My first impression of the restaurant was that it suffered from an identity crisis.
The aroma of rich Indian spices wafted through the doors and filled the hotel lobby, but you walk inside and greeting you at the entrance was a vase full of… red roses??
Then you sit down on the too-low seats (which, thankfully, came with small cushions for my back) and look at the menu, and there’s nothing Indian on it!
The restaurant was very modern, Asian-ish… as though one person started off modern minimalist who then quit, then an Asian-style decorator finished the job. It was so off-putting.
It would appear that the only thing Indian about Campton Place is the chef, so just ignore the smell and the very Asian color palette.
Oh oh, and you know what? There were little rectangular cushions to keep your purse off the floor… which were covered with some kind of Asian silk fabric!
Man, was I confused, but I don’t think I was the only one.
The food was delicious, though none of them had any trace of Asian spice… or any spice, for that matter.
The asparagus soup was supposed to come with a quail egg; it was a chicken egg, or a huge-ass mutant quail. (I checked the menu on the website and it now says hen egg. Interesting. I know that the menu has been changed because at the restaurant, there was one more dessert – a citrus one. Anyway.)
The asparagus soup didn’t taste a lot of asparagus – maybe a little, if you cleansed your palate beforehand and really concentrated. Other than that, the only other way you can tell that it’s asparagus soup is the presence of two tiny little asparagus tips… UNDERCOOKED asparagus tips.
The halibut was a solid piece of halibut. It was well-done, but not special. The mussels that went along were okay, but eaten with the mushrooms and carrots, were really out of place. The pea vichyssoise tasted very faintly of mussels, which was nice, but definitely did not taste like peas, though it went okay with the fish.
The food isn’t all bad at Campton Place. THE FRIES ARE DIVINE.
THE FRIES ARE DIVINE.
I had to say it twice to make sure you didn’t miss it the first time.
THE FRIES ARE DIVINE.
If you order only one thing, make it the side of french fries. Crispy and delicious (a little too perfect to be made fresh, but I give them the benefit of the doubt that it was not pre-frozen), perfectly salted and flavored and so so satisfying on its own!
Okay, I’m done.
The vanilla panna cotta tasted so artificial, so sugary. I’m pretty sure that it was made with faux vanilla extract. The blueberry compote was nice… except aren’t compotes usually cooked? I mean, the blueberries in there tasted pretty fresh, and the compote was not warm, sooooooo… huh?
As if I wasn’t confused enough, my date (the Husband) informed me that the restaurant had one Michelin star, to which I replied:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! You gotta be f*ckin’ kidding me!
That Michelin star must’ve been awarded while under the influence, because there ain’t no WAY that ho-hum meal was delicious enough! Nor was the service anywhere up to par with other worthy restaurants!
Here are my theories as to why that lunch was so underwhelming:
- Many restaurants do dinner best.
- The head chef was out overseeing his secret Indian restaurant, leaving the kitchen to a less-experienced cook.
- Quantity over quality. As long as they draw patrons in with a relatively low-priced menu and ambience, who cares if the food isn’t stupendous?
I won’t be going back to Campton Place. You’d think at least they couldn’t screw up cocktails, right?
You would be wrong.
The pear bellini, which the bartender claimed to have invented completely unaware that anyone else had done it, didn’t taste a smidgen like pear. To me and Husband, it was Unidentifiable-Fruit-Substance mixed with mediocre white wine. Sigh.
At least the fries were good.
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