NVM Review

By Warren Rojas

According to the popular holiday song “A Boy’s Thanksgiving Day,” the idyllic “grandfather’s house” is where excited scamps long to go to frolic and feast on homemade puddings and fresh pumpkin pie. Giddy Virginians, however, are heading over the river (in this case, the mighty Shenandoah) and through the woods (Sky Meadows National Park) not to honor familial obligations, but to indulge in the convivial charms of L’Auberge Provençale.

The delightful country cottage is a welcoming sight after the long drive from the Northern Virginia suburbs. Inside, guests receive a warm greeting from staff wearing ties, vests and tails (servers are all very prim and extremely attentive). Patrons can choose to be seated in one of three main dining areas: A spacious “peach” room (the sponge-painted walls give off a soft orange hue) that accommodates about nine tables and features big bay windows gazing out onto the garden patio, a more somber middle dining room that holds maybe a half-dozen tables, or the soothing “aqua” dining room which features another handful of tables and a big, glowing fireplace in the winter.

Not that there’s any need to jockey for position. Considering every chair becomes the best seat in the house once the resoundingly French creations begin arriving from the kitchen.

Although advertised as a five-course prix fixe ($87 per person), most meals can easily blossom into an eight-course enterprise with the appearance of any number of tasty little extras. Doughy delights—favorites include sourdough baguettes, an herb ciabatta and a rosemary–infused country roll (very rosemary indeed)—announce just about every meal. A mouthwatering lamb puff with red pepper coulis was a thrilling lead-off one night, while an unexpected portion of sharp Gruyère accompanied by fresh apple and pear slices and a ration of provacative chestnut honey provides a pleasant mid-meal breather on another.

Virginia oysters married to pebble-sized hunks of Applewood smoked bacon are a match made in heaven. A crisp slice of foie gras gets a soft embrace from a delicate foam. An autumn salad pairs a soft poached pear with flaky baked brie, and drops the dueling textures amidst fresh greens anointed in a coarse mustard dressing (extra-black peppery). Meanwhile, huge sea scallops—at least a half-dollar size around and about two fingers high—join some equally impressive gigantic prawns in crowning a vaporous cauliflower purée.

Other dishes, while still good, seem to falter just a tad. Croquettes of crispy shredded rabbit can’t quite leap clear of a risotto overloaded with garden herbs and olives. Likewise, a substantial venison chop in a brown beurre glaze remains a little tough in the middle (even for deer meat).

Desserts, on the other hand, are as imaginative as they are meticulous. A baker’s trio of miniature standards summons a tiny Napoleon, cute éclair sticks and a mini banana split (complete with thimble-sized scoops of banana and chocolate ice cream). An ornate sponge cake bears a pyramid- shaped treat accompanied by a scoop of alluring plum ice cream (buttery texture with tender morsels of real plum) and fresh figs (most entrancing).