In the introduction to The French Laundry Cookbook, Thomas Keller states that there is no such thing as perfect food and notes that the only purpose to be served by striving for perfection can therefore be to give people pleasure.  Kara and I are often asked what our "goals" are for Still River Café, and we respond along lines similar to Keller: we strive to make people happy doing what we love to do together.  As with all objectives, ours are easier to articulate than achieve.  We think we have a pretty good handle on objectives 2 and 3, but what about 1?  How can we be assured that we are giving people pleasure?

 

What are the components of a happy restaurant experience?  Surely, a key ingredient is the appearance and feel of the restaurant itself.  In our case, we are blessed with a spectacular physical space, a 150-year old barn with a soaring ceiling and large windows overlooking gardens, stones walls, pastures and a distant pond, in which the original chestnut frame is contrasted with the clean, modern lines of the dining room itself.  Having served as a refuge for a variety of livestock over the years (including our daughter's late, beloved horse Ghostbuster) as well as a repository for farm tools, feed and hay (the hay rack and ladder to the hay loft are still visible from the dining room as is our old rope swing), there is a warmth and feel about the space that cannot be duplicated in a modern building.  Kara and I can and do sit there for hours, and many of our customers feel the same way.  

The enjoyment of eating out is also directly related to the quality of the people who work in the restaurant, and we have been extremely lucky with virtually all of the staff we have hired. 

Earlier newsletters have introduced Laurent Olivier and Kristen Krysiak who, together with Kara, create an island of calm in the midst of  a kitchen which makes everything from scratch-stocks, sauces, breads, pastas and desserts-for upwards of 60 or more people an evening.  Our wait staff is comprised primarily of students from nearby UCONN, and they personify as well as generate the energy and enthusiasm Kara and I feel about the restaurant.  A restaurant reviewer referred to Still River Café as "a sophisticated place for grown-up palates" and yet "wonderfully unpretentious;" As much as Kara, Laurent and Kristen deserve credit for the former accolade, our young servers surely deserve kudos for the latter.  

Even our dishwashers are extraordinary.  They have worked out an extremely efficient system for staying on top of the bewildering array of plates, silverware and stemware used in a meal comprised of a number of courses and numerous amuses bouches.  One of the dishwashers, James Sumner, who attended the University of Virginia and has done graduate work in literature at UCONN, has been known during quiet moments  to tutor our servers as he did with our daughter in connection with an impending philosophy exam grilling her on the nuances of the writings of Immanuel Kant.  Another time, he called to tell us he had left his copy of Rilke poetry in the kitchen. On still another occasion, after having sampled some mache which had overwintered in one of our cold frames, and following an exchange of e-mails with me about a balky headlight in his venerable old Volvo in which I took liberties with the famous line from the Dylan Thomas poem "rage, rage against the dying of the (head)light," James was inspired to write the following poem in the villanelle form used by Thomas:

Spes alit agricolum

(Hope sustains the farmer)

 

That for which this life is unrehearsed,

a purpose deep and fixed at break of day,

does not disturb the dust as though reversed.

 

At its best it does not think the worst

nor calculate the least a soul can say--

that for which this life is unrehearsed.

 

Its lip and brow are generous, not pursed.

A dark secret there comes out along the way, 

does not disturb the dust as though reversed.

 

Seldom blessed by a thing that is cursed,

settled and served by thought without dismay,

that for which this life is unrehearsed

 

is not afraid of a smile offered first.

What comes out in the wash at break of day

does not disturb the dust as though reversed.

 

More than the best of all is reimbursed,

marked by honest effort, so why not stay?

That for which this life is unrehearsed

does not disturb the dust as though reversed.

 

Of course, the centerpiece of a pleasurable meal is the food, and the fruits of the collaboration among Kara, Laurent and Kristen during the winter months has been nothing short of astonishing with new dishes that change weekly (as well as a steady supply of the seasonal favorites).  Some of the new items include a Napoli carrot and ginger soup that we served as an amuse along with a carrot parfait topped with our wintered- over baby carrots; New England Cod and Hake fish terrine; almost ethereal Blue Hill mussels served in a saffron-Dijon broth; pan- seared monkfish medallions with a monkfish and mussel bouillabaisse; yellowfin tuna maki rolls; house-cured duck prosciutto; and Brigadoon Farms (Vermont) Kobe beef "sliders."

We are also delighted to be partnering with Westford Hill Distillers in Ashford, CT who make wonderful eau de vie and a sublime 8-year apple brandy which have made their way into a number of our recipes.  In addition, we are excited to be offering Cato Corner Farm Farmstead cheese on our Artisinal Cheese Plate and will be featuring their "Despearado" cheese this month which is rind washed in fermented pear mash and Pear William eau de vie from Westford Hill Distillery.

As noted in earlier newsletters, we continue to expand the wine list as well to compliment the magic being conjured in our kitchen, and lovers of Brunello, Barolo, Burgundy, Bordeaux, Spanish wine (Rioja, Ribera del Duero, Priorat and Albarino), and fine American Chardonnay, Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah should have no difficulty finding a wine to please their palates.  

 

In the final analysis, however, our customers are the truest barometer for determining whether we are have created a pleasurable dining experience.  How do we know if they are happy?  In the first place, we ask, or, more accurately, I ask as they are leaving the restaurant and I thank them for coming.  But rather than repeat what our customers have said which runs the risk of appearing both immodest and contrived, a couple of anecdotes may provide the greatest insight into how people feel about our restaurant.  On one occasion, a couple slipped out the door before I had a chance to say goodbye, and when I poked my head out the door to see if they were still within earshot, I discovered them kissing on our deck.  Not a timid peck on the cheek, mind you, but a completely intertwined, back-bending, full-on kiss on the lips reminiscent of photos of G.I.'s returning from World War II and the kind rarely seen in this day and age except on the streets of Paris.  I closed the door as quietly and inconspicuously as I could.  More recently, a party of three comprised of an adult brother and sister and their mother, Irene, who have visited the restaurant a number of times in the past, struck up a conversation with a couple at a neighboring table.  At the conclusion of the meal, the couple asked if they could take a picture of Irene together with her children, and I watched as Irene, who is as charming as she is elegant, smiled at the camera.  After the picture was taken and as she prepared to leave the restaurant, Irene turned to me and said, "Aren't people wonderful?"   

We agree with Irene, and that's precisely why we do what we do.

 

Bob and Kara Brooks