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Some people pooh-pooh the notion of big-name chefs lending their
expertise and big names to luxury hotels, cruise ships, airplanes,
Vegas, Disney World - any venue that offers enough money.
Personally I'd lobby these culinary wonder boys to apply their
golden touch even to the food concessions at sports arenas and
Amtrak terminals as well. Face it: The days of American chefs
using their fame simply as marquee draws for single restaurants
are over. We have seen the future of fine dining and it is
everywhere.
Mark Militello has also seen the future, and l it looks a lot like
an upscale mall. Militello, who has been innovatively cooking up
fresh, local ingredients in "New American" fashion for some 20
years now, first traipsed into the spotlight with his original
Mark's Place in North Miami Beach. That restaurant no longer
exists, but he has maintained his loyal following and stream of
critical kudos with subsequent successes. Mark's Las Olas , Mark's
South Beach, and Mark's in the Park, which opened a little more
than two years ago amid the glittery stores of Mizner Park. That
first foray into a high-end shopping center evidently worked well
enough to propel Militello into trying again, this time with
Mark's CityPlace in West Palm Beach.
CityPlace itself is more open and urbane than most massive modern
malls; the center square actually feels like a village meeting
place, with milling crowds entertained by live music and assorted
goings-on. These festivities are visible from Mark's upstairs
location -as is the Cheesecake Factory. Mark's is certainly above
that chain in the context of quality dining as well, but even so,
surprising similarities exist between the two spots; Mark's
CityPlace is a big, bustling restaurant that, by offering pizza
and sushi, appeals to a wider, more cheese-cakey demographic than
Militello's other ventures. And while I don't believe that a lack
of linen tablecloths or a server to grind your pepper mill
reflects negatively upon a restaurant's sophistication, the copper
salt-shaker and pepper mill on each bare wooden table do suggest a
certain informality.
An elevated bar and cocktail lounge sit to the left of the
entrance; a 12-stooled, crescent-shape sushi bar in the center; an
open kitchen in the back; and lots of indoor and outdoor tables
everywhere else. warm earth tones intermingle with modern touches
that by themselves would not be accurately described as
"attractive" (the adornment of wrought iron are tortuously
twisted, and the ceiling looks like a design student's project to
turn attic insulation into art) but fit reasonably well into the
composite d»cor. Although this is a comfortable and stylish room,
as intimate as a two-level, 240-seat eatery can.
Militello probably won't be on the premises when you dine here
(chef de cuisine Henry Marchman runs the kitchen), but the food is
unmistakably his. That means combinations of big, often earthy
flavors with lighter gastronomic delicacies. White truffle
macaroni and cheese certainly exemplifies this spirit as well as
any other dish, and while adding truffle oil to this American
classic might strike some as any other dish, and while adding
truffle oil to this American classic might strike some as being
sacrilegious (kind of like misting Humphrey Bogart with perfume),
the resultant tastes is intoxicating. A strong
French/Mediterranean influence runs through Militello's creations
as well, with almost negligible nods to global and New World
cuisines. The sole Asian dishes, besides those offered at the
sushi bar, are a tuna tartare starter with pickled ginger sweet
soy, and Togarashi crackers and a main course of ginger and shoyu
marinated sea bass with soba noodles. And while a few salads
contain hints of apple or pear, the only other fruits in sight are
pineapple gastrique atop a duck confit appetizer and orange fennel
salad alongside a pan-seared salmon. This may surprise those who
still equate Militello with his "Mango Gang" roots, but he and his
one-time fellow travelers have scurried from that label the way
Hollywood's elite once fled from the word socialism. ("Mr.
Militello, are you now or have you been a member of any
organization that promoted the use of tropical fruits in
cooking?")
Wood burning ovens are practically obligatory in contemporary
American restaurants, and the one at Mark's churns out thin,
blistery designer pizzas with charred crusts and trendy toppings
such as shrimp, pesto, sun-dried tomatoes, and fontina cheese.
