Even if you don't like the TCN, if you are upset about what
Clurfield did to Market in the Middle, then at least this Thursday
you're going to LOVE TCN.
By the way, for all the posing Clurfeild does about being so
sophisticated and upscale regarding restaurants...she lives in
Howell!!!
--- In AsburyPark@yahoogroups.com, "2fine4u" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> Clurfield, sounds like a snob, who considers herself, "slumming"!
I
> satnd by my review, that "Market", is New Orleans', Decatur
> Street-EAST! So I was there, for lunch and it was quiet and
serene,
> with very soft jazz, emanating from Sirius, Radio. Everything was
> CLEAN, I was seated across from the bar, where I could survey
> everything! Too bad, the APP, picked, the evening hour, when they
are
> super busy, with no time to really sit and talk, when they are a
> qazillion customers, waiting! What did "Miss Queen for a Day",
> expect? Note: "Queen For A Day", was a popular game show, back in
the
> late 50's and mid-60's, where ordinary housewives, got a new washer
> and dryer, bedroom suite or living room. It was The Price is
> Right/Let's Make a Deal/Oprah, of its' day. Anyway, I LOVE the
Place!
>
> --- In AsburyPark@yahoogroups.com, "Hinge" <hinge98@> wrote:
> >
> > Below is the review of Market in the Middle from the Press.
> > Personally, I love Market in the Middle. It's one of the best
> things to happen in AP in ages.
> > I go there several times a week. The people who work there are
> great. I love the eclectic
> > blend of things they sell. I've never eaten at the restaraunt,
but
> i've heard nothing but
> > good things about it. If I ever decide to enter the dating world
> again, Market in the Middle
> > will be one of the first places I take a date to.
> > Now here's the BS review...
> > "It's a madhouse at the entrance to Market in the Middle. When
did
> the world start
> > congregating on Cookman Avenue in Asbury Park? There's overflow
onto
> the sidewalk,
> > where folks are bravely dining in the chill. I square my
shoulders
> and walk inside.
> >
> > We have reservations, thank goodness. Spur-of-the-moment types
are
> being told the wait
> > is two hours. There's no room at the bar and no room to gather
> around the helter-skelter
> > layout of tables and shelves. I'm relieved when we're seated,
even
> though it's at an
> > awkwardly positioned table, with racks sporting kitchenware for
sale
> inches from my head.
> > I'm afraid to move, afraid I'll topple a display, and the poor
floor
> crew can't help but bump
> > into the backs of our chairs as they try to maneuver. Do they
ever
> say "sorry" or "excuse
> > me"? I'm not sure; the noise level is too high to hear the person
> next to me, let alone a
> > server ricocheting by.
> >
> > Market in the Middle, for all its deliberate casualness, is not a
> place to relax. The odd
> > layout, with its mix of bunched-up tables and for-sale
merchandise,
> doesn't allow for a
> > sense of convivial community. If you're seated in the market
part of
> this bistro-tavern-
> > store, you may feel like an afterthought; if you're at a table
> astride the bar, you may feel
> > shoved in.
> >
> > A half hour after being seated, I'm feeling put out: We've
ordered a
> well-priced prosecco
> > from the wine list, but a different prosecco is presented. I
inspect
> it, register it as
> > something likely higher in price than I wish to spend, and ask if
> the prosecco ordered
> > could be delivered. Several minutes lapse; the desired prosecco
> arrives. But the bottle is
> > room temp; sparkling wine needs to be served chilled. There's
> another wait. Market in the
> > Middle's wine guru arrives, pushing a Portuguese bubbly. Or
perhaps,
> the guru says,
> > "Maybe you want a sweet wine?" I reconsider the wine list, order
a
> Spanish cava, and get
> > shaken off again, like a pitcher rejecting a catcher's call.
> >
> > OK, I'll cut to the chase: The wine fridge was on the fritz, so
> nothing I want is going to be
> > available at the proper temperature. The deal is we take the
> Portuguese bubbly or well,
> > we never really learn the options. Which should have been
explained
> to us from the get-
> > go.
> >
> > We go with the Portuguese sparkler. Nice, no cigar.
> >
> > Nor can I give a tout to the eclectic menu and the scattershot
> service at Market in the
> > Middle, the brainchild of veteran restaurateur Marilyn
Schlossbach.
> The menu covers the
> > global waterfront of cuisines, and the wait staff runs from end
to
> end of the hither-and-
> > yon space. No one person was in charge of our table, and it
showed:
> no water refills, no
> > wine poured, no silverware replaced, no one keeping an eye on
when
> to bring what course.
> > We'd barely tucked into appetizers when entrees were brought,
> returned to the kitchen,
> > then delivered again and, finally, awarded to us after we'd
finished
> starters. We exchanged
> > apps plates for our main courses and proceeded.
> >
> > By this time, a very hard, ergonomically cruel chair was at war
with
> my rump.
> >
> > My taste buds were at war with the very nearly duck-less "roasted
> duck over Grand Manier
> > raviolis with a fig duck confit," largely because the cloying
port
> glaze and the duck-free,
> > fig-filled pasta pouches were achingly sweet. Olives billed to be
> stuffed with asiago are
> > heavily breaded balls of chopped tasteless olives and melted
cheese,
> with a thickish,
> > tasteless mayonnaise offered as a dip. A plate of sliced
potatoes,
> cornichons and onions
> > doused with melted raclette is pure comfort food, however,
> reminiscent of the fondue-
> > style dish served in Switzerland or the Savoie. It's tasty and
simple.
> >
> > A salad given the Caesar moniker is chock-full of roasted red
> peppers, olives, sun-dried
> > tomatoes, cabbage and onions doused with a tomato-basil "Caesar"
> dressing. A Caesar,
> > it's not, but it is satisfying, if you flick to the side the
stale
> croutons.
> >
> > We work hard to flag down a server to grant us spoons for our
> bouillabaisse, and are glad
> > we prevail: A good lot of properly cooked fishes, including
shrimp,
> cod, salmon and
> > mussels, mingle with nuggets of sausage in a shellfish-scented
broth
> that swarms around
> > a bed of risotto. The toasted slices of baguette are burned on
the
> bottom, but who cares
> > when lovely fish meets lovely accents? Meanwhile, chicken filmed
> with a meek basil puree
> > and served over a bowl of spinach-garlic tortelloni washed with
> arugula pesto falters: The
> > two major elements of the dish are overcooked, rendering the
chicken
> dry and the pasta
> > limp.
> >
> > Good-quality wild salmon topped with a rash of olives, tomatoes
and
> garlic deserves
> > better: The accents are not uniformly chopped, so bursts of
olive or
> tomato or garlic
> > drown out the admirably gamy taste of the lukewarm fish (which
> suffered from that re-
> > delivery issue). Dried-out couscous is the so-so side show.
> >
> > Another dish with great potential was ruined by a technical
lapse in
> the kitchen. Who
> > dared to spray tinny-tasting, air-filled, frothy topping on the
> dynamite rice pudding? If
> > that's done to you, scrape it off and enjoy the flecks of coconut
> and ginger energizing the
> > creamy-textured pudding. Skip the goofy chocolate-covered, ice
> cream-filled "bamba"
> > balls in favor of a satisfying cappuccino creme brulee sporting a
> burnt-sugar crackling
> > crust.
> >
> > Market in the Middle may be suffering from success: Hey, if all
> these people are trying to
> > get in, it must be good, right? But its flaws, from uncomfortable
> accommodations to
> > careless service to inconsistent cooking, are too many for
serious
> diners to ignore. It's a
> > scene and, as we know, scenes without substance can go quiet
quickly."
> >
>
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