Mamou does delicious dinner in simple surroundings
Chez Mamou, a combination French patisserie and three-meals-a-day restaurant on East Palace, is one of those good but unpretentious little eateries that is easy to overlook. We enjoyed dinner there recently. But, if we return, it will be for breakfast or lunch, the better to indulge in a chocolate croissant, a croque monsieur or the like.
We started our evening meal with two other French classics, onion soup ($7.95) and the charcuterie plate ($17.95). Both were up to standard. The onion soup was thick with gently and lengthily sautéed onions in a beefy broth and smothered in the requisite oozy Gruyere. On one of Santa Fe’s colder evenings, it was a great way to start a meal.
The charcuterie plate’s great strength was actually its cheese: an excellent selection that ran the gamut from bland brie (never my favorite) through the sharper soft French varieties, including a delice de Bourgogne, an excellent old blue, a riper and more pungent softie reminiscent of brie that I couldn’t identify, and one hard, nutty white wedge that was a welcome contrast.
Cornichons, pickled peppers and chopped Kalamata olives provided a sharp counterpoint, from which a couple of slices of chunky pâté de campagne also benefitted. Hard salami and razorthin slices of prosciutto rounded out the selection. I had only two criticisms. First, and trivially, there weren’t enough slices of Chez Mamou’s very nice, warm and fresh baguette on the plate to carry all these goodies. But more was promptly brought to the table when we asked.
More significantly, the whole selection, attractively plated and garnished though it was, had come straight out of a very cold refrigerator. The temperature detracted from what otherwise was excellent. Perhaps New Mexico suffers from some un-Continental food safety regulation that requires cold storage, but we doubt it — we’ve gotten properly roomtemperature versions of this treat elsewhere in town.
My guest’s entree, pork tenderloin ($19.95) with a just-barely-sweet Marsala reduction, was flawless. A generous roll of tenderloin, thickly sliced, was perfectly cooked and juicy. Sauteed mushrooms and gratinéed potatoes were the perfect accompaniments.
Moules marinières ($18.95) were a special the evening we dined, and my choice. Incongruously, at least to me, they were listed as being served with frites. It’s a combination I’ve subsequently seen offered elsewhere, but surely never encountered in long-ago days in Europe; maybe it’s a new fad. Not a combination that appeals to me, in any case. But the kitchen was more than happy to substitute more of that excellent house baguette instead.
I love this dish: succulent shellfish poached ever so briefly in white wine with a lashing of aromatic onion, a dash of tomato and plenty of garlic. Chez Mamou fixed it just right and I enthusiastically mopped up every bit of the aromatic jus with bread.
My only criticism in this case — that the mussels were small and less plumply luxurious than I anticipated — was likely no fault of the chef. Within the week, I had spotted fresh mussels in one of Santa Fe’s more upscale grocery stores and promptly fixed myself moules marinières at home. These mussels were from the Canadian Maritimes and were impeccably fresh. But they, too, didn’t live up to my expectations: too puny. To best enjoy this dish, I guess you have to live on a coast.
As you’d expect at a restaurant with a pastry shop attached, Chez Mamou offers quite an array of desserts. Our waiter presented a selection at the table. Eschewing chocolate for a change, we chose an apricot tart and something called a “success” — a little snowball of crushed meringue filled with hazelnut mousse (each $7.95).
The tart was classic, with a crunchy crust, a very thin layer of vanilla cream filling and a crown of plump, nicely tart apricots. True to the European standard, it was not overly sweet.
The “success” was perhaps slightly less satisfactory than its name implies. But, if you’re in the mood for a very light bit of sweetness to finish your meal, this is a good choice. The exterior was airily crunchy, as you’d expect of meringue. The inner mousse was delicately nutty and similarly airy, but soft. Nice as desserts go, but minimalist.
We dined at our usual unfashionably early hour and Chez Mamou was all but deserted so early in the evening. That didn’t faze the waitstaff, which was attentive, mindful not to rush us and very careful not to hover.
Chez Mamou suffers from some identity confusion: The wine list is good, but very pricey, especially for a patisserie with take-out business from the glass cases full of dazzling sweets. Chez Mamou is part curio shop, too, with displays of same taking up window space in the second dining room. In other words, it’s a setting that, while understated and comfortable, seems anticlimactic for a special evening and better suited to a fancy breakfast or lunch instead.