agua's version also adds whipped cream). It was invented in 1892-93 by French chef Auguste Escoffier at London's Savoy Hotel to honor Australian soprano Nellie Melba. In 1892, or so the story goes, Ms. Melba was performing Wagner's opera Lohengrin at Covent Garden. At a dinner party in her honor, Escoffier presented her with a dessert of fresh peaches served over vanilla ice cream in a silver dish perched atop an ice sculpture of a swan (which is featured in the opera). Originally Escoffier called the dish Pêche au Cygne (Peach with a Swan). Several years later, however, he changed the recipe slightly by adding a topping of sweetened raspberry purée and renamed the dish Pêche Melba.
Tasty fried artichokes and tempting desserts notwithstanding, it was the entrées that proved to be the kitchen's undoing... And topping the list of eminently forgettable items was my Pan Seared Atlantic Swordfish, which was overly breaded, unattractively hefty of countenance, exhibited a decidedly mushy texture, and tasted offputtingly "fishy" in spots. Ill-chosen accompaniments such as gloppy white beans, olive tapenade, and bland, under-seasoned, undercooked vegetables did absolutely nothing - either gastronomically or asthetically - to remediate this sorry state of affairs. Definitely not the kitchen's finest hour.
While other entrées were not as distasteful as my swordfish, they were still nothing to write home about. My dining partner, for example, wasn't exactly thrilled with her Chicken Parmigiana. Not that it was beneath contempt... but she certainly had seen and tasted better in numerous other establishments.
What was particularly telling to me was that the kitchen appeared to be rather careless with its entrée presentations. The food photos I observed on the restaurant's website were strikingly beautiful. Up close and personal, however - in the flesh, so to speak - their appearance clearly lacked a certain savoir faire. And for an establishment that seemed to posture itself as significantly above the ranks of plebeian cookery, this was an unappetizing paradox indeed.
The major offender in this regard was undoubtedly the Wild Mushroom Ravioli swimming in a madeira cream sauce. Which, while a feast for the palate - at least according to the other gentleman in our party - was also famine for the eye, bearing, in my opinion, uncanny resemblance to the regurgitation of an endangered species.
I don't mean to imply that each and every item placed before a diner needs to be a work of art... On the other hand, it should possess sufficient visual appeal to contribute to rather than detract from the enjoyment of an evening at table. In this instance, with just the slightest bit of effort, I think the kitchen could have made this particular presentation infinitely more pleasurable to the eye.
An absolutely charming little BYOB, there is no question that Agua Bistro has all the makings of a first-rate eatery. That being said, however... for idealistic promise to become gastronomic reality, it appears that there must be a significant improvement in both the quality and the character of their entrées.
