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Maine sea scallops with calamari, clams and five herb broth

Photos by Ed Olen

D

on’t get me wrong – it was a Tuesday night – but the singular valet station set up outside Charlie Palmer at South Coast Plaza’s Bloomingdale’s seemed a bit ostentatious. Charging seven dollars to park your car in a virtual sea of empty spots outside a department store might be alright for the money-as-no-object set, but for us, looking back, it was the first indication that our latest foray into the world of “upscale” Orange County dining was about to become an exercise in wonderment – but not necessarily for all the right reasons. The arrival of Charlie Palmer in Orange County was a pleasant surprise for OC-philes, particularly those who regard our sleepy hamlet behind the Orange Curtain as an underappreciated population of closet foodies who know their beluga from their sevruga and who not-so-subtly gloat at the fact that a name like Charlie Palmer passed right through smog-choked L.A. and opted to open their distinguished restaurant in the OC. At last! The recognition we deserve.

But now the question remains: Has Charlie Palmer done OC justice?

From the looks of the restaurant, which blends like a sleek, whitewashed adjunct into the rest of ultra-modern Bloomingdale’s, the stage is set for what promises to be a long-anticipated journey through true culinary creativity. Aesthetically, the restaurant is marvelously lavish, from the initial bridged entryway that peeks downward into the Next Vintage Wine Shop, to the high-vaulted ceilings and comfy white leather chairs. The lengthy bar looks like the perfect place to settle in with a well-earned martini after a hard day of shopping, even if you do happen to get caught in the crossfire of all the “Sex in the City” types eyeing each other competitively across the room.

Charlie Palmer dish

But despite the potential for chatting over what look to be big city-esque cocktails, Charlie Palmer is much more an oenophile’s type of place. A towering wine wall greets guests on their entrance, and individual computers containing the restaurant’s extensive wine list are given to each table. Knowledgeable (but somewhat stuffy) sommeliers offer suggestions and give recommendations, though not very often from the regrettably meager by-the-glass menu. I detect a hint of disdain when I express interest in trying a glass of the sparkling wine from Tasmania, and am steered towards a more “classic” (and expensive) bottle of Champagne. Service on the whole, however, was great, with the staff working in a team of front-and-back-server that left nary a detail unattended, right down to an offending double-stacked butter dish that only a trained eye would notice.

The menu is relatively simple, organized by first and main courses, with a selection of sides to go with the à la carte entrées. We began with a first course of kampachi sashimi with pickled celery salad and spicy capicola (a cured Italian salume), finished with black lava salt. It hit the nail on the head with crisp greens, a drizzle of dressing and a jolt of just-right intensity from the capicola, but other non-conventional combinations didn’t fare as well. The crisp pork belly with melon, pickled onion and aged sherry vinegar was a strange and unsatisfying conglomeration of flavors, with the melon seeming completely out of its element amongst pungent flavors and a relatively meaty meat. The sweetness of the fruit was cloying and odd, the vinegar extreme and unnecessary. The foie gras with fig compote, on the other hand, was deliciously well-matched with ripe fig quarters and an unctuous, rich texture.

Entrées follow a predictable course, ranging from lighter options such as Maine sea scallops with calamari, clams and five herb broth to heftier choices like the charcoal-grilled Black Angus filet mignon with blue cheese crust, and everything in between. Equally as predictable was the mix-and-match of proteins and the requisite far-flung accompaniments (kimchee mignonette, sake-glazed turnip) that are designed to impress with their flavor-heightening appeal. But the effect came together as something of a hoax – if it sounds like a great dish and looks like a great dish, then it must be a great dish. And with the posh atmosphere and svelte clientele, who would question if it really was? After all, an aged New York sirloin with chipotle butter and shallot confit certainly sounds classy.

But does it taste good? More than that, does it taste $35 good?

Charlie Palmer dish

For some answers, we tried the crisp Pacific sea bass with melted Maui onion and mushroom soy, and the pancetta-wrapped quail with cranberry beans and salsa verde. The enormous sea bass filet arrived floating in a puddle of deep brown broth, dotted with morel mushrooms. For such a delicate fish, the broth was overpowering and far too salty, with little else on the plate to tame the great flavor divide. The quail fared little better, suffering the same fate with over-extracted components and a tidal wave of mismatched flavors that leave little to nuance.

For dessert, we ordered the caramelized panna cotta with pesto ice cream and gianduja, a heavenly chocolate-hazelnut combination that hails from Italy. The former was another exercise in what was becoming the Battle of the Strange and Incompatible Flavors (pesto ice cream?), but the miniature gianduja-stuffed pastry puffs were delightful, especially if you forego the sticky, overly rich chocolate ice cream on the side.

A pleasant surprise was the vanilla-braised pineapple with coriander caramel and warm brown sugar cake – a satisfying deconstruction of pineapple up-side down cake.

We left Charlie Palmer thinking that it had fallen victim to a familiar symptom: With more than 10 restaurants in New York, Las Vegas, Washington D.C., Reno, Dallas, Healdsburg (in California’s wine country), and now Orange County, Charlie Palmer isn’t so much a restaurant any more as it is a brand. And somewhere along the road to expansion, it lost some of its magic.

If nothing else, Charlie Palmer is certainly a feast for the eyes.

Charlie Palmer is located inside Bloomingdale’s at South Coast Plaza, 3333 S. Bristol St., Costa Mesa, (714) 352-2525; charliepalmer.com