319 Water Street
Ph. 754-2583
Blue on Water is a beautiful looking restaurant.
There is no doubt about that. Whoever created the decor has good taste. Even
from the outside, looking in, the sight of overflowing white tablecloths,
elegant, long stemmed burgundy style wine glasses, and splendid flatware makes
a wonderful advertisement. It's as if some unseen force is saying, "Come
in. Sit and enjoy." It's a force that eventually swayed this reviewer to
accept the implicit, if silent, invitation. Although, I do succumb pretty
easily where attractive restaurants are concerned.
Space is at a premium inside Blue on Water. For
example, on the evening I visited the server was forced, a few times, to
squeeze behind a row of diners at a table for six, in order to reach a corner
wine rack. However, generally there was plenty of elbowroom for those dining at
the restaurant’s handful of tables.
I sat with my guest at the back of the room. It
gave me a good view of the original artwork hung on Blue on Water’s
monochromatic walls. I liked a large painting that seemed to depict Gros Morne
as seen from Western Brook Pond. Small halogen lights provided subdued
lighting, with the exception of large, soft-lit paper globe lanterns that hung
like white orbs above a long bar that ran the length of the restaurant’s east
wall. Opposite the bar, the west wall revealed the texture of exposed brick,
highlighted by quiet, indirect lighting. The word “chic” came to mind as I
searched for a bon mot to describe the look of Blue on Water.
Looks aside, a high-end restaurant like Blue on
Water must also achieve a lofty level in food service. The menu I saw offered
appetizers running from about $10 to $13 and entrees from approximately $20 to
$40. Having feasted on the restaurant’s interior design and decoration, I was
more than ready to taste Blue on Water’s culinary creations.
A stunning royal blue glass bowl contained my
starter, bouillabaisse. It’s a famous Mediterranean fish stew invented in
Marseilles, France. This bouillabaisse featured mussels, shrimps, scallops,
halibut, and salmon. It had a fresh, clean taste. I enjoyed it very much,
although the broth was flat. It would have benefited from the addition of a few
ingredients that seemed to be hidden or missing, like, saffron, fennel seeds,
and olive oil.
My guest enjoyed the sherry and soy glazed
scallops with bakeapples (the rare fruit some call cloudberries). Without
doubt, the scallops were tender, moist, and large; but I found the combination
of sherry, soy sauce, and bakeapples as enrichment for scallops to be bizarre,
not to mention, cloying. Bakeapples, even in small amounts, are an acquired
taste. Personally, I love their earthy intense flavour. However, in my view,
bakeapples are way too powerful to use with scallops, especially in combination
with soy sauce and sherry! I thought they delivered a Mike Tyson knockout to
the subtle flavour of those luscious ocean morsels. One other thing - and
perhaps another reason not to use bakeapples in this dish - nobody should have
to spit out pesky bakeapple seeds (as I did) when paying top dollar. Bakeapple
seeds have an outer shell rivaling that of a Panzer tank. I found my tongue and
teeth being assaulted by four or five of these indurate kernels while I was
trying to savour the delicate meat of a scallop.
History’s great chef, Auguste Escoffier, is said
to have applied the name Veronique to dishes containing seedless grapes.
(Veronique was a favourite opera by Messager.) My entrée, chicken Veronique,
was described on the menu as, “ chicken with vermouth, green grapes, and
cream.” It was plated simply but beautifully. A thick, boneless, skinless
chicken breast sat atop a mound of lemon pepper risotto, which, in turn, sat on
fresh spinach leaves. A cream sauce covered the chicken. Red grape halves
decorated the rim of the plate. The risotto was sufficiently creamy and
delicious. I was disappointed, however, to find no evidence of grapes having
actually been incorporated into the cream sauce. That’s what I was expecting.
Instead I had to make individual stabs at the grape decorations and mix them in
with the rest of the food on my fork.
My guest, being in a self indulgent mood,
decided to treat himself to the most expensive item on the menu, the surf and turf
at $39.95. It consisted of AAA grade tenderloin, half a lobster, fire roasted
cherry peppers, mashed potato, and garlic butter. The steak was thick (about
one-and-a- half inches) and released plenty of rich flavourful juice. The
lobster, on the other hand, was overcooked. I found it somewhat dry and a
little tough. A couple of orange and yellow roasted peppers made a colourful
addition to the plate, next to the half lobster that leaned against the steak
and mashed potato. The whole arrangement made an attractive rustic palette.
I was delighted when the server informed me that
all of Blue on Water’s desserts that evening had been made on the premises. It
seems too many restaurants these days depend on frozen mass-produced desserts.
The previously frozen desserts can be quite good but I prefer something
carefully made with fresh ingredients.
My guest tried the sticky date pudding with
crème anglaise and caramel sauce. I had pictured a piece of sinfully sweet
steamed pudding loaded with sticky dates, something, if you touched it with
your fingers, you’d be licking it off for a week. What arrived looked like an
ordinary piece of steamed cake with a few bits of date inside. I tasted too
much cake and not enough date.
Frangelico is a hazelnut liqueur with a very
distinctive hazelnut flavour. I like it and was looking forward to seeing how
it worked with the Frangelico crème brulee I had ordered. Toasted almond
slivers came strewn on the plate that carried the crème brulee dish. It looked
nice enough but I simply could not taste (not even a hint of) Frangelico in the
dessert. Subtle flavouring is one thing but if you’re going to call a dessert,
“Frangelico” crème brulee, the Frangelico should at least be perceptible. Apart
from that, I thought the crème brulee was less luxurious than it should have
been. It didn’t have quite the level of decadent, silky creaminess you’ll find
in classic versions of the dessert.
Despite my criticisms, there was a lot to like
about Blue on Water. It’s nice to see restaurants of its calibre operating in
our city. However, they do need to tweak their recipes if they want to compare
favourably with the best higher-end restaurants in St. John’s.
Our meal for two at Blue on Water (including a
bottle of Carmen Grand Vidure cabernet at $42 and tip) cost $182.35.
Best Points:
Blue on Water’s décor is superior, as is their
plate presentation.
Areas for Improvement:
Give some thought to intensifying the flavours
in your food.
Ratings Category:
Blue on Water gets 7.5 points out of 10.