Stonehill Tavern

Set at the St. Regis Resort, Monarch Beach, this restaurant dazzles with service, ambiance and mouthwatering creations.

Photos by Ed Olen

ometimes, on a bad day or even just because, I will put Orange County down. Its traffic, its high cost of living, its implication that you haven’t really made it until you drive a black Land Rover with tinted windows. They have all been targets. Then I go somewhere like the St. Regis Resort, Monarch Beach. Its grand, Tuscan-inspired entrance; cool, spacious lobby; the enormous picture windows scanning the Pacific Ocean, from which one can watch the sun rise, or set, as was the case for us one spring evening. As the colors changed from orange to pink, and then dark purple to charcoal gray, I asked forgiveness for all of my unkind thoughts. Just before the sky went black.

At that time, it was around seven o’clock. We were due at Stonehill Tavern, a Michael Mina-owned restaurant. In the culinary world, Mina conjures a variety of associations, all of them significant: Seablue at the Borgata in Atlantic City; Nobhill at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas; and his eponymous signature restaurant at the Westin St. Francis in San Francisco, where he is executive chef. As Bon Appétit’s Chef of the Year in 2005, as well as James Beard’s Best California Chef in 2002, Mina has not only made his mark in the kitchen, but has catapulted his gastronomical momentum into a career as a thriving restaurateur. And as such, he must staff his legacy; at Stonehill Tavern, Mina chose 30-year-old Adam Keough.

Too young? Too green? One could ask. But without so much as a hint at a hitch, Keough pulls off a seven-course dinner as if it were a

Executive Chef Adam Keough

potluck at a family reunion – in a good way. Not to imply in any way that the upscale fare at Stonehill is anything but refined, but really, the idea of a tavern set inside one of Southern California’s most luxurious resorts is remarkably refreshing, if not a bit unexpected. One walks into the restaurant to feel not overwhelmed with pageantry, but at ease, astonishingly comfortable amongst the impeccable service and fine surroundings. Tim Flowers, Stonehill Tavern’s general manager, tells us that this is the idea: To feel as if you could pair your bottle of Screaming Eagle with mac ‘n’ cheese, which is something I’d love to consider. But not tonight. Tonight, Chef Keough will prepare one of his tasting menus for us.

As per the dining protocol (ours), a cocktail begins the experience at Stonehill Tavern. With aplomb, the server announces that all juices are fresh-squeezed, seltzer is freshly carbonated and ice is hand-chipped at the bar. I order the Dark and Stormy, a cocktail made with Gosling’s Black Seal rum, ginger beer and lime. It arrives in a stemless wine glass and, as its name implies, resembles a foreboding sky one might imagine appears with some frequency on the island of Bermuda, where the rum originates. Settled in with a basket of warm bread, we’re content; “guilty” is a word I toss around and wonder if it’s what I feel for having insulted Orange County so many times. Perhaps one day I too will be able to afford a Land Rover – black, with tinted windows. But first, I must shift my karma. I admit that Orange County is, in fact, beautiful, with its black sky and even blacker Pacific Ocean.

In this setting, it’s not hard to repent.

Pam Gregory, the sommelier, drops by to pour us a glass of Chartogne Taillet Cuvée Michael Mina, the owner’s own Champagne label, to pair with the domestic caviar parfait. Round, the size of a half dollar, it’s layered with smoked salmon, organic egg, chive crème fraîche, and topped with a layer of caviar. It’s mouthwatering and an unabashed flirt. Slightly peeved when it’s gone, Gregory returns as if she knows. She fills new glasses with a Kerpen Riesling, and the Bigeye tuna trio arrives simultaneously with three preparations: the first, marinated, with pink honeydew and ginger-chili dressing; the second, a thin, disc-shaped tuna carpaccio with fingerling potato chips and kalamata olives; and the third, a tartare with pinenuts, mint and habañero-infused sesame oil. There is such diversity of flavor happening on one dish – a veritable U.N. conference on a plate – that one can’t help but wonder how this chaos can blend together without erupting into an assault on your palate. But a harmony emerges from the immaculately presented dish, a remarkable feat that Keough turns out to have mastered.

Just one of the flourishes from the staff at Stonehill Tavern is the occasional swarm service, a multi-person style of waiting tables that, depending on your outlook (or your mood), can be either extremely efficient, with the effect of making the guest feel truly waited upon; or mildly suffocating, as if you have, quite literally, been abruptly swarmed by a pack of looming strangers. Our experience, fortunately, resembled the former, and was how the next course, the Maine skate wing with white bean ravioli, golden tomato broth and lemon basil, was presented. The skate itself was delicate and appropriately flaky, but the real clincher was the broth: Marigold yellow and subtly salty, it was worthy of drinking, so unrestrainedly so that we indulged ourselves, knowing we might immediately regret it.

But nobody was watching, so that when a sampling of the whole-fried organic chicken with mac ‘n’ cheese, broccoli and onion jus arrived, we looked vaguely guilty. This was comfort food in a comfort place – a dish that spoke to the restaurant’s identity perhaps more than any other we had tried. Gregory paired this with Ambullneo Michael Mina Pinot Noir, which, at first, seemed like an odd choice, but worked remarkably well with the relatively rich chicken and savory onion jus.

Berkshire pig, glistening alongside yellow carrot purée, wild arugula and black truffles followed, along with Nebraska prime beef with braised oxtail, wild mushrooms and Pinot Noir reduction. Both standard favorites at Stonehill Tavern, they appear with some regularity on the menu, though the accompaniments change according to the seasons, and often much more frequently.

Dessert at Stonehill is as much of an event as that which preceded it. Pastry Chef Lei Shisak incorporates a playfulness into her confections, evident especially in the apple ‘n’ cider donuts with Fuji apple butter and Blis Bourbon maple ice cream – throwbacks to a simpler time – and in the chocolate pudding cake served with a peanut butter milk shake and Chantilly cream.

For the moment, at least, I am at peace with Orange County.

Stonehill Tavern is located at the St. Regis Resort, Monarch Beach, 1 Monarch Beach Resort, Dana Point, (949) 234-3318; www.michaelmina.net.

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