From the Food Vault Dept.: In 1986, after I’d been writing for Albany’s Metroland Magazine for a couple of years, I proposed that we start a restaurant review column, with me at its helm. There being no budget for meals, I further proposed that we cadge a meal off the restaurant under examination, and promise them a good review. And make no bones about it in the column. This we did for 22 weeks, at which time a budget was created and the reviews became unannounced. But here’s my fourth-ever restaurant piece, written in 1986 following a meal with my wife, Susan, and good-natured photographer Drew Kinum. I wish I had a better record of his photos than the lousy photocopy reproduced here. Ashley’s is long gone, by the way, replaced by a succession of ever-less-impressive eateries in that hotel.
ASHLEY’S, THE RESTAURANT at the new Albany Marriott on Wolf Road, has class. That’s more than good looks and tasty food: its a style that reflects a happy confluence of personalities on both sides of the kitchen door.
One of my most-treasured dinner memories came from a visit to a five-star place downstate in which the entree was a disappointment. In spite of this, the ambiance and good fellowship prevailed. Ashley’s provided all that as well as terrific entrees, but lets start at the beginning and go through this meal.
My chief gastronomic assistant, Susan, was along to give the place what-for. She and photographer Drew sat opposite me at a long table on one of the upper levels and we unfolded the large, colorful menus to make the tough choices.
I design my dinner around the entree. Susan likes to consider each course individually. I haven’t figured out Drew’s system. Even as we pondered, we got a basket of warm bread and individual dollops of whipped butter, served on a lemon leaf. We ordered a bottle of 1980 Konstantin Frank Cabernet Sauvignon and set it to breathe.
“I’m shocked,” said Susan. “This menu actually is geared to good nutrition and low calories.” She indicated items so asterisked on the pages. I noticed, however, that this did not in the least influence her decisions.
She began with Oysters Soufflé. Served not in the high-hat egg sense, but with a fluffy accompaniment of spinach. The oysters themselves are freed of their beastly shells, poached, and served with a sauce redolent of tarragon.
My own paté was reminiscent of the recipe I used to favor back in more buttery days. It is whipped into a heavy-cream lightness and features the flavors of pistachio and Madeira. The guilt I felt at eating the generous portion led me to otter to swap for Draw’s chosen pasta, but he wouldn’t let go of it. A bimetal serving dish filled with al dente macaroni laden with cream and ginger, scallops and sun-dried tomatoes. “Sorry, fella,” he said, happily chewing.
Even as we worked on the appetizers, the waitress (or “server,” as seems to be the favored but hard-to-get-used-to sexless term) began preparing our Caeser salad.
I have to get a jump on this salad,” she explained. “it takes a while to get the garlic and anchovies to combine into a paste of the right consistency.” Added to that were a hit of Grey Poupon mustard, Worcestershire sauce, a raw egg, fresh lemon juice, pepper and grated Parmesan cheese, finished with vinegar and a light green olive oil.
Into that mixture were tossed the broken pieces of Romaine lettuce and large, buttery croutons. I promised Pam I’d search out the history of the dish. Here’s what I discovered: It was the creation of an Italian immigrant named Caesar Cardini, who opened a restaurant in Tijuana that drew many from the San Diego area. The Italian salad tradition is very different from the American let’s-smother-it-with-sweet-stuff craze, and Cardini developed his recipe to show off a lettuce that was brought to this country by Mediterranean gardeners.
Not to be left out, Drew ordered the Ashley’s salad, featuring bibb lettuce, wild mushrooms and toasted almonds served in a vinaigrette.
I like the custom of the intermezzo, the palate-cleansing sorbet presented just before the entree. Ashley’s makes its own, which this evening was peach-flavored and served in a lily-shaped container.
The kitchen has a mesquite grill for steaks and fish, and Drew’s filet mignon came off that grill accompanied by a choice of butters. The menu lists eleven of them, he sampled four: caIamata, made from Greek olives: lobster, a puree of the shellfish seasoned with carrots and onions; fresh herb, a number of sweet and sharp flavors with a brandy finish; and the cabernet, reduced from the wine and tempered with garlic and shallots.
Although I coveted Susan’s sweetbreads and lobster (it’s so easy to destroy sweetbreads, and they’re so delectible when cooked correctly, as happened here, served with puff pastry and nantua sauce finished with cream), I was delighted with my foray into Creole cooking. Blackened fish, done to a spicy turn, featuring the neglected grouper.
“It can’t be too hot,” I suggested when ordering it; I wasn’t disappointed. This is an item that must be cooked In a white-hot skillet and leaves the inside moist even as a charcoal crust is formed. Entrées were served with sides of saffron rice and crepes stuffed with carrots, parsnips and zucchini sautee; Drew got a tomato stuffed with the vegetable and sliced, roasted potatoes.
The menu also boasts Cajun shrimp and jambaiaya in its New Orleans section: other entrées include preparations of duck, veal and chicken along with the requisite steaks.
Desserts are on a separate listing and we went for broke with baked Alaska. We were turned over to Matt, the house arsonist, who made a spectacular tabteside preparation of the sweet. A snifter of Sambuca and a snifter of Gran Marnier each was heated to combustion and then combined by pouring the fiery liquid from glass to glass. When the meringue-covered ice cream was annointed with the liquor, the egg whites crackled to brown. This was served on a bed of chocolate syrup.
“We’re going to be total blimps,” said Susan. “Well, this was your idea.” said skinny Drew.
Ashley’s at the Albany Marriott, 189 Wolf Road, Colonie, NY. 458-XXXX. Full bar, catering and banquet facilities. Jackets required. Dinner 6-11 daily, reservations suggested. All major credit cards.
– Metroland Magazine, 24 April 1986
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