Every city and town has a venue or two or three preferred by the “Ladies who Lunch .” Perhaps a restaurant, a hotel, maybe a country club. For my college graduation, my friend Peter gave me a subscription to “Gourmet” magazine, and I soon realized that Lutece and La Caravelle were “the” places in Manhattan to not only see and be seen, but to dine for lunch rather than grab a cream cheese on date nut bread at Chock full o’ Nuts or a hot dog at Zum Zum. Sadly, 35 years later, Lutece and La Caravelle shuttered their doors and I never did get to either of them. About the same time, I cancelled my subscription to “Gourmet;” coincidental, but a sign of the times. No one was eating like that anymore.
Haute had already morphed to nouvelle, then to contemporary American, then regional, then farm-to-table. Now, it’s a global free-for-all, and it’s not surprising to see Korean Fried Chicken on the same menu with a Tomahawk ribeye, Grilled Octopus, and Shrimp & Grits.
Even though American cuisine evolves in an ever-interesting and often healthful way, there’s still sentimental attachment to and a desire for the dishes we knew growing up. (The dining highlight of my childhood were birthdays and holidays at Patricia Murphy’s Candlelight in Manhasset, Long Island where a cocktail, unlimited hot popovers and a complete dinner with entrees like prime rib, spring lamb, or fresh seafood-stuffed filet of sole with shrimp sauce cost under $10.) Dining out remains a social occasion for us, but lunching out, once my business staple, has become infrequent, typically a birthday lunch with “the girls.”
…Still I hanker for that “Ladies Who Lunch” experience — not the snob appeal, not the formality, and not the food per se — but the privilege of escape from everyday routine. When I think about lunch spots, I remember my decades in Manhattan. For those not among the well-heeled or red-heeled, there were places that were expensive enough, like Peacock Alley at The Waldorf, The Palm Court at The Plaza and, for average folks, Schrafft’s, which I remember fondly.
However, it was the department stores – Lord & Taylor’s Bird Cage in New York, Wanamaker’s Crystal Tea Room in Philadelphia; Macy’s Walnut Room, Chicago; The Hibiscus Tea Room in Burdines, Miami; The Tea Room at Bullock’s on Wilshire, LA — that were special to the many of us. Today the tradition continues at places like BG at Bergdorf’s and L’Avenue at Saks Fifth in Manhattan, Colette Grand Café at Holt Renfrew, Montreal, and Neiman Marcus’ Zodiac Room in Dallas, grandmom of contemporary department store dining.
It was only one express subway stop between my office and Bloomingdale’s on 59th St. and Lexington in Manhattan when its Forty Carrots 12-seat lunch bar opened in 1975. We would hop on a train and instead of a traditional lunch, we’d luxuriate in the tart, creamy frozen yogurt Bloomies’ introduced to the city. Substantially enlarged and replicated nationwide, Forty Carrots still claims its proprietary frozen yogurt as its biggest seller. (The yogurt, unique in its abundance of active yogurt cultures, is the only frozen yogurt so enriched.)
We went to Forty Carrots at Boca Town Center anticipating a smaller version of its Manhattan cousin and were surprised to find it even smaller than that. Just a handful of tables skirt the salad counter where you order and pay. It’s designed as a quick stopover in the midst of the Baccarat crystal and Villeroy & Boch china.
Still, having a history with Forty Carrots, we had to give it a go, choosing from an assortment of salad platters and build-your-own salads, wraps and sandwiches, numerous toppings for the plain or daily flavor frozen yogurt, and four types of smoothies. Everything we ordered was excellent, from the Flagship Trio Platter, a scoop each of Classic Tuna, Sonoma Chicken (grapes, cashews, celery, raisins and tarragon mayo) and Egg Salad on a bed of very fresh mixed field greens; grilled Turkey Reuben (turkey, Swiss, lettuce, tomato, Russian dressing and creamy slaw on rye); and a Strawberry Surprise Smoothie, made with signature plain frozen yogurt, bananas, honey, strawberries and skim milk. Other top recommendations include the Forty Carrots Chopped Salad with grilled chicken, avocado, chick peas, hard-boiled egg and an assortment of veggies; Roasted Vegetable Panini on ciabatta with goat cheese and basil pesto; the Sonoma Chicken Salad on Walnut Raisin Bread; and, if you don’t give in to frozen yogurt for dessert, try a Piña Colada Smoothie.
Also in Town Center is Nordstrom’s, where Bazille is the signature restaurant. A retreat from the bright, white lights of the retail floor, Bazille is presented as a “bistro,” accurate from the American, if not the French (cozy, affordable, homestyle cooking), point of view. The bistro is named for Frederic Bazille, a relatively unknown painter whose promising career began as Impressionism was born. He shared studio space with Monet and Renoir and socialized with Emile Zola, Édouard Manet and Alfred Sisley, but lost his life at 29 in the Franco-Prussian war. We can only surmise that his potential and artistic flair, not to mention the impressive company he kept, inspired the venue’s name.
