New Jersey Restaurant Review
Beau Rivage
Note: June 2008: Restaurant now closed. New restaurant is Beau Steak & Seafood
128 Taunton Boulevard
Medford, Burlington County, New Jersey
(856) 983-1999
By The Artful Diner
Special to New Jersey Online
6/25/2001
Chef/owner Gerard Gehin created quite a stir when he opened the doors of Beau Rivage in 1978. And many restaurants -- like fine Bordeaux -- continue to evolve and mature and improve with age. Sad to say, this glamorous Gallic eatery may not be counted among them. Distinguished Restaurants of North America kudos and the Wine Spectator's Award of Excellence not withstanding, the cuisine strikes one as anachronistic, the ostentatious silver domes and warm towels as so much smoke and mirrors. There have been momentous changes on the culinary scene in the past quarter-of-a-century and, in my opinion, Mr. Gehin has long since been left in the dust.
Nestled in the tranquil woods overlooking Lake Pine, the pastoral environs and valet parking set a most impressive tone. Ditto the interior décor. The first floor, replete with picturesque cut-stone fireplace, quietly envelops patrons in its romantic rusticity. The second-floor dining room, boasting Louis XVI elegance, is more formal in tone. There's even a wine cellar for small private parties and celebrations.
Yet precisely because of these charming touches, the discordant notes are all the more glaringly transparent. Hanging baskets, for example, are adorned with plastic flowers; although, given the placement of the baskets in the establishment's flood of natural light, real flora and fauna would thrive here, as well as add infinitely more warmth and authenticity.
While tuxedoed servers and bus people are decked out in classic black and white, the hostess, for some unknown reason, sees fit to sashay about in less than fetching pastel-colored pants suits -- a significant fashion faux pas in such otherwise sophisticated surroundings. And speaking of the service... it can be somewhat schizophrenic. On one occasion, an ingratiating young woman was both professional and personable of demeanor... but not terribly familiar with either the printed menu or the daily specials. On our second visit, the gentleman knew his stuff... but could have used a bit more polish around the edges.
The aforementioned are obviously contributory factors in the case; however, it is the quality (or lack thereof) of the French cuisine that proves to be the major bone of contention. In both preparation and presentation, the unmistakable smell of ennui hangs in the air like the malodorous bouquet of stale perfume. At what precise moment in time the kitchen finally surrendered the totality of its creative impulses is a moot point. Suffice it to say, the food simply lacks vitality. It feels -- and tastes -- bone-weary, boring. This is cooking by the numbers. Given the pricey tariffs, atmospheric embellishments and splashy service, however, you expect more than rote cuisine... Indeed, infinitely more than this establishment is apparently able to deliver.
Symptomatic of the gastronomic gaffes that you're likely to encounter is the special Belgian endive salad dressed in white truffle oil and crowned with delicate slices of duck breast ($9.50). The endive is, of course, meant to provide a refreshingly bitter counterpoint to the sumptuous fowl and soothing oil. In this case, however, it delivers a nearly lethal blast of acridity, eclipsing all in its path. In addition, the endive is coarsely chopped and piled haphazardly on a plain white plate, where its pale yellow/white leaves are sucked into the colorless void -- the bland leading the bland. The introduction of a few colorful -- and decidedly less pungent -- greens could not help but have an amelioratory effect on the overall presentation.
Like the salad noted immediately above, Mr. Gehin's appetizers never quite strike the proper culinary chord. To paraphrase John Updike, actuality appears to be the running impoverishment of possibility: The Parma ham with fresh green beans and balsamic vinaigrette ($8.00) sounds infinitely better than it tastes; the petite marmite ($5.50), beef broth with vegetables and beef gratinée, is strictly generic; and the cold poached asparagus with cherry tomato halves embellished with olive oil and the aroma of black truffles ($6.50) lacks the punch to propel it out of the realm of ordinary.
