When did you know that you were an adult?
It’s not exact, but one Friday evening you look up from your veal and find the conversation ranging from NPR announcers to dishwasher cleansers. Cabernets and Chardonnays pepper the table linens and you notice that your friends are nonchalantly wearing sport coats. Sport Coats? Just a few short years ago, the guy in a sport coat would immediately be written off as “trying too hard”, and comments would be made. Now we’re comparing brands and sizes.
But as it turns out, I was really enjoying myself.
Now that I’m decidedly an adult, I’m thankful for places like Frederick’s Bistro. Frederick Costa’s newest restaurant now joins his Broadway location succinctly known as “Frederick’s”.
Mr. Costa is a most gracious host. Reservations were no problem and he greeted us at the door to take us to a private table for eight. The wait staff was professional throughout the evening, with the owner even being kind enough to catch Rich in the parking lot and reunite him with his long-lost leftover sunfish. This attention to detail continued from the perpetually topped-off water glasses to the waitress’s delightfully nervous laugh at all of Joseph’s “jokes”.Great! So how’s the food?
Sadly it’s hit and miss. The potato soup and the desserts were good, and the escargot wasn’t bad. The main courses all had grand presentation, but my high hopes weren’t met. It made me feel a bit like a boy at Christmas who asks Santa for Optimus Prime but ends up with "Eject" the cassette-shaped Autobot instead.
That’s not to say it was bad. The veal was properly cooked and had a good smoky flavor, but the mushrooms seemed like an afterthought that weren’t integrated with the main dish.
Why would an annoying little kid like me even be expecting the metaphorical Optimus Prime for Christmas?
High menu prices. Most entrees lingered in the high $20 range, which puts Frederick’s Bistro against some hefty competitors for my dining dollars.
The ambiance is of a higher caliber than the last tenant (the short-lived Eclipse Café), further elevating my expectations. I’m always pleasantly amazed when a restaurant is able to carve an upscale nook out of a spiritually bereft strip center. I guess interior design majors aren’t useless after all. Who knew?
The waitress didn’t automatically add the tip which I found to be refreshingly unusual for such a large group. The total bill came out to nearly $150 for appetizers, soup, entrees and wine for two. That puts this Bistro in for some hefty competition….
Food: 3.5 Cuy
Service: 4 Cuy
Ambiance: 4 Cuy
Value: 2.5 Cuy
Overall:
*In the interest of increasing reader participation I will award one American dollar (or one share of General Motors' stock) to the first person who can answer this question:
Why did the farmer feed his cow money?
Or just be the first to recommend a new restaurant for Friday dinner on December 5th.
With a mix of caterers, hotel restaurants, and stand-alone establishments, the clear advantage is to the caterers. They were much better prepared for serving large quantities of patrons from behind a folding table. I should hope that would be the case, as this is their (excuse the pun) bread and butter. Most of their names were forgettable, especially since I’m not currently seeking a chef for a bar mitzvah.


The restaurant has a certain “church community center” feel to it with the rectangular tables and generic chairs arranged in a reassuring grid. On Fridays you get the extra treat of live music. By live music, of course I mean that there’s an
The waitress sensed our urgency (dinner was at 10pm) and quickly presented their namesake focaccia bread, which we hoovered like Monica Lewinsky. I don’t think any of the bread actually contacted my taste buds on the way down, but I recall from past meals that it is quite good, making overindulgence inevitable. The waitress promptly requested our orders with the soothing reassurance of a 1950s telephone operator. I selected the “Medallions of Tenderloin in Burgundy Wine with Mushrooms”. The tenderloin wasn’t exactly tender, and I’m sure the musician would’ve lost his dentures on this one. Not really the melt-in-your-mouth flavor that I was hoping for from an $18 dish. The wine sauce was ok, so overall it was an average dish.
We were treated to a some pita bread with feta cheese and parsley as a starter. Immediately recognizing us as virgin Persian diners, the waitress (owner/manager?) noted that we should mix the parsley and basil with the feta cheese as it isn’t intended as garnish.
I ordered Kofta (a middle-eastern meatball) stuffed with feta cheese as an appetizer and I’m glad I did. It was really good, with the downside being that I wanted more.
It took every ounce of my willpower not to grab the lamb shank by the bone and chow down like a Neanderthal. Years of training (thanks mom!) convinced me to use my knife which proved to be a simple task. The meat fell off like a prom dress and was tasty and tender. This quality hunk of meat was juicy (a marinade, I presume) and full of lamb-tastic flavor.



After opening the massive front door, Mey and I found Phillip conspicuously flirting with the twenty-something hostess.

