Matt B. and I went to Stonehouse the night we got engaged, back in 2012. The restaurant and…read moreproperty were beautiful, and we had a wonderful romantic dinner on the patio. We went back a few weeks ago, for Matt's 43rd birthday, and found a completely different restaurant.
I guess at some point, San Ysidro Ranch went all-inclusive, and Stonehouse started serving a mostly captive clientele: hotel guests who've already paid for dinner. This is fine if you're staying at the Ranch, but if you remember The Stonehouse as a fancy special occasion restaurant with a high level of service, your impression is out of date. The astronomical prices may suggest otherwise, but keep in mind that most diners aren't really paying those anyway.
We went on a drizzly Tuesday night and sat inside, missing out on the scenic patio. The dining room was nice, though, very stately, and as parents ourselves, we were not put out by the number of children in the room, the families sitting down for a casual weeknight dinner.
We were surprised, though, when we tried to order drinks and our waiter asked to see our IDs. My husband presented his license, which showed very clearly that it was his 43rd birthday. The waiter had no comment on this, and instead turned his attention to me, Matt's 40-year-old wife. I didn't have ID on me, and he refused to take my drink order. We weren't about to have an expensive birthday dinner without alcohol, so we got up to drive home and pick up my license.
But first, I decided to try my luck with a manager. Because look, I understand that I should've had my wallet, but also, I hadn't been carded at a restaurant in years. I told this to the manager, and suggested they tell customers in advance to make sure to bring ID. Instead of explaining that he needed to be careful because The Stonehouse served families with teenagers, he said it was the law, and that every restaurant should be carding aggressively. This was so disingenuous I more or less asked if he'd ever been to a restaurant. I also offered to show him a scan of my passport and the picture Matt and I took at The Stonehouse the night we got engaged in 2012, well after I turned seven.
He relented, and we were reseated without having to produce my license. I didn't hold any of this against our waiter, but we were assigned a new one anyway, and received middling service for the duration of our meal. For one thing, we asked for help picking a bottle from the massive wine book, and it took the somm an actual half hour to pay us a visit. We were done with our appetizers and had checked in with our waiter twice by the time he made his way over. The other annoyance was that no one acknowledged Matt's birthday, despite the time we spent litigating birthdays, during which I mentioned quite pointedly that we were there for his 43rd. I even told a server who checked in on me before dessert while Matt was in the bathroom, and he said he'd make sure there was a candle in our tart. Not the end of the world, but this did not happen.
The drinks, when we got them, were great, starting with cocktails, which almost tided us over until we received our wine. These were $33 a pop and kind of ridiculous, smoked tableside with a showy gadget. The Negroni Tropicale was made with grilled pineapple-infused No. 3 dry gin, Campari, Carpano Antica, and orange zest, then smoked with pecan wood. The French Quarter mixed Bardstown Ferrand Cognac-cask bourbon, Zaya 16-year rum, Benedictine, oloroso sherry, dry vermouth, and orange bitters, and was smoked with bourbon oak wood. For wine, we got a bottle of 2020 Vietti Monvigliero Barolo. This was excellent, and also a bit of a win. The bottle was barely marked up from retail, and we'll never know if The Stonehouse has exceptionally favorable wine prices or we were served the wrong vintage on accident.
Food was solid, starting with Maine lobster salad in tiny phyllo cups, a nice welcome bite. Bread basket came with pumpkin seed lavash pumpkin seed, sourdough, and rice flour rolls, with olive oil for dipping. We enjoyed a half-dozen oysters with pickled Asian pear mignonette, and Japanese yellowtail crudo with pixie tangerine, purple radish, seagrass, and shiro dashi vinaigrette. Acorn squash agnolotti were lovely, with black truffle, toasted pecans, morel mushrooms, and a goat cheese fondue. The duck a l'orange came with a show, the sauce flambéed tableside on portable burner. A lot of magic tricks on this menu, perhaps for the kids. The duck breast was good, though, over barley pilaf with Tokyo turnips, herbes de Provence, Cara Cara orange, and Grand Marnier. The herb-crusted rack of lamb was decent too, served with lamb sausage, Tuscan kale, crispy polenta, and violet mustard. For dessert, we shared the orchard Meyer lemon tart with blueberry compote and wildflower honey and lavender Chantilly.
The food was a strong A-, but not worth the money or the sub-par experience. Unless you're staying on property, avoid The Stonehouse.