Some, including the two under consideration today, are transplants from older, colder cities. The owners of these restaurants, like many Scottsdale residents, settled there hoping some of the city's good life would rub off on them.
I hope it does.
Benny and Debbie Chan's Vagara Bistro, an offshoot of a 7-year-old restaurant of the same name in Toronto, is a charming, warm, intimate, lovely and romantic place to dine. The food, prepared under the skilled supervision of Swiss chef Roland Oberholzer, is very good. The service is attentive, professional and disarmingly sincere. Having given you this glowing overview, I will now dish out the palatable particulars. For those of you who haven't yet discovered it, the 2-month-old Vagara Bistro is located in Hilton Village across from the Borgata shopperia on Scottsdale Road. The restaurant consists of two small, well-appointed rooms and a tiny, built-in bar. On a busy night, the accommodations can seem close. My dining accomplice, for instance, complains of having waiting customers staring at his plate. This premium on space can also blur the distinction between smoking and nonsmoking areas. If you're adamant about tobacco smoke, let the staffers know. They will do their best to separate you from it.
The atmosphere is an engaging balance of casual and elegant. A tapestry upholstered banquette contrasts nicely with Adirondack-style bamboo chairs. A roughhewn standing candelabrum is offset by swirled-glass table votive lamps. Formally framed impressionist prints hang on the wainscoted walls while jazz skitters from the sound system. One of the most welcome design aspects of the bistro is that its lighting flatters both decor and patrons alike.
The menu is pleasing. Adventurous, but not outrageous. Traditional, but not stodgy. Chef Oberholzer begins with the familiar--calf liver, poached salmon, skewered shrimp and scallops--then adds his own special touches. Though Vagara's menu choices are limited in number, they are varied enough to make decisions tough. Everything here sounds good. To make it even harder, tempting specials are also offered each day.
My dining accomplice and I begin our meal with two delicious starters. The calamari salad, a Vagara Bistro specialty, is bliss on a plate. Consisting of deep-fried squid on a bed of Boston lettuce, this dish may be ordered mild, medium or spicy hot. We go for spicy hot and don't regret it. The calamari are a crunchy, fiery delight. These squid succeed in being simultaneously crispy and tender, thanks to three days of marinating prior to their introduction to the fry vat. Accessorized with slivers of red and green bell pepper and oyster mushroom, this salad makes a wonderful shared appetizer.
Our second starter, a half-order of leek ravioli with grilled chicken, pales--both literally and figuratively--in comparison. I like the delicate ricotta-stuffed pasta pockets, but the dish's subtle flavors have a hard time competing with our bold calamari. Still, I'll tell you this much: I wouldn't be unhappy ordering it for a main course.
In typical bistro fashion, salad must be ordered a la carte. Our selections are most satisfying. A caesar consists of finely cut romaine lettuce liberally annointed with a traditional caesar sauce--neither too heavy on the raw egg nor the anchovies. I like it a lot.
Vagara's version of a spinach salad is equally successful. Composed of clean young spinach leaves, orange sections, red pepper, Bermuda onion, cherry tomato and roasted pine nuts, the toss is dressed with what tastes to me like a nice, tart vinaigrette--though the menu calls it honey-mustard dressing. No matter. Whatever it is, it works.
As for the entrees, veal Vagara, touted as one of the bistro's famed dishes, is vaguely disappointing. Yes, the veal scaloppine is tender, the Bristol Cream-artichoke sauce creamy and rich--but it just doesn't have enough oomph, enough zest, to win me over. What I surprise myself by loving is the pork tenderloin wrapped in bacon. Glazed with a port wine sauce, the pork roulade is succulent and moist, the bacon maple-sugar sweet. (Oh, Canada!) It is so good that I'm not even vaguely disconcerted that the pork is slightly pink. By now, I trust chef Oberholzer completely. Both plates are handsomely accompanied by potato croquettes, broccoli flowerets and the best red cabbage I've ever tasted. Italian parsley is the garnish of choice. Portions are neither too little nor too large, but, in the words of Goldilocks, just right.
Don't ignore dessert. Cream puff lovers will adore the chocolate-covered profiteroles, filled with vanilla ice cream and served on a plate of raspberry sauce. Another treat is the solid chocolate cups filled with creamy, champagne-flavored sabayon.
The service at Vagara's Bistro deserves special mention. As at the Valley's finest restaurants, the white apron-clad waiters here are professionals. They work as a team, they assist each other, they know how to advise. They make new customers feel as welcome as returning guests. They are solicitous, yet never overbearing.