The most worthy preludes are, in my estimation, also the least gussied up and are prepared tableside for two ($6.50 per person). The first is the omnipresent Caesar salad. Hardly exhilarating but quite palatable nonetheless. The second is a leaf spinach salad tossed with sliced mushrooms and hot bacon dressing. Indeed, after suffering through several of the less than stellar items noted above, I am of the firm belief that anything prepared in the dining room is infinitely preferable to that which emerges fully assembled from the bowels of the kitchen.
But if starters strike one as slightly off-key, entrées are a distressing study in gastronomic dissonance. I seldom send items back to their point of origin, believing that it is a food critic's unfortunate lot in life to take the bad with the good and to make judgment accordingly. Having said that, however, I recently encountered several dishes so abysmal that, for the sake of my continuing good health, I considered culinary discretion the better part of peristaltic valor.
The first was a combo of ostrich, venison and quail ($26.00). Despite the fact that the participants had been drowned beneath a flood of black truffle/loganberry reduction, nothing could mask their inferior quality. Both ostrich and venison were tough, fatty and completely inedible. Only the quail would have been deemed semi-ingestible. The second entrée that left a great deal to be desired was the tuna served with red wine shallot butter ($22.00). Ordered medium-rare, it arrived woefully overcooked and utterly tasteless.
To the establishment's credit, both offenders were immediately removed from the table (and the bill) and replacements offered. Be that as it may, the truly discouraging part of this ordeal was the fact that both presentations were billed as daily specials... items that supposedly represent the the chef's unerring skill, sense of style and proportional panache... So much for restaurant fiction.
Once again, your best bets entrée-wise are those that require the least amount of creative hocus-pocus. The Châteaubriand for two ($28.00 per person), for example, is quite commendable and one of the few dishes on the menu worthy of its price tag. The sirloin steak sauced with cranberries, truffles and peppercorns ($24.50), a house specialty, is also right on target.
When it comes to matters piscatorial, stick with the Dover sole ($26.50), the filet of flounder sautéed with sun-dried tomatoes and country herbs ($16.50), or the poached sea scallops with white wine and mustard sauce ($21.50). Simplicity is the watchword.
The noble recitation of denouements is obviously designed to elicit a chorus of "oohs" and "ahs." Unfortunately, like all that has preceded them, desserts fall short of the mark. The highly-touted individual soufflés ($7.50) are merely so-so; the crème brûlée ($7.50) is insufficiently caramelized and has a strange flavor and consistency; the chocolate Chambord cake ($6.50) bears the unmistakable marks of an extended period of exile in the nether regions of the frige; and the poached pear over vanilla ice cream with raspberry sauce ($6.50) could have been whipped up at Friendly's.
If there is one item that deserves unmitigated praise, it is surely the extraordinary wine list. Care to sample a 1966 Chateau Margaux? It may be had for a heart-stopping $1200.00. But a 1990 Chateau Lafite Rothschild weighs in at a mere $750.00. On the whole, however, prices and mark-ups are quite reasonable. When a superb 1995 Domaine Drouhin Pinot Noir "Laurene" from Oregon may be snared at $70.00, a scant $15.00 - $20.00 above retail, this is a bargain, indeed. There are also a goodly number of outstanding vintages available in the $20.00 - $30.00 range.
But the award-winning wine list is simply not sufficient to compensate for the copious and conspicuous shortcomings one encounters here. You pick up the check, survey with dismay the not insignificant monetary damage, glance knowingly at your spouse/significant other, and utter those immortal words, which -- even after nearly twenty-five years -- may well comprise this establishment's well-deserved epitaph: "If only we'd gone to..."
Cuisine: Classic French
Hours: Lunch: Tues - Fri, 11:30 a.m. - 2:30 p.m.; Dinner: Tues - Sat, 5:30 p.m. - 9:30 p.m.; Sun, 4:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.; CLOSED MONDAY
Credit Cards: All major
Attire: Jackets required for gentlemen
Smoking: Smoking is permitted in the wine cellar only.
Reservations: Recommended, especially on weekends
Parking: Valet
Alcohol: License and extensive wine list
Price: Expensive
Handicapped Accessible: Yes
