A New England Fall at The Cape Cod Room

We in South Florida have a romantic and wistful appreciation for the “fall” and “winter.”  Or at least we appreciate our imagined version of how those seasons are traditionally experienced up north.  This idealized image of the fall, with its foods and traditions, dances in our minds as soon as the temperature hits 78 degrees outside.

I myself partake of this seasonal fantasy.  I indulge in cups of warm apple cider that break the “chill” of 73 degrees.  Every year, in the weeks before Thanksgiving, I pore over old cookbooks, imagining all of the oyster stuffing, chowder and pie I will prepare.

Factor in my many childhood summers spent at a cottage in the Berkshire Mountains of Massachusetts and you have a full-on, cinematic, seasonal delusion.

From The Ford Treasury of Favorite Recipes from Favorite Eating Places, published in 1950

Here to fulfill all of my romanticism about the foods of the New England fall is The Cape Cod Room.  The folks there invited me to try a dinner on the house before the restaurant opened (which it did on Nov. 4^th).   I only had to read “The Cape Cod Room,” “New England seafood etc. etc.,” and “Chef Ken Lyon” to know this was a place worth checking out.  Chef and restaurateur Ken Lyon is also responsible for the delicious food behind Lyon + Lyon catering and Fratelli Lyon.

Out of self-respect and respect for you, my readers, I will tell you straight: there is nothing local about this place except the location and perhaps, the restaurateur.  Ken Lyon, after living in South Florida for almost two decades, is as close to a native as we get around here.  In fact, even the conch on the menu will be flown in from Nantucket, because apparently it’s much tastier and more plentiful than the conch from around the Bahamas, according to Lyon.

All of the seafood, however, is sourced fresh and “directly from fisherman [sic] and fishmongers throughout Massachusetts and Maine,” according to the menu.  The first Nantucket bay scallops arrived November 4, just three days after the season began up north.

The only other “local” aspect of The Cape Cod room is that is satisfies this South Floridian’s yen for a real autumn, for the childhood flavors of the Berkshires and for a romantic vision of the foods that we “should” be eating in November.

Roasted beet salad with chicory, Maytag blue cheese, green beans, white chicory and dried cranberries. The green beans were perfectly crunchy. A lovely starter.

A dense and meaty jumbo lump crab cake, served in mustard sauce.

The restaurant is in an out-of-the-way location on the Beach, near the Fontainebleau (I had to double back to find it right after a bend on Collins), but it’s a unique one.  It’s in the Bath Club, which opened in the 1920’s.  The loggia, hallways and courtyard surrounding the restaurant reflect vintage, members-only Miami.

The restaurant itself is simple, modern.  The service is solicitous but not stuffy.

I loved the rich, double-cream Cape Cod quahog chowder ($12), the broth-less linguica and kale side ($6) and the Indian pudding dessert ($8).  If you include the bread that was served (corn bread and sourdough, which perfectly accompanied my chowder) and a glass of wine ($10), that’s a meal for me if I’m trying eat well on a budget.  With tax and tip, that comes out to more than $40.

The Cape Cod quahog chowder (double-cream, smoked bacon, potatoes, chopped quahog clams, and what tasted like a note of sherry) fulfilled my expectations. It was  rich and aromatic.

Prices are steep. This is good seafood and it’s being flown across the country.  However, the more budget-minded could sample appetizers, soups and salads and be satisfied.  It’s hard to imagine people trekking up here to try The Cape Cod Room in this economic climate, especially if they are going to dine the way I suggest on appetizers and sides, but I would return again. (The lobster pot pie is intriguing ($44)). Also, the name “Lyon” is good for something around here.  I know there are other foodies in MIA who will travel for something interesting and delicious, and this definitely is, in a retro kind of way.  Combined with the historic location, a night at The Cape Cod Room feels like an evening somewhere else–in old Miami or the New England of your youth….you pick.

Bay scallops, pan caramelized, and served with roasted pumpkin and crispy sage.

Since I don’t even pretend to much about wine (that’s Chuck’s area), I’ll show you the list and I will let you know that a wine-savvy friend who accompanied me found the preview list satisfying and endearing. Yes, endearing.

Indian pudding was a perfect finish.