Ron W.
Yelp
Do not duck the Mallard. I ate there a few days ago and I'm still quacking like quazy over the experience.
Mallard Cottage is the poster child for quaint and charming. It is housed in a house built in the early 1800's instead of something built 6 months ago and distressed by distressed teenagers off their Adderall to look like it was built in the 1800's.
There is a beautiful view of a huge wood pile for the smoker to give it that woodsy look and there is another vista of the bay where fresh fish arrives every day to keep your hunger at bay.
The decor is warm and warmer. There is even a bottle cork board where you can tack up your hand written review, Yelp,1820's style.
A soothing jazz loop lets you cool your jets while your Ice Shrimp's on ice.
The Staff: It was never so pleasant to be asked to wait up to an hour for a chance at a spot at the 7 seat bar set aside for walk-ins. Maybe it helped that I responded with puppy eyes and sad shoulders which helped snag me a carved wooden John Deere Tractor seat over looking the open kitchen which was as busy as a termite hill in a flash flood.
I handed the reins to my server, Brother Brandon, who curated my meal, paired the cocktails and wine to match and threw in some local history along with what else to eat in town and where and why.
The entire staff treated me like I was an investor and buckin' for partner.
Who goes there? Anyone who's smart and lucky.
The Bar: Brother Brandon was in mix for best Mixologist around and was definitely not mixed up about what to mix with what.
The Bourbon Joe with Maker's, Maple Syrup, bolt upright Coffee and Black Walnut Bitters was a soft and mellow fellow that went down like liquid velvet.
The Fugi Fashioned with Suntory Toki Whiskey, Apple Syrup and more Black Walnut Bitters could have powered an exotic Italian whip or empowered a Me Too-ette.
The Food: No need to fly South when Mallard is dishing up what they do.
Whoa, an Amuse Bouche stopped in front of me. The best Sesame dusted Potato Chips ever...topped with a Baby Ice Shrimp. Blink and it was gone including the strangers sitting next to me. (Moral: keep your eye on the Shrimp and don't blink.)
House baked Bread with hand churned Butter? No need to utter anutter muttered woid besides yum!
Kolache...Czech please? This was a savory donuty concept and not something your Bosnian Tinder hook-up yells on meeting you. Consider this a Pepporoni Calzone doing the wild thang with a Bao and havin' a love child... voilache, you get a Kolache.
The Salt Cod Tartare was truly perfect. A Ceviche to showcase the fish was served with a pile of those evil Potato Chips. And I am a total Chip Ho. You too? Makes you a chippie. For me these Chips were a religious experience. I could have eaten hundreds of them in my room by myself. Does that make me a Chip Monk?
The half of a whole Savoy Cabbage was raised to be braised. It was charred to butter softness and then dusted with a snow flurry of Parmesan Cheese. This was an award winning supporting role for the
Special Halibut Collar which was breaded and flash fried.
The Halibut Collar is as rare a dish as a cogent Donald policy. (That's Donald Duck, not Trump, although it's essentially the same.) The Collar was as big as a Budweiser Clydesdale harness yoke. There was enough succulent meat to feed and immobilize the 7th Cavalry. The huge wreath of fresh fish was topped with Fried Shallots and snipped Chives and served with house made creamy Aioli. No Hellman's Mayo in the Vitamix here.
This dish (only two available as they part out the Halibuts for filets) was a mutant Fish and Chips platter. It was big enough to star in a Japanese SyFy flick.
Note: Monday night, the special is a Lobster Boil while the critters are close by and in season. But every night there will be something wildly good and unique.
Dessert alert. Just in time for me as I was getting filled up on those damn Potato Chips. The one dessert option on offer certainly ginned up the party. Mini squares and scoops of Fudge, Madeleinettes, a quenelle of Buttermilk Sorbet floating in Raspberry Coulis, an Olive Oil Cake cube and a Profiterole to hold between thumb and forefinger. The Pastry at The French Laundry could learn a thing or two in this kitchen.
Finally, an Amuse Bye Bye. A mini-Bread Pudding square with Pastry Cream star tip piped on top like a professional shampoo.
My advise: Waddle into the Mallard like the Stud Duck (Duckette) you are. You'll duck walk out too full to fly and Daffy happy.