Even the vegetarian dinner ($39), based on wild mushrooms, has multiple components, with a course of whole-wheat lasagna (actually ribbons the width of tagliatelle on layers of wild mushrooms, enhanced with truffle oil and some spinach), followed by mushroom pot pie with onions, potatoes, and parsnips under a huge pouf of puff pastry. Since when does the vegetarian get the comfort food?
The Marliave's wine list is extensive and reasonably priced, though it doesn't start until the high $30s. We had a bottle of 2006 Bernard Baudry "Les Granges" Chinon ($38). This one is made from young vines, and was very light for a Chinon, with enough acidity for the food, but not a lot else going for it. We were happier with 2005 Château Pesquié Côtes-du-Ventoux Cuvée Terrasses ($45), a big basket of fruit with plenty of oomph to take on the big Rhône names. A request for a Coke ($2.50) produces a souvenir bottle some will remember from the 1950s as a "nickel Coke."
Desserts continue the cubist theme of many takes on one flavor. For chocolate ($10), there's a piece of flourless chocolate cake, a truffle, and a rather good dish of chocolate pudding. For vanilla ($10), it's a half-size crème brûlée, a mini-cup of tiramisu, and a somewhat bland little cupcake. Ice cream ($10) is actually the wild and crazy dessert here: you can choose three of four flavors, and we picked mint, ginger, and lavender. Mint and ginger ice creams are always welcome, but I sometimes forget that soap-like aromas, such as lavender, are nicely tempered in ice cream.
Service of such a complicated menu was accomplished well despite a wedding party taking up the other dining room. We were in the now-enclosed former terrace, with only the view over Province Street and a few topiary plants to remind us of the less formal days of the Marliave Restaurant (the name used to be reversed). Herritt has even stripped plenty of the old wallpaper and removed the more recent frou-frou decorations to get at the older frou-frou underneath. Some walls are textured like tin ceilings.
We'll go back wearing fedoras to try the more casual speakeasy food in the bar, but it won't be without an envious glance at the people going up the staircase. The era of splurge dinners may be coming to an end, but upstairs at the Marliave is the most fun culinary excess I've had in quite a while. With a few more vegetables worked in, the two-course entrée could become a bigger fad than tapas.
Robert Nadeau can be reached at RobtNadeau@aol.com.
