Spiced Pear sets a higher standard in Newport

By MERIDITH FORD
Journal Restaurant Critic

• See the menu.

NEWPORT -- The Spiced Pear, inside the newly renovated Chanler boutique hotel, raises the bar very high for fine dining in Rhode Island -- even New England.

It's dreamlike in appearance -- a rustic, open, custom-made country French kitchen is appointed with enough copper to pay a mortgage. Dining areas are separated into cozy, yet open, spaces, as if rooms in a house had been transformed. Almost every table has a luminous view of the ocean -- the Chanler rests on Newport's famed Cliff Walk.

But things aren't all show. The staff is formally trained in classic brigade-style service, where everyone works as a team in seamless fashion. No detail is overlooked: as the sun went down, director of dining Richard Renault noticed that my table was set facing the ocean -- which could no longer be seen in the darkness. The settings were promptly moved, with apologies abounding.

Gracious touches such as these transform a good dining experience into an unforgettable one, which is no surprise. Renault's experience has graced the dining rooms of tony Daniel and Le Bernadin in New York.

The food, created by talented executive chef Richard Hamilton, is an amalgamation of international fusion, fueled by Hamilton's obvious love of regional American cuisine -- especially that of the South (he's originally from Oklahoma).

In addition to a spicy Louisiana gumbo, the menu is peppered with flavorings such as bacon and duck cracklin's (bits of crunchy fried duck fat) and gets inspiration from classical French cuisine as well. Hamilton balances things with local seafood ranging from lobster to oysters, and there are Asian and island influences as well.

The French accent stands to reason, since Hamilton trained in Paris at Le Cordon Bleu and the Hotel Ritz's Ritz-Escoffier Ecole de Gastronomie. He has worked with the likes of Alain Ducasse and Jean-Georges Vongerichten, and been partners with Barbara Mandrell and Shania Twain at Magnolia's, a Nashville favorite.

Many small gifts

Culinary pedigree notwithstanding, the proof is in his pudding.

I managed to cull from a formidable list of temptations seared scallops atop a mixture of buttery lobster meat, clams, crunchy corn nuggets, sweet peas and bits of smoky-tasting, indulgent bacon. The plump scallop sits on top, surrounded by a pool of luxurious basil butter, like a little pillow of sea flavor.

And with Hamilton, there is never too much -- just enough to leave you wanting more. He also freely tempts with many small gifts: an amuse bouche of creamy four-onion soup came just before the scallops in a tiny demitasse cup, with a perfectly placed crouton to balance its sweet flavor.

Another present of lightly seared rosefish over fresh sea urchins with porcini mushrooms was downright oceanic when smeared with a buttery-flavored sauce laced with brandy.

A Louisiana gumbo, rife with sweet oysters, Dungeness crab and smoky, peppery andouille was almost too spicy, but managed well when mixed with a crisp, yet tawny, 2001 Caymus Connundrum Meritage.

Another stellar first course was a baby spinach salad spruced up with bits of tangy blue cheese and crunchy duck cracklin's wrapped like a pretty little package in a smooth smoked salmon and paired with a sharply sweet port vinaigrette.

By the time a crab cake came, free -- jumbo lump meat seemingly pan-fried but so light and fresh that I'm not sure it ever hit the pan -- I was beginning to wonder if I was busted, as a critic, of course. (I was, by the way, but I'll get to that later.)

Poached lobster

It's rare in my experience that second courses match the creative intensity and flavor of appetizers, but Hamilton's offerings are an exception to the rule. On a menu crowded with mouth-watering seafood selections, poached lobster called to me like a sea siren.

There was a reason for this: Hamilton slow-poaches the lobster until it is practically translucent, giving it a more-than-buttery, succulently sweet taste so decadent it is dangerous.

It's surrounded by what Hamilton lovingly refers to as "macaroni and cheese," which is basically like calling a Rolls Royce a Volkswagen. (The dish is a nod to chef Thomas Keller of the French Laundry in California, with whom Hamilton has cooked.) Who takes creamy orzo rice and mixes it with an elixir of lobster stock laced with fennel, shallots, smooth mascarpone cheese and truffle oil, and calls it macaroni? Hamilton does. The results are mind altering.

Another second course -- half a guinea hen roasted tender until it falls from the bone -- is served over a "hash" of delicately diced potatoes, the astringency of red and green bell peppers, red onion and -- drum roll, please -- smoky, yummy, to-die-for confit.

Discovered by dessert

By dessert, it was obvious that I had been found out. I'm usually tipped off to that when I order two desserts and wind up with six. (For the record, a telephone interview with Hamilton later confirmed that the staff had found me out, but he said this didn't happen until the entrees had been served.)

Pastry chef Laurent Vals manages to stay afloat amid Hamilton's formidable sea of pleasures, making a few waves of his own. Most notable was a dense, yet delicate, chocolate cake surrounding a smooth mousse and cherry filling. It tasted like a chocolate-covered cherry and was lots of fun peeking from under paper-thin sheets of marbled chocolate, creamy and rich.

A trio of tiny scoops of creamy chocolate, vanilla and hazelnut ice creams came to the table in Asian soup spoons atop a rectangular plate like dessert feng shui.

A modernized version of tarte tatin -- here mango rather than apple -- was individually portioned, with tiny triangles of puff pastry layered with slices of mango so sweet they seemed almost crystalline. A cold fruit soup of mango and grapefruit was refreshing, with a delightfully sweet-tart flavor.

Note: Hamilton says the restaurant will be going to prix-fixe tasting menus on Nov. 1. Most of the established menu items will be on the tasting menus as well. There will be three-, six- and eight-course menus that can be paired with wines or served without.

Hamilton will also offer a chef's table: With 24-hour notice, he will custom design a 12-course menu.

Spiced Pear, 117 Memorial Blvd., Newport, 847-2244. Casually upscale. reservations accepted. No smoking. Wheelchair Accessible. Open Wed-Sun for dinner from 5:30 to 10 p.m., Sat lunch from 11;30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. and brunch on Sun from 10:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. V, MC, AM. Free valet parking. No highchairs or booster seats.

Appetizers, soups and salads are $10 to $45 (for sevruga caviar). Entrees are $26 to $58. Desserts are $9. A 12-course custom-designed chef's table menu is $125.

The wine list is extensive and well selected with many fine French selctions. Bottles range from $20 to $1,250.

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Spiced Pear