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RESTAURANT 2Restaurant 2 is the most coveted reservation onboard. The tiny room was booked every night of my cruise. (I know guests who gave up Seabourn's complimentary evening concert at Ephesus just to score a table.) I wouldn't give up Ephesus for any meal, but I'm glad I dined here. The look, with black leather chairs, red banquettes and purple pillows, was smashing. Sexy and romantic. The seven-course tasting menu changes for every cruise. My menu was clever, creative and cutting-edge, reflecting the latest trends (including froths and foams of molecular gastronomy). I loved the opener, "caviar in the cloud, foggy potatoes," which was about ethereal mashed potatoes (lots of cream), crabmeat and caviar. A non-traditional trio of sushi soon followed; seared flank steak with sesame mayonnaise; barbecued salmon with jalapeno; duck confit with roasted pepper relish. It was good (particularly the duck confit), but the least engrossing course. The next was the best. A "cappuccino" soup of porcini mushrooms and chestnuts (reduced to an intense essence) was brilliantly matched by honey-spiced squab and fig empanada. I didn't want this course to end. But then came beef tenderloin, paired with lobster, in a new age take on surf-and-turf. Three dessert courses (tasting-size) included apricot beignets with citrus compote, and a "nightcap," a boozy blend of vanilla ice cream, Amaretto, Grand Marnier, Kahlua and who knows what other liqueur, crowned with foam. Good thing I wasn't driving. I drank it all. THE COLONNADEThe Colonnade's breakfasts were my reason to get up in the morning. The ship's casual restaurant features breakfast and lunchtime buffets, and internationally themed sit-down dinners. But this eatery is far fancier than the typical Lido-style buffet restaurant. The room, with indoor and outdoor seating, looks more like a smart city restaurant than a cruise ship café. Tables vary in heights and sizes. Tied-back drapes, soft neutral tones and breathtaking vistas add to the modern elegance. And rather than one or two long rows of buffet items, displays are positioned around the room, avoiding a cafeteria appearance. Each morning the restaurant manager greeted passengers with a genuinely cheery "good morning". The name of a daily, cooked-to-order special was scribbled in chalk on a blackboard menu. One day the special was granola-crusted French toast. It may be the best I've tasted. (Do not take this lightly; I've tasted a lot.) Thick slices of egg bread were soaked in egg custard, dipped sparingly in granola and softly sautéed until golden-brown-crunchy outside and custardy inside. It tasted improbably light, like it could float off the plate and out to sea. click on pictures below for larger images:
Another day, the special was waffles, but they were thin and limp. The following morning, a Spanish omelet special (more like a frittata) scored far better. Breakfast pastries were nearly uniformly excellent; only bran muffins were dry and heavy. And I'm not convinced I loved the butter the pastry chef used; the flavor and texture were evident in baked goods, but not the aroma. Still, almond croissants shattered into buttery bits. Brioche had French-bakery-perfect top knots and glossy egg washes. And darn those jelly-filled doughnuts. They tasted made-from-scratch with a pleasingly yeasty flavor. I had to have two each day just to affirm my conclusion. Servers were everywhere, offering to fetch food, carry trays and pour coffee. If a guest was indecisive about what to eat or order, servers made special suggestions. Cooks stood guard over buffets, ensuring every platter stayed pristine. Fresh fruit was always ripe, even at the end of the cruise. (Most cruise provisions are brought onboard at voyage onset.) Chafing dishes held the usual suspects, including nicely scrambled eggs and assorted bacons, and were refreshed often. Those serving vessels, however, were used sparingly. Most food was presented on lovely platters. Lunch was standout. One sunny afternoon in the Greek Isles, the menu captured the essence of our locale. (I've never understood why ships do Mexican buffets on the Riviera . Or in China , for that matter.) Sharp feta punctuated the ripe tomatoes and crunchy peppers of a Greek salad. Sundried tomatoes (yellow, red, orange) soaked up all the fruity flavors of olive oil-herb marinade. click on pictures below for larger images:
