I grew up in
Hamden, and it wasn’t exactly restaurant
paradise. It should have been, because the town
was fairly prosperous. A great many Yale
professors located there, as did my own father,
a neurobiologist. Fortunately, Mom was a great
cook, and Dad and I weren’t half bad, either.
Hamden’s best restaurant in the 1970s was
probably the Sanford Barn, which was located in
a handsome mill now wasted on other commercial
enterprises. I took my pretty first date to a
Chinese restaurant in Hamden Plaza called Home
Village (which recently became China Lantern).
Afterward, I took her to see The Great Gatsby, a
terrible move because no gawky high school kid
could measure up to Robert Redford in his prime.
Making matters worse, Susan was a year old for
her grade due to the setback of living in Mexico
for a couple of years, while I was a year young
for my grade due to living in England where
first grade started at age five. I subsequently
learned to take girls to horror movies, finding
they usually preferred me to the monster or
maniac du jour.
More recently, the Hamden
restaurant scene has improved considerably with
Sonobana (formerly Hama), a top-flight Japanese
restaurant, Colonial Tymes (formerly Colonial
House), Ristorante Luce (formerly Raffaello’s),
and the Playwright Pub (formerly Country Club),
which in my opinion serves better fare than its
New Haven sibling or the original Stamford
location. A handful of other ethnic
eateries—Mexican, Colombian, Jamaican, Thai,
Vietnamese, Korean—have filled in the gaps.
Despite such improvements, most Hamdenites
quickly laid claim to Taste as the best
restaurant in town, disregarding the fact that
it’s situated on the east side of Whitney
Avenue, which on that stretch is technically
North Haven.
Given this
less than stellar history, it was with some
skepticism almost two years ago that I greeted
the news that a terrific upstart had taken up
residence in the little row of shops diagonally
across from the Hamden Town Hall. Restaurants
had come and gone in that location, and none of
them had been especially distinguished. But the
rumors proved true. Despite a name that sounded
Disney-esque or like an Irish bar, Mickey’s was
putting out food that, in my opinion, eclipsed
all local competition and would have ranked
among the top four or five eateries in New
Haven, which of course has an embarrassment of
culinary riches.
It turned out
I had already partaken of Mickey’s food without
realizing it. Previously, chef-owner Mickey
Josephs owned the restaurant Rosemary & Sage in
Old Saybrook, at which I once stopped and
enjoyed a terrific meal. But Rosemary & Sage
didn’t last much past my visit, because a young
woman (the driver’s gender is irrelevant, of
course) ran her car into the restaurant after
hours at such a rate of speed that it passed
completely through the restaurant and out the
back. I can only imagine poor Mickey surveying
the exit wound the next morning. Miraculously,
the woman wasn’t seriously injured, but the car
and the restaurant (which eventually reopened
under new ownership as Nancy’s Rosemary & Sage)
fared considerably less well.
Mickey is
blessed with the kind of buoyant personality
that could find the silver lining in a funnel
cloud. His staff love him, and have told me that
nothing is more entertaining than listening to
him cracking jokes while cooking. I’m a big
believer that management sets the tone of a
restaurant through its own behavior and
personality. Mickey’s staff is courteous,
knowledgeable, professional, quick to pitch in
and help each other and, most of all, happy. If
you visit the restaurant as often as I do, you
wind up knowing most of the staff on a
first-name basis: Erin, Liz, Morgan, her kid
brother Ryan, Claudia, and so on. The interior
is modern but warm. Live music is frequently
available on Fridays and Saturdays. Hamden has
enjoyed neighborhood restaurants before, but
none where one had to sacrifice so little in
quality for conviviality.
Forced to
characterize the cuisine, I would call it
Contemporary American/Mediterranean. I’m not one
to award the Mediterranean label easily,
certainly not to every Italian-American
restaurant with delusions of sophistication. I
reserve the label Mediterranean for restaurants
that offer dishes from multiple Mediterranean
countries. On Mickey’s seasonal menus, one will
find the expected nod to Italy that seems
obligatory in this state, but one may also find
a Greek salad, a Spanish paella, a
Moroccan-spiced fish or an Israeli appetizer.
The last two
categories reveal Mickey’s roots, for Mickey,
like his father, is Israeli, but his mother is
Moroccan. And for those who have a greater
passion for and curiosity about those cuisines
than can be satisfied by a stray dish here or
there, Mickey offers Israeli dinners ($35 per
person) on the third Thursday of every month.
Reservations must be made no later than Tuesday.
