The stately old Metuchen Inn welcomed our eager party with amber incandescence on a dark and damp Friday evening, and we were efficiently shuttled to our table.
A very good first sign: our server didn't bat an eyelash at my asking for our Tanqueray Martinis up with olives, mixed at a six-to-one ratio. The drinks were stellar; while Rhonda and I have taken to sipping a Manhattan preprandial, we still enjoy a Martini as a treat at a nice restaurant.
Another encouraging sign: having a hard time picking out an appetizer. I was very close to ordering the Blue Point oysters on the half shell, wrestled with the mussels, but settled upon the clams with chorizo and black beans. I think there's something about a clam I'll always prefer to an oyster or a mussel, although in the former case, it's a culinary crime to say so. I love the assertive brine of a clam, on the half shell or steamed. These littlenecks were steamed to perfection, with a tasteful appointment of firm black beans and small chunks of dried chorizo. Gilding shellfish with a greasy, smoky sausage is always a pro move.
Rhonda tried the lobster bisque, a dish she favors quite possibly due to serially excellent executions of the corn and crab chowder at the Knife and Fork. It was perfectly viscous, avoiding the gloopy texture you'll find at a lesser establishment, and redolent of shellfish roasted into the stock.
Aaron tried the charred octopus, which I am always tempted by, but often avoid, having watched a lot of YouTube videos demonstrating how much smarter octopi are than, say, me. I tried a bite, and it was pleasingly soft, with a nice smoky chair.
For entrees, I went with the sea bass after wrestling with the wild boar tenderloin. Wild boar and I have a history: on our trip in 2000 to Sienna, Italy, wild board ragù was on every menu, often served with pici pasta, a long tubular noodle expressly designed for soaking up condimento. I recently found boar on a local eatery's menu, but it had sold out before I could order the dish. I was similarly tempted by the pork osso bucco and the venison tenderloin; there is something about a chilly fall night that invites a curated meat dish, especially game. But I had sucked down my share of wine that afternoon, and future meals loomed in the horizon, so I went with the special.
This was a spectacular dish: perfectly crisp skin, tender, flaky flesh, all piled atop cherry tomatoes and asparagus. Not a carb in sight. It's the kind of dish you can eat and lick clean and not feel bad about it.
Rhonda went for the lamb chops, which looked fabulous. Aaron, my adventurous counterpart in all things culinary, waited to hear what I ordered before pulling the trigger on the boar. Plated tastefully around a mound of mashed sweet potatoes and a pile of asparagus, it was a sous vide masterpiece, cooked to a perfect medium rare.
The service was attentive and brisk, with impeccable pacing. This all fell apart once dessert was ordered; it took a long time to come out, and we had to flag down a server to bring us our check. It had been a long day of driving, and we were keen to get back to the room for some rest. And maybe some more wine.
I would go back in a heartbeat. It is, to my taste, the perfect spot to celebrate with the ones you cherish the most on a chilly night. Or any night, I imagine. read more