I recently enjoyed an afternoon in the Sergeantsville area including lunch at the The Café in Rosemont. (Their Wednesday Global Dinners always sound wonderful to me, when I read the menus.)
The excursion started with a desire to finally visit Maresca’s butcher shop, which I’d heard and read about for years. My friend and I stopped there first, and were well served by Emil Maresca, as he sliced bacon and pancetta for us. He supplies the excellent bacon at Meil’s in Stockton, and provisions many other restaurants, too.
After that enjoyable stop, we proceeded to Rosemont and lunch at The Café. I may have been there once many years ago, for a poetry reading, but never to eat, and their menu is so appealing. We started with the two cold soups of the (hot) day. My friend had vissychoise, and I had a delicate yogurt and cucumber soup that was outstanding and refreshing.
The chicken quesadillas we ordered were good, although not as smokey as I’d expected, from the description. The smoke and heat were from chipotles, but it was minimal to my tastebuds – but then I know a lot of folks don’t like food as spicy as I do. (I don’t like things burning hot, believe me, but just “spicy.”) You see my leftovers in the photo here, which I dolloped with some excellent guacamole I’d purchased at Whole Foods. Dinner.
Because I’m always ogling the gorgeous cheesecake on their website, we also shared a slice of that day’s lemon-lime version. Darned good, especially the crust (although I don’t mind mine crustless, in the old style). The filling was luscious, but as is so often the case, I might have liked a little more tartness. Again, that’s me and my love of, shall we say, “pronounced” flavors.
What a lovely day, good company, pretty scenery, and nice food!
That’s the problem with the Rosemont’s Global Dinners, underseasoning. They do fabulous breakfasts, but when they venture into the many world cuisines featured at dinner, most of which have very bold flavors, as you say, almost everything I’ve tasted comes out rather bland. The tastes never measure up to the descriptions