Golden spanakopita (spinach and cheeses baked in filo dough) flaunted the contrast between creamy cheese and flaky pastry. And grilled fresh sardines had a real ocean funk smell (that's a good thing). Each day, a cook sliced a roast or fish to order. One afternoon, it was salmon, elegantly wrapped in puff pastry. Nearby, jumbo prawns, encased in prosciutto and woven on wooden skewers, fought for attention. Even chafing dishes held unordinary fare, like black mussels steamed in coconut milk with dried red pepper, and grilled Mediterranean vegetables, meticulously arranged to showcase their vibrant hues. Specials like al dente spaghetti -- each strand coated with butter, adorned with big rings of tender calamari -- was, indeed, special that day. Desserts were uniformly good. Cheesecake nailed the balance of flour to cream cheese, while éclairs were filled with pastry cream with the texture of silk. Only American-style cookies disappointed; oatmeal raisin and chocolate-chip were often dry. While breakfast and lunch consistently excelled, themed dinners didn't always match the quality of The Restaurant and Restaurant 2. For instance, one night's osso buco was a less exciting version of The Restaurant's. On French night, the weak onion soup lacked caramelized onions. The biggest lure of The Colonnade at night is dining outdoors, where the darkening sky and sunset weave their magic. One night, I lingered over exquisite foie gras terrine, chateaubriand and white peach sorbet, at one with nature and my meal. PATIO GRILLI only lunched at the poolside Patio Grill, although breakfast, lunch and dinner are served here. Lunch includes salads, pizza, burgers and hot dogs. It was all fine, and service, like everywhere on the Odyssey, was excellent. COFFEE BARSituated in Seabourn Square (the ship hub, Deck 7), the Coffee Bar enticed guests looking for a morning or late-afternoon pick-me-up. A genial Frenchman worked a pricey machine, fashioning cappuccinos and espressos with impeccable foam. Guests perched on bar stools and schmoozed, or took away steaming joe in paper cups. In the morning, chocolate chunk muffins, baby croissants and brioche beckoned from a glass case. In the afternoon, dainty sandwiches and pastries took their place. (These treats were all good and all complimentary.) GALLEY LUNCH BUFFETSeabourn smartly positioned buffet tables in the dining room to reduce the traffic flow into the galley. These tables were laden with breads, cheeses and desserts. Inside the galley were "action stations," meaning chefs were cooking, finishing or garnishing dishes before guests, upping the fun and energy. click on pictures below for larger images:
A cook, brandishing a big knife, stood behind beer-cooked chicken (replete with Heineken cans on display). Another cook dipped skewers of bread chunks into bubbling cheese fondue. One chef stood by small skillets, stirring risotto, adding saut�ed mushrooms or seafood upon request. At the end, the cooks paraded out of the kitchen to generous applause. They glowed with pride. These men and women owned their work and the results were on our plates. IN-SUITE SERVICEAs with all dining venues onboard, the emphasis was on service. One morning, my breakfast order was mixed up. That night, I received a bottle of champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries and a handwritten note of apology from the hotel manager. On another day, my fruit plate was presented like a still life painting; a long-stemmed cherry here, a thick slice of mango there. Caesar salad had a real anchovy bite. Prosciutto and melon came with addictive parmesan bread sticks, and rosy smoked salmon was accompanied by lemon crème fraîche and caper berries. click on pictures below for larger images:
I didn't like everything; hash browns shaped into a greasy wedge looked and tasted like a chain diner's spuds, and one night, a steak arrived overcooked. The crown jewel of in-suite service? Caviar and champagne. Complimentary. Whenever you wanted. But the caviar is not listed on the in-suite service menu. You have to know to ask, so I am telling any novice Seabourn cruiser that now. Turndown chocolates were irresistible Belgian chocolate squares from Varda Chocolatier, in flavors like mint or orange chocolate. The packaging said goodnight in five languages. I just wish the ship didn't use inexpensive-looking plastic covers for room service plates. They did not befit the Odyssey's otherwise, and overall, sensational culinary style.
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