Meritage: All the World's a Stage

Let us consider this waiter in the cafe. His movement is
quick and forward, a little too precise, a little too rapid. He bends forward a
little too eagerly; his voice, his eyes express an interest a little too
solicitous for the order of the customer. He is playing, he is amusing himself.
But what is he playing? We need not watch long before we can explain it: he is
playing at being a waiter in a cafe. There is nothing there to surprise
us."

— Jean-Paul Sartre, from Being and Nothingness

All fine dining has an element of theater, and fantasy: you
make believe you are in a bistro in Paris, the waiters pretend you are somebody
really important. Unless either the waiter or the customer takes themselves too
seriously, everybody knows it’s just play. The plot thickens a bit when
the guy who plays the customer is actually a restaurant critic pretending not
to be a restaurant critic, and the staff who play waiters and hosts are all
pretending that they don’t know that the guy at table four is a restaurant
critic.

Our waitress spotted
me the minute we walked in the door at Meritage, but I didn’t figure this out
until chef-owner Russell Klein (formerly of W.A. Frost) came up and introduced
himself at the end of the evening. In the meantime, we had a great time – great
food, smart service – and the very enjoyable sense that everybody involved in
the restaurant was having fun, and not taking themselves too seriously. Our
server, Mel,was prompt, attentive, and knowledgeable about the food and wine –
and at the same time quirky and funny, and seemed to be playing her role with a
wink. It is just theater after all.
Haven’t we seen you somewhere before, my wife asked? Yes, she waited on
us once at Toast – she remembered serving my wife, and she thought maybe I was
there too.

The dapper maitre d’, Ross, brought around a trolley to show
Meritage’s “cheese program” – a selection of five fromages, including a
Roquefort, a Tomme chevre washed in Muscadet, a Brie de Meaux, another flavored with walnut liqueur, and a Vermont cave-aged Shepard cheddar, each available for $5 an ounce. Mel confided in a conspiratorial tone that Ross had actually been
Mariah Carey’s private butler. Mel said this was not for publication, but when
I spoke to Ross later, he volunteered the fact, and said it was okay to
publish. In any case, he played the part perfectly, with just the right air of
gravitas. He also told me that his full title is maitre de fromage.

Meritage looks about the same as it did when it was A
Rebours, and it still presents itself as a French bistro. Klein got his formal
training at the French Culinary Institute in New York City, so when it comes to
cassoulet and coq au vin, (Tuesdays, $22) he knows his stuff. But he’s not
taking any of this stuff too seriously, either. Klein takes the idea of a
bistro and plays with it, subvert it, serving up matzo ball soup and a classic
American burger with fries alongside the foie gras and cassoulet, and offering
a matzo and nutella sandwich for dessert.

The food was delightful. Klein didn’t actually cook for
us – he spent the evening at a nearby
table, having dinner with his wife, Desta, who doubles as hostess and
bartender, and his mother, who was visiting from out of town. Good for him – he
has his priorities in order. The rest of the kitchen crew did just fine. I
started with one of bite-sized “amusements” – a tiny tuna tartare taco,
followed by a juicy 1/3 pound burger, enlivened with chopped onions and a dash
of Worcestershire, and a generous pile of fries on the side.

Vegetarian entrees often seem like an afterthought, but
Klein’s “composition of autumn vegetables” ($16) was an inspired combination: a
short stack of small pumpkin pancakes accompanied by a sunchoke frittata of
caramelized Brussels sprouts and carrots. Our other entrée was a winner as
well:– four large scallops, topped with toasted hazelnuts, accompanied by kale,
squash, white beans and a brown butter sauce ($25). Ordering scallops at local
restaurants seems to be a lot like Russian roulette, with about four chambers
loaded: most of the time, you get “wet-packed” scallops, treated with sodium
tri-poly phosphate, which makes them retain water (so they can be sold more
cheaply), but robs them of their sweetness. To judge by the sweet succulent
flavor, these were dry-packed.

We finished with a couple more bite-sized amusements – the
nutella matzo sandwich, and a tiny cup of espresso mousse. Next time, I’ll save
room for one of the more ambitious dessert offerings, like the warm chocolate
hazelnut cake served with a salty caramel ice cream or the chilled grand marnier
soufflee (both $7).