New Hope, PA Weekend, B&B and Restaurant Review

The Inn at Phillips Mill

Twenty years ago, we spent our wedding night at this charming inn located between the banks of the Delaware and the end of the Mule Barge Canal in Bucks County, PA just outside of New Hope. We’ve been back three or four times since that first trip. Each time, the Inn has remained almost exactly the same. The rooms are done in the typical East Coast B&B decor but without the twee faux authenticity that is the usual hallmark, probably because the Inn has been here since the mid 1970’s as witness the glowing review from 1979 on the wall in the gents toilet. Low ceilings, real antiques, but good firm mattresses and high count luxurious cotton sheets. We had the two room suite over the dining room where we had stayed before. We arrived around 5:00P on Friday evening while the staff was still having “family meal” and so the greeting was a little “scattered”. We were shown to our room, put down our bags, checked for an Internet connection(nonexistent but we hadn’t asked hence we weren’t expecting one) and went back into New Hope for a cocktail. New Hope on a rainy Friday afternoon in March was remarkably dead, so we crossed the bridge into Lambertville. We visited Welsh’s Wine shop, which used to have a substantial selection of French wines but now looks as if it is shrinking, with a limited and idiosyncratic catalog on the shelves. The clerk pointed us to The Boat House for cocktails. It’s tough to find as it’s located down an alleyway off of a side street in Lambertville on the Jersey side canal. Look for it. It’s a bar with an eclectic clientele and a wide selection of drinks and drinks only. The patrons are almost exactly what one would expect in Lower Bucks County: a mix of upscale, hard drinking retirees, teachers having a stress relieving afterwork cocktail, artsy New Hopers and contractors. The only food available would appear to be Hanover pretzels, but that’s okay. We had splits of Chandon for $8 each and sat at the cozy bar. This would appear to be another area institution, with real memorabilia crowded onto the walls showing off the owner’s fascination with all things nautical. And with the advent of the smoking ban, the various paintings, antique boat models, plaques, posters, silver trophies and serving pieces are beginning to emerge from beneath their cover of tar and nicotine. There is the small downstairs bar with six seats, some small tables and then a loft upstairs also with tables plus outside seating for the summer. The Boat House seems to serve as the cocktail bar for the Hanover Grill across the courtyard.

After we finished we drove back out to the Inn and unpacked. The stairs leading to the second floor are narrow and steep because there is an old rope operated wheelchair lift in the center of the stairwell. It’s an interesting feature of this low ceilinged building. As we inspected our two room suite we noticed some interesting omissions: There were no tissues, no shampoo and no hair dryer. There was also no telephone or television, but we knew that going in. The next morning we were perplexed by the problematical and bizarre hot water issue - scalding hot water at the hand sink and barely lukewarm in the shower. In the sitting room there is a small library of mystery novels of various vintages, the standard sort of thing that one finds in B&B’s. Happily there were no New Agey self improvement books.

We went downstairs for our 8 PM dinner reservation and were seated immediately at a corner table by the fireplace, which, thankfully was not going. Our Heimat Champagne (This is a BYOB and they only take personal checks or cash) was in a bucket, on the floor, unopened. As our waitress explained, they don’t generally open Champagne as most guests like to do that themselves. Having experienced the “Champagne Spillage Syndrome” at other BYOB’s, we were more than happy to open our own. . Even so, when she returned to the table to present the menu’s she knocked over one of the partially filled Champagne glasses, which we saved without losing a drop.

The bread was nicely warm, but a bit soft, studded with sesame seeds, reminiscent of an Italian semolina bread and served with almost melted, salty butter. The dining rooms are rustically attractive, with stone floors for the most part, and tables close enough to be cozy without being overcrowded. There are 5 dining areas so it is possible to have largish parties - 8 to 10 people - without imposing on other diners. Our appetizers were the foie gras special, described as being served with a maple syrup glaze and a mango croquette and the menu escargot with red wine, demi-glace and garlic. The foie ($14) was a tiny piece, seared to medium, lukewarm and presented on what appeared to be and tasted like a hush puppy. Neither of us could detect any mango but the maple syrup was plainly evident along with a dusting of confectioners sugar, which we thought was interesting though a bit odd and ultimately unfortunate.

Six escargot arrived in a ramekin submerged in sauce, with a garnish of flat leaf parsley and garlic toasts. The snails were certainly hot, but also very salty, and there was an odd bitterness in the sauce which made it nearly inedible. I followed the escargot with the endive salad, served with walnuts, blue cheese and chopped red onion. It was a traditional recipe and of more than adequate size. There’s very little to say about the salad except that it was tasty.