Owners Benny and Debbie Chan work the room, helping where needed. Their presence is never oppressive. They are sincerely interested in gauging customer reaction. They watch everything.
Speaking of customers, those I observe at Vagara Bistro fit the description of the quietly chic, the modestly rich. Dress varies. "Bistro" denotes casual and, indeed, some guests come clothed as if they'd just debarked the family yacht. Others dress as if it were New Year's Eve. This range of flexibility is part of Vagara's charm.
Upscale-casual bite or fancy night out? You make the call.
Either way, this Toronto import invites celebration.
A year ago, I reviewed Marco Polo Cafe prematurely. At the time, I said I would revisit the cafe. Consider it done.
Owners Jim and Irma Valli have made some changes in a year's time. The once partially open kitchen is now enclosed by etched glass. The staff has been expanded to include a second waiter and a busperson. The menu has been refined and altered. Visually, the restaurant remains as appealing as ever. The pressed tin ceilings, black-and-white-tile floor and lace tablecloths over heavy, rough wood tables still enhance the intimate, homey urban feel of this cafe, which began in St. Louis.
Happily, the food has improved. Not everything here dazzles, but some items greatly please. For instance, the scampi tempura alla Marco Polo is a wonderful, albeit salty, appetizer. Deep-fried in what tastes like sourdough-beer batter, the prawns are stickily sweetened with honey and made hot with Asian red chile sauce. They come beautifully arranged on a bed of marinated shaved red cabbage and demand attention. In fact, our four neighbors turn in unison as the scampi is delivered to our table. I lift the plate. They applaud.
"Oh, let us see," one of the men at the table next to us cries.
"No, we don't want to see it," another jokes. "We want to eat it."
Such episodes of camaraderie are not unusual at Marco Polo. Maybe it's the cafe's size or the fact that it's a small family operation. Maybe it's that Marco Polo has no liquor license, and the bottle-in-a-bag aesthetic makes everyone feel youthful and bound together in some kind of do-it-yourself enterprise. I don't know.
Our salads are both delicious. The insalata Valli, the house salad, is a made-to-order mix of lettuce, roasted peppers and Bermuda onions in a cheesy vinaigrette. The insalata alla oriental is a tasty toss of Italian-dressed grilled pineapple, chopped tomato, celery, cashew, onion, snow pea and carrot atop a nest of crunchy fried rice noodles. It is so large, I take half of it home and eat it for lunch the next day.
Marco Polo now serves fresh Italian bread with seasoned olive oil and pungent grated cheese before the meal. This is an effective improvement over the garlic toast they were serving a year ago.
I'm least impressed with our entrees. We each order new East-meets-West pasta dishes, but each seems slightly bland, somewhat lacking. The "Pasta 2001" takes an Eastern approach and features Chinese fettuccinelike egg noodles, Chinese and oyster mushrooms and shrimp. Like a weak-signaled radio station, the flavors are faintly there and I want to tune in better. I am dying to get this pasta home and doctor it up with a few shakes of chile oil. (Which, in fact, is what I do several nights later and the flavor does improve. Eating the noodles with chopsticks also helps.)
"Pasta heaven," a tubular penne pasta dish, is more strongly flavored thanks to Calamata olives, chopped tomato and Italian parsley. It's still a lot closer to purgatory than heaven, however. It, too, tends to bland out.
We decide to stay for dessert, and we find that the cheesecake here is fabulous. My piece is more like cheesecake mousse. Creamy smooth and light, we are told this dessert is made according to an old family recipe.
I'm happy to see Marco Polo Cafe not just surviving, but improving and thriving. The restaurant is now open for lunch. Give it a try. Vagara Bistro, Hilton Village, 6137 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale, 948-9928. Hours: Lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m., Monday through Friday; Dinner, 5:30 to 10 p.m., Sunday through Thursday, 5:30 to 11 p.m., Friday and Saturday.
Marco Polo Cafe, 7027 East Camelback, Scottsdale, 970-0799. Hours: Lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., Monday through Friday; Dinner, 5:30 to 10 p.m., Monday through Saturday.
vagara bistro
The calamari salad, a Vagara Bistro specialty, is bliss on a plate.
Glazed with a port wine sauce, the pork roulade is succulent and moist, the bacon maple-sugar sweet. (Oh, Canada!) marco polo
"Oh, let us see," one of the men at the table next to us cries.
The cheesecake at Marco Polo is fabulous. Creamy smooth and light, it's made according to an old family recipe.