Pies are normally nifty to share as appetizers, though in the
aftermath of indulging in thick, buttered slices of soft, warm
breads, you may wish to opt for a less doughy starter. I recommend
one of the shellfish or crustacean selections, because forgoing
shellfish now means missing it entirely-it's confined solely to
the appetizer section. There are plenty from which to choose,
including white-water clams pan-roasted with tasso smoked pork;
fried calamari with lemon bread salad; fresh shrimp with tomato,
black olives, capers, and feta cheese; and crunchy soft-shell crab
with Dijon aïoliand a "fingerling potato salad" composed of room
temperature spuds, green and yellow wax beans, and a tangy smoked
bacon-lemon vinaigrette. I hesitate to make fun of the crab's puny
size, as I imagine it must have already spent its short life being
subjected to such ridicule by other, plumper crabs, but I suggest
sticking with one of Mark's signature appetizers: a duet of
succulent diver scallops, seared golden brown, with morsels of
Jamaican spiced oxtail, a small mound of "Cuban sweet potatoes"
(mashed boniato), and a shiny pool of rich, sticky, delectable
veal reduction. If this dish weren't so imaginatively
conceptualized, prettily presented, and highly priced, you'd be
tempted to call it comfort food.
The fourteen entrees can be broken down as follows: one risotto
(with wild mushrooms and white-truffle oil); two poultry dishes
(mahogany-glazed duck and Bell & Evans chicken, both roasted in
wood-burning oven); three pastas (sausage-and-broccoli rabe,
chicken and white beans, and Bolognese); a quartet of red meats;
and the Big Four in the world of restaurant seafood (Atlantic
salmon, Chilean se bass, yellowfin tuna, and mahi mahi). We
sampled the latter two fishes; both were pristine and scrumptious
but mildly marred by execution. Oregon chanterelles and a
luxurious foie gras veal reduction teamed with celeriac purée and
a chive-tied bundle of haricots verts for a uniquely delicious
take on black peppercorn-crusted, seared rare yellowfin tuna.
Unfortunately the otherwise fantastic dish suffered from that
trademark Mark's lukewarmness, thanks to the meticulousness of the
plating process.
No such problem with jumbo lump crab-crusted mahi mahi or its
robust embellishments of oven-roasted rosemary potato spears, a
salsify-and-wild mushroom ragôut slightly salty with pancetta and
horseradish butter. The fish was cooked perfectly, but the
crabcake-like coating didn't brown or crisp as well as it should
have.
Roast garlic-suffered tenderloin of beef has been a staple at
Mark's since his first restaurant; when something is this
terrific, it makes sense to keep it. The filet's juicy, ruby red
center was as tender as a kiss, accompanied by crunchy-fresh
spring peas, baked Gorgonzola polenta, sweet onion confit glazing
the top of the meat, and a deep rosemary-cabernet sauce below.
It's the ability to produce this balanced diversity of flavors,
aromas, and textures that gives chefs such as Militello "big name"
status. A generous slice of molten chocolate torte with coconut
ice cream came to the table very cold and not at all molten. We
spared the kitchen the trouble of extra zapping in the microwave
by just going with our other two choices: double chocolate
croissant bread pudding paired with luscious white-chocolate-chip
ice cream and sweet, crumbly apple tart with honey-vanilla ice
cream and toffee sauce.
Mark's Cityplace cant be help but suffer by comparison: The food
at his Las Olas location is overall more dazzling, at South Beach
more personal and refined. Yet these seeming shortcomings are very
likely by design. The operating strategy at Mark's CityPlace seems
focused on keeping appreciative family diners coming back rather
than trying to impress restaurant reviewers looking for
gastronomic epiphanies. Residents of West Palm Beach should not
feel cheated; even at his most formulaic, Militello is still
better than most formulaic, Militello is still better than most
chefs at their ground-breaking best.
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