The Woodward House
From Connecticut Magazine
Bethlehem
Originals by Peter Max, Guy Buffet, Le Kniff, Tarkay — modern artists whose work is shown at top galleries and museums around the world — sparkle on the walls of a 1740 saltbox in Bethlehem. A year ago, the historic building long known as the Bird Tavern became an upscale restaurant called The Woodward House. Chef Jerry Reveron and his wife Adele collect modern art and display it to brilliant effect in four gemlike dining rooms. Anachronistic, perhaps, but the track lighting, bright colors and striking paintings are a breath of fresh air in a culture where we tend to associate old buildings with dark wood paneling and antique furniture.
From the outside, the building looks as it might have 200 years ago. Inside, the characteristic pattern of small rooms has been retained, each painted a different color and furnished with simple good taste and an eye to comfort. I could have sat in my ruby-red high-backed upholstered chair all night. The service, unfailingly attentive but never pushy, encourages leisurely dining — except, perhaps, on busy Saturday nights, when there are two seatings.
Our first visit was on a Thursday night. Seated in the red room, we had an immediate sensation of privacy and space because, although the room was small, there were only two tables in it. Our table for four was wider and higher than most, padded to muffle noise and perhaps to cosset an arm leaned against it in earnest conversation.
"They think of everything" was what came to mind. As if to prove it, an amuse bouche arrived, a dollop of salmon mousse cradled in a potato crisp. Lovely, but what's that beguiling underflavor? Caviar. Talk about throwaway chic! It was to be a festive evening. A bread basket was passed — French dinner rolls and slices of olive bread, multigrain and cranberry walnut bread — all except the rolls being house-baked and so good that at one point in the meal, we allowed ourselves seconds. That night the dinner rolls were deliciously warmed but on another occasion they were ice cold. So was a tiny profiterole stuffed with lobster served on a china spoon as an amuse bouche. No law against it, but these stone-cold dinner rolls and savory stuffed profiteroles would have been yummier hot.
Everything was served on pristine white china. Later, chatting with the chef (he visited every table), we learned that Jerry Reveron regards a plate as a canvas upon which to paint, using food for color and using garnishes not only to enhance flavor but also for artistic effect. Modestly displayed on a high shelf in the hall, chef Reveron's culinary trophies and medals pay tribute to the range of his repertoire — appetizers to ice carvings.
When he departed from the ordinary, Reveron did so in interesting but never weird ways. "Chef's chowder" took its cue from New England's ubiquitous clam chowder, but went blessedly light on clams in favor of an intensely flavorful medley of fresh fish, shellfish, fennel and corn.
Working with simpler ingredients, the chef came up with an equally captivating starter of house-made ravioli filled with wild mushrooms, spinach, goat cheese and toasted pine nuts in a caper-flecked red wine and tomato sauce.
By comparison, a Gréyère, artichoke and Gorgonzola tart was rather unimpressive. A dun-colored wedge of quiche, its flavors oddly muted, it would have been better piping hot with a bit of greenery on the plate.
But the understatedly listed "duck trio" was heaven on a plate. Creamy Hudson Valley foie gras delicately seared to give it an edge, dark, dense duck confit and chunky country p‰té satisfied the itch for richness, and a tangerine-and-red-onion brélé added a note of brightness. Eat beans tomorrow but spring for this thrill.
Perusing the entrée list, we zeroed in on The Woodward House Special: pork tenderloin stuffed with currants, apples, apricots, cranberries and corn bread. Sounds heavy but it was a delightfully clean, light creation.
Firm, sweet sea scallops were the essence of simplicity, swiftly gilded in the pan and bathed with truffle and chive butter sauce.
A homey special of braised lamb shank made quite an entrance, overhanging the plate and sporting a plume of fresh rosemary, like a feather in Yankee Doodle's cap. Moist and tender, the meat bespoke long, slow cooking, as did the creamy risotto served with it. Lamb shanks seem to be enjoying a surge of popularity. As a result, they're sometimes given short shrift, but Reveron treats even the humblest dish with utmost respect.
What he likes best, however, is to create extravaganzas. Lobster with pappardelle was a fabulous case in point. A whole lobster, poached and divested of its shell, arrived — sweet succulent chunks of it, tossed with pasta, fresh herbs, asparagus and a creamy lobster-enhanced Gréyère sauce. With a crunchy truffle-oil-and-crumb topping, this glorious creation set all four of us talking about a return visit.
Desserts cinched the idea. The chocolate bread pudding was exquisite, no relation to home-kitchen versions. Warm apple-cranberry crisp was also a triumph. Were the cranberries soaked in cider? In wine? Who cares, just keep it on the menu. Bananas Foster was actually a custard tart with caramelized bananas on top and a shortbread crust. Desserts are Jerry Reveron's forte. Between our first and second visit, he won another award — for a chocolate dessert in Waterbury's Eat-Your-Art-Out culinary competition. Not surprisingly, the "chocolate sampler" we sampled was to die for — the richest dark chocolate mousse I've had since heaven knows when, a decadent flourless torte, mocha mousse and chocolate truffles.
All this in the little town of Bethlehem? Don't wait for Christmas. Go now.
The Woodward House
4 The Green
Bethlehem (203/266-6902)
Dinner Monday, Thursday and Friday 6 to 9, Saturday 6 and 8:30, Sunday 5 to 9. Major credit cards.Wheelchair access. Price range: appetizers $9 to $16, entrées $19 to $30, desserts $8 to $13. |
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