Maybe it stems from my own insecurities, but I increasingly feel like compliments I receive are offered with qualifiers that subtly undermine the sincerity of what’s being said or phrasing that tacitly changes its meaning.
“Hey Chris, you look nice…today.” I’m not sure what to do with that. Does that mean I looked awful yesterday? Or, at best, not as nice yesterday? “Man, it looks like you might have lost some weight. Have you?” No, I actually haven’t, but now I wonder if you think I ought to.
Knowing what it feels like to be on the receiving end of these possibly backhanded comments, I am loath to tell you that I was surprised by how much I enjoyed a recent dinner at Bay Moorings in Horseshoe Bay. You see, proclaiming surprise suggests I didn’t expect to enjoy it, that maybe I had reason to think it would be middling. But in fact, this is not the case. I fully anticipated a good meal; I had browsed the menu ahead of time and found the Italian influence compelling, plus I recall a few pleasant summertime patio experiences there, although I confess it had been a few years since my last visit.
What I did not expect, however, was a level of poise and sophistication that would not have been out of place at a much higher end eatery in a trendier part of town. I did not expect tiny, delicate black pearls atop my side salad, for example, that the server explained to me were complex suspensions of balsamic vinegar bound in olive oil via some molecular witchcraft that hurts my brain to consider.
I similarly did not expect an excellent riff on a lesser known Italian classic – pesce stocco – made here with two pieces of succulent cod, cut into unreasonably generous portions, served in a delicious tomato passato, accompanied by rich Parmesan potatoes, all for the double take-inducing price of just $20.
The service – seamless, thoroughly polished and professional – was a bit of a surprise too, in part because I feel like classically trained waitstaff, the kind that anticipate your needs and have their service timing down pat, are a dying breed, but also because Bay Moorings does not try to pass itself off as fine dining.
I was accompanied for this review by The Boy, who has developed his own keen sense of what comprises a good meal experience, evaluating factors well beyond the plate. Factors like the warm fireplace at the end of the room and large windows facing out onto the rainy bay, giving the restaurant what he described as a cozy vibe. Or the movements of our server, who The Boy thought exhibited an entertaining flourish with every task, but that my older eyes interpreted to be the precise but fluid mannerisms of a seasoned industry veteran.
We kicked off our meal with a special request, often a good gauge of a restaurant’s commitment to guest service. Despite offering a principally Italian-leaning menu, Bay Moorings designates its fish and chips its signature dish. I didn’t wish to have that as a main, but did want to try it, and so requested a scaled-down version as an appetizer. The request was accommodated and what arrived was a huge fillet of deep golden, piping hot haddock with a mountain of crispy battered fries, the aforementioned side salad with those magical globes of balsamic caviar, and a ramekin of housemade, dilly tartar sauce. It was, indeed, a stellar dish of fish and chips, and would have made a suitable entrée, even at half the size of the regular meal, which typically includes two pieces of fish. It was a steal of a dish at $15.
The Boy ordered Nonna’s Meatballs, an equally generous dish featuring three racquetball-sized spheres of lean but moist and tender seasoned ground veal with pork, served in a vibrant, herbaceous tomato sauce. I think the two of us could have called it a night at that point had we chosen to finish these dishes, but instead opted to stop halfway through the appetizers and take the leftovers home for the next night’s dinner.
For his main, The Boy tucked into a weighty hill of Spaghetti Bolognese, the thick sauce revealing notes of garlic, basil, caramelized and seared beef, and what I suspect might have been Parmesan added right into the sauce rather than applied later, adding a welcome pungent tang.
My Stocco alla Mammolese, a fish stew traditionally made with salt-cured cod that has been soaked and reconstituted for several days leading up to cooking, was excellent. The two large pieces of cod were so tender and succulent, with a pale medium-rare interior, that I am hard pressed to imagine that they started out as salt-cured. Whatever the case, the dish was a winner, with its hearty tomato sauce laden with olives, onions, and herbs, and the Parmesan potatoes were creamy and dense. This calibre of thoughtful preparation for just $20 is remarkable.
I paired the dish with a glass of cheap and cheerful sauvignon blanc, mainly because there weren’t many by-the-glass options, a surprising deficit in a restaurant that clearly puts so much care and attention into the other facets of its operation.
A large slice of peanut butter and chocolate cheesecake was as good as it sounds and while superfluous to the meal, was to be expected given my 10-year-old dining companion.
Our meal was $86 before gratuity.
Bay Moorings. 6330 Bay St., Horseshoe Bay. Baymooringsrestaurant.com. 604–921–8184.
