Macao Trading Company

My subconscious was clearly trying to tell me something when I unintentionally walked by the entrance of Macao Trading Company--twice. Macao refers to a Portuguese colony that once existed in China and therefore the menu reflects both Chinese and Portuguese influences. The militancy with which the theme is reinforced, however, is more akin to Communist China-- the words "Portuguese" and "Chinese" appear around 20 times.

The basic gist of the restaurant is that you can have dishes in equal parts Portuguese to Chinese. The first part of the menu offers a fraternal twins style of options-- dishes share a common "base" (shrimp, mushrooms, clams) but come in two different "flavors" (Portuguese & Chinese)-- while the second part of the menu contains dishes strictly cordoned off by their cultural affiliations--Portuguese or Chinese "Plates" respectively. The menu reminds me almost of Grand Sichuan where they separate American Style Chinese from Authentic Sichuan Style Chinese, except it is a hell of a lot more confusing. Not only does it jump willy nilly from Portuguese to Chinese back to Portuguese again but it also provides unhelpful descriptions, such as the classification for Shrimp Portuguese Style: "with green sauce." Indeed, when my friend turned to her menu to find out what type of cheese was in her cheese-stuffed Meatballs Portuguese Style, she was gifted with the answer: "lamb balls filled with cheese".

The menu is not the only element of the restaurant that suffers from confusion. Let's go back to that hidden front entrance. It is meant to evoke exclusivity but when I walked in I found the bar practically empty, granted it was 7pm on a rainy Monday night, it seemed a bit farcical. Also farcical was the following exchange I had with the hostess:

ME: Our party is here for our dinner reservation.
HOSTESS: Great I can get you seated. You are going to be eating downstairs in the Bar Room tonight.
ME: Actually, I'd prefer to eat up here.
HOSTESS: This is the dining room. When you make a reservation you need to specify that you would like eat in the Dining Room.
ME: I've never eaten here so I wasn't aware of that policy but isn't it implicit when someone makes a dinner reservation that they want to eat in the Dining Room?
HOSTESS: You needed to make a special request.
ME: What about those 3 open booths?
HOSTESS: Booths are reserved for parties of 6.
ME: The booth behind you has 4 people, 2 of whom are infants.
HOSTESS: Yes, they have small children so they received the larger booth.

At this point I gave up. When we got downstairs to the (empty) Bar Room we were assured it would fill up. We chose a table against the wall because we thought it would be better than the museum bench style seating at the entry way--it wasn't. In fact the only thing I could relate our seating arrangement to was Alice in Wonderland. It was as though I was a giant at a tea party. The incredibly high bench was coupled with a low vintage table that reminded me of a desk that Louisa May Alcott could have used--or maybe the repetition of "Little" in my mind led me to this conclusion. Also uncomfortable was the fact that I had to sit sideways due to the excess bars connecting the legs of the table. Woe to my friend who thought she could "squeeze" her legs in only to have them get stuck, whereupon a staff intervention occurred in order to release her.

It was all getting a little comical at this point, what with the Bar Room designation, throne-style seating and maze-like menu, but a small part of me still hoped that the food would come in strong, like that little Kerri Strug, and save the day. Alas, I'm no Bela Karolyi and I will not be able to hold up Macao's food as the key to victory because, on average, it was mediocre. Some things were delicious--Bacalao Fried Rice was soft and delightful, like eating clouds, and African Chicken (don't ask, I don't know how Africa was relevant) was moist and flavorful--but the croquettes were crispy but too soupy in the middle and the octopus was well seasoned but overcooked.

I'm sad about Macao because I wanted a new, hip fusion place--I'm not being sarcastic-- but with the number of missteps at this restaurant (I did not even get into the pornographic Asian art!), I don't think it is salvageable.

Charles

Charles is a name I have always liked. I even feel a kinship towards it (had I been born a boy you would now be reading the blog of Charles Logan Billingsley), maybe that's why I feel so offended that this restaurant is so unoriginal. I realize that truly unique restaurants are few and far between but Charles manages to rip off so many recently opened "cool" restaurants that it ends up having no personality of its own.

The copycat theme starts with the lighting (Bobo) is emphasized by the back bar (Smith's) and is driven home by the prices (Waverly Inn).

The menu is interesting enough, there were quite a few items I wanted to order: Grilled Herb Stuffed Whole Branzino, Grilled Lamb Rack with caponata & pomegranate, Pan Roasted Cod Fillet with poached san marzano tomatoes & cerignola olives, were among the few but I was disappointed to see the Charles Burger, yet another reminder of the great New American menu rip off.

We ended up deciding on two appetizers (Grilled Octopus; Endive Salad with blue cheese) and two entrees (Salmon with Citrus Salsa and a special Stuffed Red Snapper). The food was good--octopus was flavorful and served in full tentacle form, salad was fine, snapper tasted moist and must have been cooked sous vide and the salmon was meaty with a nice char on the outside--but for the price ( mid teens for apps and $30+ per main course) it was not special enough.