Institutional decor belies inventive international fare
I have to confess that when it came time last week to review the Marriot's recently revamped Lila Weneda, I wasn't exactly bouncing off the walls. After all, a reliable source described the new international menu as merely "O.K." and the decor as, well, "institutional." Ho-hum.
Thus armed, Zosia and I set off for Lila Weneda with expectations in check and stomachs on empty the only way to deal with such matters. When we arrived late Saturday afternoon the restaurant was so dead we started to wonder whether we should be somewhere else too. Where was everyone? At the Avon convention downstairs? Indeed, it was only 5 p.m., but just one other table was occupied in a dining room the size of Warszawa Centralna. O.K, maybe it's not that big. But Lila Weneda's buffet looks as though it could queue just as many people as its ungainly neighbor across the street.
It also looks rather conventional. As in yes, institutional. As in formula varnished-woodwork, brass 'n frosted glass, and red-met-green color scheme (perfect for Christmas parties), all of which speaks hotel or chain, restaurant. Wine glasses atop every table attempt to add a "Euro" feel to what otherwise could be a Tiffany's or Olive Garden flagship eatery. The lights are bright and the tables for two a little too long for gazing into your dinner date's eyes or picking from her plate. The music, appropriate for hotel elevators and department stores, reminded Zosia of the same lightweight sap piped into McDonald's restrooms. How can anything intended to be so inoffensive be so annoying? We should have left our expectations at the szatnia.
For starters, Zosia ordered the "Norwegian smoked salmon with cream cheese and caviar on lemon rocket salad dressing" (zl. 34), and I, the "Parma, Forest, and Fiocco ham served with mozzarella and marinated melon on an herb emulsion" (zl. 32). We were set to nibble on these with a couple of glasses of Cote du Rhone '98, Pere Anselme (zl. 15 each). Before you could say na zdrowie, our amicable waiter reappeared with two little carafes. Slightly dry but not overly so, the blonde liquid was a smart, tart partner for the extravagant ensembles that were next to arrive.
Zosia's lox sat beneath a fresh herb salad and small potato and cream-cheese mountain, surrounded by artfully placed pink grapefruit sections, black caviar, and a drizzling of pesto-like sauce (the herb emulsion?). Zosia said the salmon and "lemon rocket salad dressing" were "great," but that she could have done without the grapefruit. My starter was equally impressive visually, but it included only one kind of ham, parma. Despite that, I scarfed it up. The mozzarella slices slathered with the herb "emulsion," were yummy, but the sweet marinated melon inside a tiny taco shell was too much of a contrast to the salty ham. By now, though, our happy palates were piqued for round two: the soup.
My "spicy carrot, coconut and cumin soup" (zl. 14) was as thick as baby food and so filling that I thought if I ate it all I might not have any room left for the main course. But I slurped it down anyway. Goldenrod orange, peppery, cuminy, and with a velvety texture from the coconut, it was unlike anything I had ever tasted, which is to say it was good. Really good. I went out on a limb and scored. Zosia was not as tickled with her mushroom soup (zl. 14), though, which was listed as zupa grzybowa in Polish.
"This isn't grzybowa, this is pieczarkowa," she said. Zosia explained that grzyby are forest 'shrooms and make for a far more flavorful soup than commercial mushrooms, or pieczarki, do. She also said that Lila's version was too thick, probably due to too much added flour. In the end we agreed that Lila's mushroom soup could in no way compare to Dom Polski's zupa grzybowa, which by the way is worth singing about. But that's another subject for another review.
After our soup bowls disappeared we had to wait quite a while for our entrees. Strange, since there were still very few people in the restaurant. When our meals did arrive, the plates were too hot to handle, which of course was a good thing, but oddly enough, the food sitting on those plates wasn't exactly smoking. My "grilled swordfish served with sweet sicilian tomato sauce and parmesan risotto" (zl. 36) was lukewarm at best. It was also a little dry. The risotto was good; thick and chewy from the melted parmesan, but a little too heavy after everything else I had already stuffed down my gullet. The sweet sicilian tomato sauce included bits of tomato (natch), capers, golden raisins, and black olives. Like the fish beneath it, it would have been better served hot.
On the other hand, Zosia was charmed by her "grilled tenderloin" with steak sauce, herb butter, spinach salad and baked potato (zl. 46). Slightly pink inside, the meat was tender and sumptious with a blob of melted herb butter on top. I was also curious about her steak sauce, which looked like Heinz 57, but revealed much more local origins: horseradish 'n ketchup. Her fresh spinach salad was crunchy and therefore excellent, but we agreed that the dry baked potato could have benefited from a ploop of that luxurious herb butter.
Stuffed but not about to pass on dessert, we chose our final weapons: Zosia, the "melon parfait on vanilla ice cream" (zl. 18) and I, the "szarlotka with vanilla ice cream" (zl. 16). The result was a draw. Anything containing fat 'n creamy, real vanilla bean ice cream is a winner in my book, and both of our selections were lovingly prepared and carefully presented, thus doing the job they were called upon to do: make us really happy right then. Our total bill came to zl. 276 ($67) without tip.
Overall, Lila Weneda is not bad. Unoriginal decor aside, the food is pretty darn good, but for such a slow time of day our entrees should have been served piping hot and a lot faster. Our waiter also could have asked us if we wanted a second glass of wine. Details matter.
