To Tarry or Not to Tarry?

My 90-year-old grandmother first brought to my attention the recent opening of Mario Batali and Joseph Bastianich’s new restaurant in Port Chester, the Tarry Lodge. What was once a rundown, run-of-the-mill, windowless Italian joint has been transformed into the green, bright, chic eatery serving up the well known restaurateurs’ Italian fair.

As she was the one to make the discovery, my grandmother took us there for dinner on an average Wednesday night. My expectations were high. I had read a lot about the Batali/Bastianich team but had never been to one of their restaurants. Most reviews for their other enterprises had been rave, but perhaps my expectations shouldn’t have been so towering for a Port Chester restaurant with mid-range prices. It’s not New York City, after all.

The reservation was tough to get, but we finally snagged a 7:00 slot after several attempts. The place was packed, people crowded around the entrance, noise spilled from the many rooms and frantic hosts ran in all directions. There are two dining rooms downstairs, one larger bar room and another smaller room straight through the entrance. We got a table in the upstairs dining room, hoping it would be quieter.

The second level proved to be nearly as loud, but with less of the hustle and bustle. We were seated at a pleasant corner table and handed enormous single-page menus. I don’t really understand the purpose of such a large, obtrusive sheet of paper. You can’t set it on the table, and the only place it fits is on your lap where, if you’re my height, it comes up to your chin. Why not a smaller, more manageable menu that you’re not in a hurry to get rid of?

After some serious analysis and questions for our waitress about some unfamiliar terms, we made our decisions and placed our order. The knowledgeable sommelier also gave us some help with the vast Italian wine list. Upon his recommendation, we selected a Sardinian red, which was light in body with subtle red fruit. It was a crowd-pleasing recommendation.

While we drank our wine and waited for appetizers, one element that you could not help but notice was the blaring 80’s soundtrack pounding from unseen speakers all around. The choice of music was absurd (think along the lines of Talk Talk’s “It’s My Life” and believe me that was the best of it). The tunes were totally incongruous with the vibe and food of the restaurant. It’s as if they had chosen the music in total disregard of all other elements; the décor, the clientele, the food, the location. Obtrusive to the point of being annoying, we finally asked the sommelier to turn it down, and he graciously accommodated us. After that, we could at least converse. On to the food …

appetizers materialized promptly. I ordered the octopus with baby potatoes that I had been eyeing on the restaurant’s website. I have to say, I love octopus and was a bit disappointed. There was almost too much octopus, cut in large chunks drowned in dressing. It was overly oily and without any defining flavor. Another appetizer ordered was grilled shrimp with pickled watermelon, an interesting combination, but could have been refined. My dad ordered a bowl of faro with charred corn and some sort of fresh cheese, which was probably the best of the dishes. My mother had the new “it” meat, speck, which was paper thin and delicious. It could have used some sort of accompaniment as it was served solo on a sheet of paper like it just came from the deli slicer.

Our bread plates (and by the way, the bread was fantastic) were taken when the appetizers came, but I later saw a family sharing their appetizers. This would have been the way to go, as the aforementioned dishes were a bit overwhelming. However, there was no way to predict individual serving quantities, and sharing wasn’t suggested.

On to the main courses. My father had the squid ink pasta with corn and lobster. It tasted fine, the pasta was cooked well, but it was nothing special. With those three ingredients, I really feel like something outstanding could be created. I had the gnocchi with braised oxtail. The gnocchi was very well prepared and extremely light, and the oxtail was cooked perfectly, but again, the flavors didn’t pop. My mom had the braised short rib, one of her favorite dishes. It was well seasoned although a little salty (even for a big salter like herself), but they skimped with only a trickle of polenta under the sizeable piece of meat. Winkie (Grandma) ordered eggplant parmesan, for what reason I cannot understand (she isn’t a vegetarian), and I think it was decent, but I didn’t hear any rave reviews coming from her side of the table.

So there ends my first encounter with the famed Italian-style restaurateurs. On the down side, the food was just okay. I had expected bolder, fresher flavors, something thrilling to the palate. I knew the food would be rustic, and not too technical, but it just didn’t quite make it. After so much care and attention to the décor and service, the food and its “visual” presentation were a step down.

On the positive side, the restaurant is beautiful, ochre walls and large windows with marble sills. The servers were very knowledgeable and attentive without being pushy. And the prices were reasonable, at least for the Fairfield/Westchester/NYC area.

Although my first visit wasn’t the awesome experience I had hoped for, I would definitely give the Tarry Lodge another shot. The menu is large and varied, and perhaps we ordered wrong. The pizza looked very appetizing. Who knows? Maybe that could be the standout item that keeps you coming back as it was with the original Tarry Lodge. With some refinement of ingredients and presentation, I think the Tarry Lodge may have the potential be a neighborhood hit.