1 of 5
2 of 5
3 of 5
4 of 5
5 of 5
Kate Stewart is among the new breed of ladies who lunch. Founder of the Blue Scarf Project, wife, and mother of two daughters - one teen and one infant - she tries to take a break once a week to grab a quick lunch while catching up with friends, usually at chains like Noodles & Co. and Chipotle.
Spending an afternoon at Neiman Marcus’ The Zodiac isn’t on her radar. “I felt so out of place walking through Neiman. I felt like an alarm was going to go off and I would be escorted out - politely, of course - for not belonging there. Conspicuous wealth always makes me very uncomfortable. I was really self-conscious going into it but our server was very friendly and welcoming, which made me feel more at home.”
We were greeted with espresso cups of fresh chicken broth (below) in a plush pastel dining room enveloped with the aroma. A vegetarian, Stewart made me a very happy omnivore by giving me her shot of clean, rich broth.
With a 35-year history at Plaza Frontenac, misconception abound about The Zodiac being a tea room stuck in another era. One where well-dressed, well-heeled housewives had the time to linger over mid-day cocktails and composed salads. That element’s alive and well; one-third of The Zodiac’s lunch-only menu consists of wine and cocktails. We were asked if we’d be having a cocktail as soon as the classic Zodiac popovers hit our plates. With time and sobriety to spare, Stewart opted for the lightly sweet White Raspberry Cosmopolitan ($11), while I went for the more tart Cranberry Pear Gimlet ($9).
Those popovers. Do they still serve those popovers? Of course they do (see left). Before the Neiman Marcus cookie brouhaha of the early Internet years, Neiman Marcus lunch rooms were famous for their complimentary popovers. The classic remains - a golden two-fisted mushroom of a pastry, bigger than a softball and lighter than a cloth napkin. They appear like magic from nimble servers who sneak them onto plates with scoops of soft, pink, strawberry compound butter. The flaky crust yields a bit before revealing a sleek, thin dough interior. Torn into bite-sized bits, the behemoth turns elegant and delectable, melting on the tongue with just a hint of the exterior's crispness. As soon as a popover disappears, another one takes its place.
Despite an older clientele, the food’s not stuck in the past any more than is the modern art-filled decor. The menu gives diners plenty of dietary information, with symbols indicating gluten-free and low-calorie options. Most items contain nutritional information. They only lacked notes on vegetarian choices. Stewart opted for Grilled Cheese BTA (bacon, tomato and avocado) without the B, a cup of Mediterranean Lentil Soup, and a side of fruit ($13.50). “The sandwich was nothing special, but the soup was good. It was a nice portion. I wish there had been a little more fruit.”
Having been lured into a heavenly chicken haze thanks to warm broth chased with vodka, I ordered the chef’s special of the day - chicken pot pie (right). Thick enough to stand a spoon, it's loaded with white meat, and peas, carrots, and corn that retain a crispness that doesn’t exist in the world of everyday pot pie mush. A large square of puff pastry was cracked open, the bottom half soaking up the stew, the top staying flaky and pert. That unmistakable earthy back note? Large black truffle shavings. Even a lady with a hearty appetite might consider splitting it with a friend, because it was too plentiful and rich, even for my rather unladylike appetite.
Not that this stopped us from ordering dessert. A quartet of miniature gelato cones -raspberry, pomegranate, apple pie and vanilla - arrived upright in an acrylic holder, and were just enough to cleanse the palate and provide a little post-pot pie pick-me-up.
Of course, we ordered the infamous chocolate chip cookie. “Who doesn't love a Neiman's cookie?” said Stewart. “After all, Internet chain mail got its start over those things.” While it lived up to its $250 recipe reputation - buttery, crisp, with lots of chocolate chips in each bite - we were a bit disappointed to be given a cookie in a to-go package instead of the fancy box with the cookie’s recipe as described on the menu. Well, as disappointed as a person with a giant chocolate chip cookie can be.
By the time we pulled ourselves from the comfort of our table and our server Buffy’s exceptional care, over two hours had passed. Not because of slow service, but because the atmosphere, food, service and company were just too pleasant to leave. Even with some minor missteps, the Zodiac experience left us relaxed and rejuvenated.
Food images by Kevin A. Roberts.