These are not restaurant-styled dinners but real
home-cooked family meals. Don’t be surprised if
you wind up with enough leftovers for a couple
of more meals, and don’t be surprised if a
Moroccan dish or two makes it into the lineup.
After all, mother knows best.
Mickey’s
features a terrific international lineup of
wines ($22-$575), including 14 half-bottles and
17 wines by the glass ($5.50-$8). Unlike most
fine restaurants west of the Connecticut river,
Mickey’s doesn’t gouge its customers. Normally,
when seeking a red, I economize with the Mad
Dogs & Englishmen ($24), a Wine Spectator and
Wine Enthusiast “best buy” from the
up-and-coming wine region of Jumilla. I maintain
the wines of Spain provide better bang for the
buck than those of just about any other country.
But for review
purposes, I couldn’t resist trying the Israeli
offerings, especially since I had been
pleasantly surprised by Israeli wines before. So
we began with a smooth, oaky, 2000 Yarden
“Katzrin” Chardonnay, Golan Heights ($44) and
graduated to a silky 2000 Yarden Merlot, Golan
Heights ($44) blended with a little Cabernet
Sauvignon, both of which were certified Kosher
and Kosher for Passover. Gone are the days when
the Kosher wine apt to be served at bar and bat
mitzvahs was American-made Manischewitz sweet
concord wine, which a Jewish friend unfondly
remembers as tasting like cough syrup.
Of course,
Rabbi Avraham D. Oyerbach could certify the
wine, but it was my job to certify the food. I,
too, have very high standards. Complicating the
task slightly was one dining companion, who was
abstaining from red meat, sweets and alcohol,
and wouldn’t re-Lent. Well, each to his own. I
applaud anyone with discipline because God knows
I haven’t any.
We began by
tasting all four soups (see what I mean?), two
of which were regular menu mainstays and two of
which were specials. But all of them turned out
to be special. Mickey’s pasta e fagiole ($6),
and I’m not normally a big fan, was quite nice,
featuring kidney as well as white beans,
ditalini pasta, a neutral meat stock and that
pleasurable texture that comes from puréed or
cooked-down beans. The spinach soup ($7) was a
riot of flavor, with garlic-infused spinach in a
tomato broth (plus an option to have it
Portuguese-style with a poached egg that one can
break, releasing the yolk into the broth).
The specials
were also big hits. New England clam chowder
($7) almost owed more to the tiny state of Rhode
Island than the ever-so-much-larger state of
Connecticut, given that it was clearer and
cleaner than most. Mickey doesn’t like to
thicken his chowder with a roux or mashed
potato, just with disintegrating potato. The
lusty seafood broth was laden with clam, highly
flavored with bacon and absolutely delicious.
Nary a drop lingered in our cups. Still, the
winner, if this were a competition, would have
been the rich, creamy, perfectly seasoned,
Jerusalem artichoke soup ($7) from which wafted
the heavenly scents of Reggiano Parmigiano and
truffle.
Although
Mickey’s doesn’t have a display, its raw bar
offerings are quite good. We couldn’t resist
freshly shucked littleneck clams ($1.50 apiece),
Connecticut bluepoint oysters ($2.50 apiece) or
shrimp cocktail ($2.95 apiece). Accompanied by a
cocktail sauce with just the right horseradish
bite, the shrimp were plump and snappily fresh,
the dainty littlenecks delicious, and as for the
bluepoints, is there a better oyster anywhere?
It was a
logical segue from raw bar items to cooked
seafood starters. Clams casino ($9), with finely
chopped bell pepper, a thick square of bacon and
a delightful sauce, were advertised as “simply
the best around,” and the statement wasn’t mere
puffery. A jumbo lump crab and salmon cake ($10)
had the flavor and complexity, compared to
simple mild-mannered crabmeat, to stand up to a
zesty black-bean-and-cilantro sauce.
(Periodically, Mickey’s offers great regular
crab cakes and a lovely crabmeat-and-mango
salad.) Finally, Prince Edward Island mussels
($10) were “kicked up a notch” with chorizo,
long Italian hot peppers, black beans, tomato,
cilantro, white wine, garlic and the best, most
garlicky, grilled ciabatta you’ll ever
encounter. I wanted to beg for more.
