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Restaurants
Blue Bottle Cafe
City:
HopewellCounty:
Mercer CountyPhone:
609.333.1710Price:
$$$$Cuisine:
AmericanKey:
Blue Bottle Cafe
* * 1/2
101 East Broad Street
Hopewell
609.333.1710
101 East Broad Street
Hopewell
609.333.1710
thebluebottlecafe.com
This BYO is a labor of love for husband and wife Rory and Aaron Philipson. It’s also a family affair. Their partner is Rory’s mother, Joyce MacKay. Both Philipsons are Culinary Institute of America grads with experience in high-profile restaurants on the Eastern Seaboard, including La Côte Basque in Manhattan, Kinkead’s in Washington and, closer to home, the Ryland Inn, Rat’s, Brothers Moon, and Piccola Italia. He’s the chef; she runs the front of the house and makes the restaurant’s excellent desserts.
All of which explains, at least in part, why this restaurant was fast out of the gate when it opened 16 months ago. Why it has remained so is due to its tightly focused, seasonal New American menu, which is tweaked every three months, and to the bold, straightforward flavors of dishes such as the Berkshire pork chop, bone in, that is as expertly grilled as it is butchered, with a delicious band of fat left on for maximum porky flavor and juiciness. The chop is cunningly paired with garlicky pan-fried spaetzle, spinach, and just the right smidgen of apricot-ginger sauce.
The restaurant takes its name from MacKay’s collection of blue glass bottles and crockery that is attractively displayed inside a wall of white stucco cubicles in the main dining room. Vibrant abstract paintings add more colors, all of which play well off the walnut-stained wood floor. I prefer the main dining space to the greenhouselike rear room, which is too cold in all but the warmest weather.
Freshness is a hallmark of the ingredients here, and the Philipsons are dedicated to buying local, including excellent coffee from Small World of Princeton. Menu items are thoughtfully tagged vegetarian or celiac-friendly when applicable.
The house salad is made interesting with grapes, hazelnuts, and a mountain of shaved manchego on top of fresh greens. Crusty pan-seared crab cake, sparked with basil crème fraîche, is another winner. A creative starter of chilled, marinated Japanese eggplant sliced thin and stuffed, roulade-style, with hummus, roasted red peppers, and zucchini is pretty, colorful, and delicious.
Like much of the fare here, the eggplant is more bold than delicate. Sometimes, bold works to advantage, as when Griggstown chicken is revved up with wild onions and shiitakes. Other times, though, more nuance would not be amiss. The potato-herb gnocchi entree, a customer favorite, is full of appealing flavors, including mushrooms, English peas, and bits of needle-thin asparagus, but it is marred by a heavy hand with truffle-scented brown butter. And those spaetzle with the pork chop, too, were drenched in oil.
Rory’s desserts can be counted on to be as ethereal or as substantive as appropriate. Whichever seasonal flavor she infuses into her Pavlova — passion fruit, say, or orange blossom — it is divine. The orange blossom meringue was paired on one visit with fresh berries and peach-cassis-lavender ice cream. Her berry financière is even
better, the dense cake enhanced by an interesting Bent Spoon ice cream flavor such as Earl Grey.
Rory’s demeanor in the dining room alternates between fretful when she’s displeased and all smiles when diners pay her compliments or when she greets one of the restaurant’s growing army of regulars. The compliments are coming often these days.
This BYO is a labor of love for husband and wife Rory and Aaron Philipson. It’s also a family affair. Their partner is Rory’s mother, Joyce MacKay. Both Philipsons are Culinary Institute of America grads with experience in high-profile restaurants on the Eastern Seaboard, including La Côte Basque in Manhattan, Kinkead’s in Washington and, closer to home, the Ryland Inn, Rat’s, Brothers Moon, and Piccola Italia. He’s the chef; she runs the front of the house and makes the restaurant’s excellent desserts.
All of which explains, at least in part, why this restaurant was fast out of the gate when it opened 16 months ago. Why it has remained so is due to its tightly focused, seasonal New American menu, which is tweaked every three months, and to the bold, straightforward flavors of dishes such as the Berkshire pork chop, bone in, that is as expertly grilled as it is butchered, with a delicious band of fat left on for maximum porky flavor and juiciness. The chop is cunningly paired with garlicky pan-fried spaetzle, spinach, and just the right smidgen of apricot-ginger sauce.
The restaurant takes its name from MacKay’s collection of blue glass bottles and crockery that is attractively displayed inside a wall of white stucco cubicles in the main dining room. Vibrant abstract paintings add more colors, all of which play well off the walnut-stained wood floor. I prefer the main dining space to the greenhouselike rear room, which is too cold in all but the warmest weather.
Freshness is a hallmark of the ingredients here, and the Philipsons are dedicated to buying local, including excellent coffee from Small World of Princeton. Menu items are thoughtfully tagged vegetarian or celiac-friendly when applicable.
The house salad is made interesting with grapes, hazelnuts, and a mountain of shaved manchego on top of fresh greens. Crusty pan-seared crab cake, sparked with basil crème fraîche, is another winner. A creative starter of chilled, marinated Japanese eggplant sliced thin and stuffed, roulade-style, with hummus, roasted red peppers, and zucchini is pretty, colorful, and delicious.
Like much of the fare here, the eggplant is more bold than delicate. Sometimes, bold works to advantage, as when Griggstown chicken is revved up with wild onions and shiitakes. Other times, though, more nuance would not be amiss. The potato-herb gnocchi entree, a customer favorite, is full of appealing flavors, including mushrooms, English peas, and bits of needle-thin asparagus, but it is marred by a heavy hand with truffle-scented brown butter. And those spaetzle with the pork chop, too, were drenched in oil.
Rory’s desserts can be counted on to be as ethereal or as substantive as appropriate. Whichever seasonal flavor she infuses into her Pavlova — passion fruit, say, or orange blossom — it is divine. The orange blossom meringue was paired on one visit with fresh berries and peach-cassis-lavender ice cream. Her berry financière is even
better, the dense cake enhanced by an interesting Bent Spoon ice cream flavor such as Earl Grey.
Rory’s demeanor in the dining room alternates between fretful when she’s displeased and all smiles when diners pay her compliments or when she greets one of the restaurant’s growing army of regulars. The compliments are coming often these days.
