REVIEW CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS PAGE

~ Salads ~

As a fan of mustard, I opted for the deconstructed “Mustard Salad,” featuring rows of Mustard Leaves topped with sweet, thin-sliced Seckel Pear, Pickled Mustard Seeds, crushed walnuts, and a pork terrine called Brawn. Everything worked about the salad except for the brawn, which was unappetizingly fatty and gelatinous. Thankfully, it was a rare off-note.

“Ice Cubes” featured three cubes of Crunchy Iceberg Lettuce spilling over with Rogue River Cheese and Buttermilk Emulsion.

Winter Mushroom salad included the amusingly named Tango Lettuce, Parmesan Brick Dough Tangle, and Peanut Vinaigrette.

Woodlands’ Signature Caesar Salad arrived in the same architectural configuration as last year, with the dressed Romaine lettuce bracketed by two frame-shaped Pecorino “Crackers.” The Romaine structure was given a thin-shaved Parmesan roof and flanked by a poached quail egg and a coiled white anchovy. The front of the “salad” was then drizzled with a line of dressing dots. This was a salad befitting a destination restaurant.

For our second bottle of wine, Stephane selected a 2005 Dr. Schreiber, made from Dornfelder grapes in Germany. Stephane said the red wine’s creaminess was derived from being aged in an oak barrel. He also described the wine as being similar to a Syrah. However it was made and whatever it’s like, it was like nothing I’ve ever tasted, with minimal acidity but fairly big flavor.

~ Main Course ~

Two of us ordered the Juniper Scented Venison Loin, two seared medallions of burgundy-hued Bambi on Rorshach-like streaks of Salsify Puree and scattershot Cranberry “Grand Venour.” Completing the dish were irregularly shaped hacks of Sausage “Crumble,” microgreens, and potato chip-like strips of fried parsnip, which added a nice crunch.

Since my father could happily subsist on an all-hog diet, he ordered the Crispy Suckling Pig. The rich slab of fat-rimmed baby pig was topped with grilled cardoons – a cousin of the artichoke – and a crispy sliver of fried pig skin. On the opposite side of the plate was a barley cake topped with “Egg Confit,” which looked like a dinosaur egg fossil. Separating the elements was an S-shaped squiggle of Sauce Robert. Fitting, considering that’s my father’s first name.

Alma selected “Manchester Farm Quail Wrapped in Grape Leaves, Boudin Blanc, Smoked Grapes, Warm Olive Aioli.” The quail was sheathed in a bulbous veal sausage (boudin blanc), which was browned, bound by a single grape leaf and inserted with a quail bone, creating a lollipop effect. The pop was partially submerged in the millimeters-thin layer of olive oil with two spinach leaves, two baby carrots, a sweet cipollini onion and a single roasted grape.

Hay Smoked Swordfish arrived in rosy slices on a bed of Braised Swiss Chard and sliced Winter Mushrooms and plated on a shallow pool of Beurre Rouge.

Crisp-skinned Pan Roasted Rockfish fillet was plated on a Clam-Potato Fricassee that was accented by translucent shavings of Dry Cured Lonzino and a buttery Clam Reduction. The local fish was topped with a browned tangle of broccolini.

For “Pre-Dessert,” we each received bracing mint panna cotta topped with a single blueberry that was shaved in half.

~ Desserts ~

Alma selected the nouveau take on S’mores: cylinders of Smoked Chocolate Mousse, which tasted like they had been smoked before being encased in dark chocolate. Toasted Marshmallow was sandwiched between two Graham Cookies. The plate was finished with sweet shards of English Toffee and a drizzling of caramel sauce.

Our waiter poked my ethereal Seckel Pear Soufflé before pouring in a small pitcher of Brown Butter Anglaise. The soufflé was feather-light but contained enough sugar to have formed an achingly thin granule crust. The plate was beautifully decorated with a drizzle of dark chocolate that looked like it had been designed on an Etch-A-Sketch. The plate was completed with a skinned Seckel pear, a tiny variety known for its natural sweetness. There was even a mix of pastry “leaves” and actual leaves, all edible.

The surprisingly traditional Granny Smith Apple “Strudel” featured the softest pastry wrapping, the Cinnamon Ice Cream added a nice temperature counterpoint to the warm strudel, and the shaved almonds lent the dessert textural balance, but the orb of Golden Raisin Puree was jolting, much too intense.

My father selected the Chocolate Covered Cherry Cake, which was strewn with Peanut Candy, plated on a deep red cherry sauce and topped with chocolate cream topped with crushed cocoa nibs. The dessert came with a Tiny Root Beer Float holding a peppermint white chocolate “straw.”

Greg ordered a cheese course for dessert, the plate divided by a streak of balsamic vinegar. In the upper right hand corner was a veined blue cheese paired with candied pecans. That was the only cheese that was recognizable. In the bottom left hand corner was a dish that divided its tasters at the table, of which I was not one. Greg found it “pungent,” but other people were overwhelmed.

With coffee, the table received a stack of six almond biscotti dipped in dark chocolate.

With the check, both women, including my pictured stepmother Jane, received a package of ribbon-wrapped, house-made benne wafers, studded with white and black sesame seeds. Bennes are a traditional Lowcountry snack.

On our hour-long drive home, with Christmas songs as our soundtrack, we inevitably discussed our experience. Yet again, we weren’t able to find much fault. Our reservation was nearly cancelled, the brawn may have let me down, and the deconstructed “apple cider” may not have tickled our taste buds after all, but on the whole, those were fairly minor quibbles. Based on the creativity and flavor that Chef King was able to generate, he clearly deserves a post in one of the best kitchens in the land. We’re already looking forward to Christmas Eve, 2008.