A fine-dining
haven in a strip mall in East Greenbush? Sure enough,
just as the sun was setting, we found such a
contradiction as we wound our way over the Dunn Memorial
Bridge and out Routes 9 & 20 to Chez Mike.
Self-described as Eclectic American, the menu proffers a
satisfying range of appetizers and entrées, most of the
entrées clustered in the low-$20 range, salads not
included.The salad/app
course choices this evening:
--> Caesar Salad (Chay, Deb T, Kriss, Ken: all
deemed very good)
--> Arugula salad special, with roasted beets,
pickled red onion, goat cheese, pistachios, port wine
vinaigrette (Deb K: very good); Deb T had a version of
this with her entrée
--> Chilled Corn Soup, with lime cream and chili oil
(Don: a worthy try, interesting, but thinner than
expected)
From the entrée
list:
--> Corn/Cheddar Risotto, with Cajun spiced shrimp
and local country ham (Chay: very good)
--> Pork & Peach Milanese: breaded thin pork
cutlet, roasted peaches, arugula, feta, roasted red
onion, balsamic (Deb T: very good, typical pork; the
sides complemented well)
--> New England Style Seafood Chowder, with little
neck clams, shrimp, haddock, sea scallops, dice potatoes,
bacon (Deb K: good, fresh, not her chowder consistency, a
bit salty, wanted more filler)
--> NY Strip Au Poivre special, with Yukon Gold
mashed potatoes, haricot verts, brandy-green peppercorn
pan sauce (Ken, Kriss: both ordered medium-well, one with
sauce on side, both very good to excellent
--> Grilled swordfish special, with sweet potato
hash, sautéed corn, poblano pepper, braised black beans,
salsa verde (Don: excellent, meaty, with the sides adding
layers of flavor)
The drink list included
a bottle of Casa Lapostolle 2012 Carmenere (a very
infrequent choice on restaurant lists) and two
water/sodas.
We bided our time for
dessert decisions, with little jumping out at us. One
person ordered a scoop of ice cream, instigating three to
follow. The ice cream was advertised as made
on-premise and, for a change, home-made ice cream tasted
as good as it should.
Deb tried the cinnamon-pecan (loved it, I tried but not
my pleasure zone); Deb K the marshmallow (she moaned);
very berry (Don: excellent, with good flavor and chunks
of fruit); a
Kriss ordered the chocolate. Ohmyohmyohmy. Viscuous but
not cloying, fudgy but not thick, with chocolate
explosions from tip of tongue to back of throat. Don and
Kriss v
And Ken ordered the only “real” dessert –
the lemon tart, with a side of strawberries and cream.
(good, I think he said, but our ice cream sounded better)
At dinner’s
beginning, two wire, cloth-lined baskets arrived with
diagonally sliced French bread, accompanied by Kalamata
olive softened butter. Bridget warned us the butter was
as good as crack, not that she knew anything about crack,
provoking an early laugh.
The bill, per couple, with tax, tip, and drinks came to
exactly a C-note.
Service by “Bridget” fit our group quite
harmoniously. A bit shy and diffident at first, in almost
a conspiratorial presence, warmed to us, giving advice as
asked for, adding information in manageable chunks,
maintaining Ken’s coffee fix, and checking in
without being obtrusive.
She, with other waitstaff, brought out orders, not my
favorite method if the other waitstaff has to ask where
orders go but Chez Mike got it right, with one exception,
quickly re-positioned. Water glasses were filled
regularly and plates whisked away appropriately. Good
service is easy to assume, but we do not take it for
granted, as we have observed over the years.
We
got off to a slow start, mostly our fault. Bridget came
to take orders and we were focused on our calendars,
checking for DP8 dates for the rest of the year. We
motioned to come back in a minute, and it took ten. But,
when things started, the pace kept a comfortable
schedule, and we actually left Chez Mike a bit short of
two hours.
Ambiance was…. interesting. The room was classic
strip-mall store floor space, decorated as nicely as can
be, with a chest high wall dividing the main restaurant
space from a small bar and sitting area in the rear,
which one would not see unless visiting the bathrooms.
A
dark paneled, sound proof ceiling created a closer
feeling. Seven booths lined the right side, a wall length
banquette lined the left, and about ten tables filled the
center. Two of the sturdy, dark-wood tables were pushed
together for us, with Chay and Ken anchoring the ends. A
cloth-wrapped set of a knife and two forks, along with a
small plate, marked each place. A combination of panel
wainscoting on the one side matched the rose pastel of
the banquette side. The semi-high noise level abated as
the evening went on, and the cool air AC current settling
over one end of the table eased within ten minutes. Soft
music filled the background, audible only toward
evening’s end.
Lighting was the classic recessed store ceiling type,
with the more interesting sets of six sconces of
red/white swirl glass along the side walls.
One would not tout the ambiance of Chez Mike as
outstanding but credit is given their efforts.
The evening started
at the Teator house, on a late September afternoon warm
enough to avail ourselves of the deck. Plates of
crackers, salsa, hummus, two kinds of pizza bites (from
the new Freehold pizzeria), cheese, and grapes awaited,
accompanied by a Finger Lakes wine, two gin & tonics,
and IPA.
Topics of discussion at the house, in the car, and at the
restaurant included:
No fill-ins for the evening, leaving us at DP6;
Deb’s pastel gallery in the sunroom; a sale or two
of a painting; a Cranwell expedition by the Karneses;
Minnie Brynnie, or the second bundle of joy for the
Monteverds; quiet street tensions; a Teator trip to
Deerfield and Manchester; dwindling summer; the Notar
trip to Alaska, and now somewhere else, running
competition with the Wexlers and Adamses; the
Adamses’ month in Paris and environs; Denman, out in
the wilds some place; the Quinn kids and college and
work; no politics; no religion, except for the Pope in
NYC; the Monteverds’ new Florida house and details;
post hole digging and fence building across from the
Teator house; driving 787 vs I90/87 for the Freehold/East
Greenbush connection; departure dates for Florida or
elsewhere; DP8 dates until January; Deb taking a green
peppercorn from Ken’s plate (gasp)...; and other
topics that have eluded my bear trap memory!
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