But I had to
practice some Aristotelian moderation (just a
little) if I was going to survive the excesses
of this review. Filled with focaccia bread
crumbs, onion, capers, pine nuts, raisins and
Reggiano Parmigiano, a stuffed artichoke heart
($9) was so meaty we wondered how big the
original artichoke must have been? Mickey’s beef
carpaccio ($11) featured bright purple-red
petals of thinly sliced raw filet mignon
outfitted with delicate fresh baby arugula and
slices of Reggiano Parmigiano and dressed with a
lovely truffle vinaigrette.
Mickey’s
offers several pastas, some available in
half-portions, and we relished our orecchiette
baresi ($14/$19), the ear-shaped pasta coming
with Italian hot sausage, broccoli rabe, hot
pepper flakes, white wine and garlic. We
declined an offer of grated cheese, which I am
only likely to apply to a pasta in need of
rescue. Risottos can be tricky, but Mickey’s has
a great touch with them. I’m especially fond of
an occasional special in which the richness of a
Fontina and wild mushroom risotto ($20) is
balanced by the acidity of wild berries.
Mickey’s
always offers fresh salads ($6-$10) in appealing
combinations, any of which can be turned into a
meal with the addition of grilled or blackened
chicken ($7), shrimp ($9), salmon ($10) or New
York strip steak ($10). But that’s not my style.
I’m inordinately fond of the Boston blues ($8
for Boston lettuce, grapes, crisp bacon and red
onion in a bleu cheese dressing) and the Tuscan
panzanella ($10 for Mozzarella, tomato,
cucumber, pepper, red onion, kalamata olives,
capers and fresh basil tossed with pieces of
focaccia in a white balsamic vinaigrette), but
it was time to try something new. Both the baby
spinach ($8 for spinach leaves, smoked bacon,
orange segments, goat cheese polenta croutons
and almonds in a raspberry-Dijon vinaigrette)
and the Morgan’s salad ($8 for baby arugula,
Belgian endive, Granny Smith apple, candied
walnut and Gorgonzola in a balsamic-honey
vinaigrette) rewarded our willingness to
experiment.
Ordinary
eaters would have thrown in the towel long
before the entrées, but we were trained
professionals. Our legal team requires us to
warn readers not attempt such stunts at home
without proper supervision and a medical team
standing by. Salmon Marrakesh ($19) featured a
seven-spice-rubbed filet, toasted Israeli
couscous, an eggplant tapénade and a refreshing
Mediterranean salad of chopped tomato, cucumber,
multi-color bell peppers, red onion, parsley,
extra virgin olive oil and lemon. Barbecued
braised beef short rib ($25) was tender as all
get-out and escorted by a creamy Parmesan
polenta and young asparagus.
As good as
were these two regular menu items, it was the
specials that really dazzled us. A simple
unadorned grilled hanger steak ($24) was served
with terrific truffle fries and sautéed spinach,
and the steak couldn’t have been more flavorful
or cooked more perfectly. Our favorite savory
dish of the whole evening, however, was
magnificent whole Idaho rainbow trout ($23),
which was carefully deboned and skinned on one
side in the kitchen, filled with a jumbo lump
crabmeat stuffing and dressed with a beurre
noisette. The fish came with a pile of perfect
mashed potato and sautéed spinach.
Reveling in
our excesses, we tried all six desserts on offer
that evening. Although no cheesecake lover, I
was able to enjoy a rum-raisin cheesecake ($8)
that was lighter and drier than most, like a
ricotta pie. Jasmine tea panna cotta ($8) wasn’t
the lightest I ever had, but sported a creamy
texture none of us could resist and came with
chewy baklava.
The remaining
four desserts were simply superlative. An
espresso tiramisù ($8) awakened taste buds that
had become inured to this ubiquitous standard.
An apple tart ($8) featured a light pastry
garnished with cinnamon gelato. Coconut crème
brûlée ($8) came with pineapple carpaccio and
coconut gelato. But I urge everyone to try the
Grand Marnier molten chocolate cake ($8) with
whichever gelato tickles his fancy. I have long
argued that, of all the fruit flavors that go
well with chocolate, orange is the clear winner.
Here’s proof.
Not only is
Mickey’s a great place to pick up a meal, but it
also turns out to be a terrific party spot. The
restaurant is expanding its back room to
accommodate private parties of up to sixty-five
people any day of the week. On Sundays, when
Mickey’s is normally closed, the entire
restaurant can be rented for larger parties.
Mickey’s fills
a void in the Hamden dining scene, and would
rank among the top restaurants in any town in
Connecticut. Beyond its great food, however, it
manages the right combination of ambiance and
service to become a favorite neighborhood
restaurant. It happens to be mine.