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August
Moon
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| Not-so-August Moon | There is a mote on this moon | |
| Invention and
execution are not mutually incompatible virtues, but they might as well
be. We are all familiar, I suspect, with the classic steak and potatoes
joint where words like "nouveau" or "fusion" are
forever banished from the menu, but the food, one-dimensional although
it may be, is excellently prepared. Perhaps one of these places might
even display a motto such as "We do one thing, but we’re great at
it!"
August Moon is not that kind of restaurant. "Vivika and Martin (not her husband) Olander" (as the menu informs us) deliberately set out to flout some rules and they apparently see their establishment as an outlet for their playful inspirations and creative talents. Lava lamps on tables, an extremely well priced wine list, diverse menu items that poke fun at gourmet chefs, these and other inventive touches have made this place rather unique in the Twin Cities’ dining scene. These have been August Moon’s claims to fame, but after several years of little change the novelty has worn off. Even the chefs that were the inspiration for dishes such as "Eefbay Enderlointay" no longer enjoy the popularity they once had. If the food was consistently good this wouldn’t be a problem, but eating here is a hit-and-miss affair. Let’s start with the wine list. Although the by-the-bottle selections are somewhat broad, the only stuff that can be ordered by the glass is Minnesota wine. In an uncharacteristic spirit of adventurousness B boldly ordered a rosé. I sampled this beverage—it needed a charge of CO2 to turn it into a passable wine cooler. The lack of lunch-friendly wine choices is a rather egregious failing. The impression of thoughtfulness and oenological knowledge that the brief introductory paragraph in the wine list gives is completely destroyed by the listing of exactly one each of red, white, and rosé wines that can be consumed by the glass. I, by the way, had a beer—James Page Brown Amber—from a not especially exciting but acceptable list. The same contrast was true of our food selections. You can refer to B’s review for more details of what he ordered. I went with a barbecue tofu Vietnamese salad: deep fried tofu on rice noodles, sprouts, and lettuce with grilled pineapple pieces and red and green bell peppers. A barbecue sauce, an intense sweet-soy concoction, came on the side. The tofu was nicely crisp on the outside and the vegetables and pineapple imparted both color and texture to the dish. The only real problem was the carrot shavings used as a garnish—these were dry and stale. It should be said, though, that the place doesn’t appear to need anyone’s (leave alone ours!) recommendation. By around noon all the tables were taken and there was a waiting list for the entire lunch hour. Our one-visit-review modus operandi has the obvious drawback of not permitting a good sampling of the menu choices, so readers may want to balance our mixed experience against the obvious popularity of the place. Just stay away from what B ordered. A |
As I write this I
am listening to mellow music circa 1940 over BBC radio 2. The scratchy
recording of "By a Lagoon" is crystal clear thanks to digital
technology and a high speed Internet connection. A fusion of technology
with nostalgia, as unlikely a combination as the ingredients of some of
the menu items to be found at August Moon, our lunch site for the week.
If you lived in this area in the mid 80s you’d be hard pressed not to remember the little strip just north of 394 (old highway 12) and west of 100 on Wayzata boulevard. This was the location of Rupert’s, a nightclub extraordinaire, and a coterie of restaurants for the single crowd. All that is now (mercifully) gone but August Moon lives on. Arriving a little before A, I found the place thinly populated with diners and immediately my mind went to formulating a little obituary. This process was helped along with the almost entirely black décor that suggests that the owners are still living in the eighties. There are black tablecloths; black chairs; black (bad) art on the walls; but the pièce de résistance is surely the black Lava lamp found on each table. The menu, which must have been clever when it was first conceived, is now almost laughable. It is divided into sections with titles like: "Items which defy categorization", "Recipes from our ‘Jaded Palate’ cookbook". And you get the idea. I remember eating the Murgh Aloo Matar Anand several years ago. It wasn’t very good then and surely it hasn’t aged well! But it still persists on the menu along with a handful of other items from those early days. The appetizers include: egg rolls, chilled spring rolls, water buffalo chicken wings, crystal sesame shrimp, goat cheese wontons, fried potstickers, Cal-Asian crab cakes, etc. August Moon has a "No Fuss No Risk Wine List" and obviously takes pride in this philistinism. From that "List," I chose what I thought was the least frightful offering: a glass of Alexis Bailly Country Rosé. It was terrible. The menu claims that these wines are undiscovered gems to which I say for a good reason! A wisely chose a glass of beer. For my main entrée I opted for stuffed Peking pancakes with chicken, enoki mushrooms and Chinese salsa. A fusion dish that sounds better than it tastes. The pancakes turned out to be dry tortillas, with a broiled piece of chicken cut into slices served with some salsa and nondescript greens. It was basically a bland and dry twist on chicken fajitas. My obituary musings were premature. Amazingly by noon the restaurant was filled to capacity with more people waiting for tables. August Moon suffers from promise not realized and then having outlived that early precociousness it refuses to change or go away. We could forgive all the jaded cleverness if the food was good but sadly it isn’t. This place would not feature on my favored list of lunch venues but that opinion was not shared by this crowd! Our bill was about $26.00. This was also the week when the moon shone the brightest over Minneapolis but I for one would give this particular moon a miss. B |
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