All of the above was accompanied by an ancient and creaky keyboardist out of a movie cast by John Waters and directed by David Lynch, doing New Age versions of “standards” making them almost but not quite unrecognizable. Her reedy, earnest vocals would have been intrusive if she had been louder. Thankfully, she was not.

We had ordered the lamb, rare to medium rare and the duck - breast and confited leg. What we got were three medium to well lamb chops and miniscule, dry, overcooked duck breast with a roasted leg. However, I’ll talk about the vegetables first. I totally understand that restaurants often find it difficult to have a different vegetable garnish for each meat course. It takes time, skilled personnel and imagination. But some small variation since 1980 would be nice. Both main course plates arrived with the exact same plate garnish - stuffed mushroom cap, julienned zucchini cooked to death, sliced(?) green beans cooked almost to mush, a single huge alien carrot slice, over salted mashed potatoes, and a leaf of flat parsley.

After two bites of the lamb, and some discussion, we agreed to send it back and request a new plate. We called over the server and she said that she understood, took the plate and went into the kitchen. I always worry about sending food back, but mostly when it’s undercooked. Ten minutes later a new plate with the lamb arrived, cooked exactly rare and with fresh garnish. I did eat the duck, but on reflection possibly should have changed it as well. The breast meat was sliced into six chunks but was gray and dry (the accompanying “jus”, served on the side didn’t help). It was also the size of a smallish pigeon breast. I think it must have been the same duck that the piece of foie gras came from, some species of mini duck. The leg, which was described as confit on the menu, most certainly was not. It was a roasted duck leg. There was not a trace of the unctuous texture and taste that one associates with confit.

Here it’s time to address another aspect of this experience. There was very little taste in any of the dishes we were served. The lamb was bland, the duck breast had no “duck” flavor and the leg tasted slightly rancid. The escargot were overpowered by the acidic sauce and the foie gras was as tasteless as the lamb. What we did taste was salt. Copious amounts of salt.

We decided that we would skip desserts and move into the lounge with the huge comfy couch and welcoming fireplace, finish our wine and drink our Armagnac. Earlier we had met a couple who were having dinner in the restaurant. They were taking a quick tour of the rooms and we showed them ours. They had finished dinner at almost the same time and we asked if they would care to join us for a drink. The conversation turned to dinner: What did you have? Did you enjoy it? Will you come back? Maybe our standards are way too high, but they had had, by their lights, a fantastic meal and couldn’t wait to come back. Their perception of dinner was 180?’s from ours.

When the bill came, it was wrong. They had overcharged us for the foie gras - $24 instead of the $14 that they had told us when the specials were recited. When we pointed it out, they gave us $10 in cash back- Which we then paid for breakfast the next morning.

Breakfast was delivered to our door at 9 AM as requested. There was an attractive basket, with plates, cups, silver, cheerful blue and white napkins, warm croissants and poppy seed muffins, butter and apricot jam, along with a silver coffee pot and a creamer. The breakfast could reasonably be said to have been the best part of the culinary experience at the Inn. The coffee was hot and pleasantly strong, the croissants flaky with a nice buttery taste and the jam was homemade. And at $4.50 each, very good value.

We went into New Hope to wander around and find lunch before we headed back into Philadelphia. We decided on Karlas on the recommendation of a friendly shopkeeper.

Karla's is a couple of doors off the main street and like many of the smaller restaurants in New Hope, is staffed by earnest, friendly servers who certainly get a good mark for trying. The restaurant/cafe is divided up into four rooms on different levels, and is decorated like an updated 70's fern bar. The menu tries to hit all the bar favorites without having any real direction.

We chose the croque monsieur, the Ceasar salad and an order of Cajun fries. They all arrived at the same time, but after a fairly long wait. The croque was on a soft brioche with a moderate amount of ham and swiss cheese and what seemed to be a housemade bechamel. There was a portion of chopped salad dressed with a red wine vinagarette served with the sandwich. Not bad but nothing spectacular. The Ceasar salad was pretty basic, with good croutons and a sprinkling of real Parmesan. The Cajun fries lived up to their name by being nicely dusted with Cajun seasoning but were very salty.

The biggest problem that Karla's seemed to have was a kitchen that was in the weeds and one too few wait staff for a busy afternoon. Not a bad place to go, if you're after a sandwich and a beer, but don't expect anything else.

And so, that was our 24 hours in New Hope - the culinary No Hope.

Go across the bridge and eat in Lambertville at No 9. Far better food.