Although the ambiance is more like Seasons 52 than a charming boîte, focus on the menu. Start off with a signature soup such as Crab Bisque, Roma Tomato Basil, or try The Best Part of French Onion Soup, a bowl of sweet onions stewed in broth and topped with a generous garlic crostini and a crown of golden gruyere and provolone, dusted with parmesan and chives. Several savory small plates, either appetizers or a light meal, include Kung Pao Brussel Sprouts, with chunks of chicken sausage and toasted peanuts, are balanced with sweet soy and Arbol chiles; Crisp Calamari is served with jalapeño basil aioli. Cilantro Lime Chicken Tacos, meant as a shared starter, is enough for an entree in my world.
Bazille offers three-cheese pizza and a daily pizza, both on gluten-free cauli crust if desired. Salads include a Wild Salmon Niçoise, exacting in every way; jumbo lump Crab, Mango & Avocado; and Green Goddess with farro and quinoa, hard-cooked egg, avocado, spinach and pickled red onion. Sandwiches are served with salt & pepper-crush fries and kalamata olive aïoli or garden salad. The Nordstrom Burger is topped with sharp white cheddar and roasted garlic aioli, but consider the Prime French Dip on a Parmesan baguette, au jus; Roasted Turkey & Avocado with BLT and peppercorn aioli; or the Crispy Chicken Sandwich, a Southern-accented home run with pimento cheese, bacon, sweet pickles and roasted garlic aioli.
Several tasty House Specialties accentuate various textures, from lush to crunch: Portabella Mushroom Ravioli in parmesan cream sauce; Ricotta Gnocchi with Chicken Meatballs; Wild Salmon with Saffron Couscous, cucumber, tomato, feta and Tzatziki sauce; and ale-battered Halibut & Chips served with fresh slaw and remoulade. Desserts are few, but the Bread Pudding is always a winner.
Mariposa, tucked away on the second floor of nearby Neiman Marcus, has the sleek look of a museum restaurant – simple, contemporary, to the point. That’s as it should be, because the food is the focus. NM’s menu is sentimental yet fresh. Salads and sandwiches are elegant throwbacks, while the entrees are all on trend. You know I wax nostalgic about many restaurants that are no longer with us, so you’ll understand how excited I was when we settled down at our reserved table (not necessary), placed our order, and were promptly served complimentary giant hot popovers with strawberry butter! If you know the famous movie line, “You had me at hello…” you understand how I felt about dining here.
Families (drawn by a great kids’ menu), shoppers and self-confident ladies of a certain age filled tables, munching on truffle fries and finger sandwiches. A cup of seasonally inspired daily soup, just $8, along with the complimentary popover, seemed a favorite lunch of younger patrons. Salads include Seafood Louie, an investment, but it’s worth it, featuring an overload of jumbo lump crabmeat and shrimp atop romaine with avocado, hard-cooked egg, radish, cucumber, tomato and the required Louie dressing. There’s much debate as to which northwestern dining establishment actually created this dish in the early 1900s, but all agree the dressing is key. It requires mayonnaise and catsup or chili sauce, plus Worcestershire, and possibly Tabasco, horseradish, even mustard. The meaty NM Chicken Salad combines chicken chunks, mayo, fresh and sun-dried fruit, toasted almonds and shaved celery, set on mixed greens with lemon vinaigrette. The Mandarin Orange Soufflé, as beautiful as it sounds, is served with a scoop of NM chicken salad, fruit, and the sweet bread of the day.
Grilled Shrimp Wedge of baby iceberg is dressed with bacon, blue cheese dressing, tomato and pickled red onion. The Black Angus NM Burger on brioche is accented with sharp cheddar and chipotle mayo, while the Tuna Melt on whole wheat pairs pecan tuna salad and sharp cheddar with tomato, red onion and cornichon gherkins. The California Club stacks avocado, tomato, cucumber, sprouts and Swiss on wheat toast, shmeared with pesto aiöli. Main selections are updated classics — Vegetable Brie Quiche; blackened Salmon Tacos; a Warm Grains bowl with red quinoa, veggies, avocado and a protein – including jumbo lump crabmeat – with carrot-ginger sauce; and luscious Lemon Butter Crab Pasta, studded with bits of fresh spinach, chili flakes, spring onion and herbs, bathed in lemon and garlic-ginger butter.
Wherever you choose to lunch, make this respite from the humdrum a delicious bite of joie de vivre!
