The Solarium's Decor Is Straight From The Fern Bar '70s, But The Prices Are Painfully '90s.
By Rebecca Cook
FOR MORE THAN 20 years, the Solarium, along East Tanque
Verde's legendary "restaurant row," has been captivating
Tucson diners. The architecture, with its lofty beamed ceilings,
multi-level dining rooms, a plethora of custom-designed windows,
stained glass and rock-and-tile booths, represents a sophisticated
California fern bar sensibility--an impression further enhanced
by a tasteful abundance of green plants. The collective effect
is singular and charming.
Yet, as H.G. Wells tried to tell us, time travel has its price.
And be forewarned: At the Solarium, you'll have to pay top dollar.
Ambiance and sentimentality is only worth so much. For a restaurant,
sooner it later it all comes down to the food, and this obviously
is not the Solarium's prime concern.
It's not just that the menu is a bit tired and humdrum, the food
essentially mundane or the service a bit lackadaisical. What halts
the merry meandering down memory lane at the Solarium are the
prices, which are easily on a par with some of the swankiest joints
in town. Call me crazy, but if I'm going to spend big bucks, I
want to be wooed. I want my taste buds to be thoroughly thrilled,
and I want to get up from the table infused with the kind of profound
glow in my soul that only a meal of superlatives can produce.
To say that the Solarium falls short of this cost-for-value expectation
would be an understatement.
Lunch here is low-key and casual, with a menu reflecting prices
that are at least within striking distance of reasonable (the
highest-priced item being sea scallops and pasta for $12.75).
Lunch is not apparently the meal of choice for most diners--the
day we visited at peak noon hour, there were but a handful of
occupied tables.
We sampled a crab Louie salad ($10.95) and a house specialty
Southwest chicken ($9.25), which consisted of a boneless, skinless
chicken breast sautéed in salsa butter and stuffed with
green-chile strips and feta cheese. The salad was nice: lots of
crabmeat (albeit previously frozen crabmeat) served atop a large
plateful of mixed greens, shredded red cabbage, wedges of fresh
tomato, sliced cucumber and red onion. The dressing was thoughtfully
added in a small pitcher on the side. There was nothing flashy
or unusual about the salad, but it managed to hit the spot.
The chicken breast was moist and tender, but disappointingly
bland. Somehow I expected the salsa butter and chile to add a
bit more zest to this dish. To make matters worse, it was accompanied
by an embarrassing preparation of rice and an inedible trio of
steamed broccoli, carrots and yellow squash, which added absolutely
nothing but color to the plate.
In addition, it took forever to get out of the Solarium. Even
though the restaurant was far from busy, the service was incredibly
plodding, with interminable periods during which our server quite
literally vanished. We waited on every snippet of our meal, causing
a workday lunch hour to stretch alarmingly to nearly two hours.
If you're punching a clock, beware.
Dinner is livelier. Happy hour draws in the younger crowd and
the resulting conversational buzz permeating the place gives the
impression of a happening scene.
Unfortunately, this energy doesn't seem to have penetrated as
far as the kitchen, where a spirit of ennui pervades most every
preparation.
Rather than expend our appetites on fried zucchini or traditional
shrimp cocktails (the typical Solarium appetizer), we opted to
sample soup and salad. Featured that day was a lovely tomato bisque,
smoothly puréed and imbued with the sweet character of
fresh, vine-ripened tomatoes. A sprinkling of Tabasco or red chile
infused the roux with a gentle and pleasing piquancy.
The house salad consisted of mixed mesclun greens, red cabbage
and fresh tomatoes topped with the house dijon vinaigrette. Nothing
revolutionary, but certainly enjoyable.
Once known for its prime rib, the Solarium in recent years has
bolstered its seafood and pasta offerings. I was impressed with
the various fish specials as well as the standing selection of
shrimp dishes, scallops, lobster and crab. In particular, I was
tempted by the king crab legs, a longtime favorite of mine. So,
true to form, I ordered it. Without asking the "market price."
Without inquiring if they were fresh. Big mistake.
Three incredibly large legs were presented conveniently halved,
allowing easy access to the luxurious white meat inside. The butter
that came with the big claws was so beautifully clarified I could
almost catch my reflection in the yellowish pool. The meat was
decent enough, slightly tough or mushy in some places , but still
fairly tasty. Not great by any means, but pretty good.
Later, however, when I found out this dish was going for $29.95
a pop, I was not a happy camper.
A taste of the featured fish specials proved slightly more satisfying,
but, at $18.95, a bit expensive. A Mexican lenguado (flounder),
sautéed lightly and stuffed with Monterey Jack cheese,
was obviously fresh and actually very pleasing, but devoid of
distinctive flavors. To remedy this situation, we added the only
available condiment, a generous dash of hot sauce.
A fresh salmon fillet, poached and served with a breath of green-chile
butter, was also quite good. The only drawback was the previously
mentioned rice and steamed vegetables, which seemed to be recycled
through the evening meal. Not a welcome sight.
Happily, however, dessert at the Solarium is absolutely scrumptious,
a circumstance that can nudge even the most prosaic of meals into
a passing grade. Most impressive is the Solarium cake, dense layers
of chocolate cake with variegated fillings of white and dark chocolate
ganache iced completely in a ponderous bittersweet chocolate glaze.
This is pure ambrosia for the chocolate aficionado, as is a flourless
torte known as "the mudslide," which deliciously incorporates
a German chocolate coconut and pecan filling. White or dark chocolate
mousses--airy and delicious--are also available, as are apple
tarts, New York-style cheesecake and carrot cake. Presented on
a dessert tray for your end-of-the-meal approbation, the final
culinary word also happens to be one of the Solarium's best.
Nothing, however, will soften the blow of that final tab, which
will leave you scratching your head in penniless wonder. It's
a lot of money to pay for food that, for the most part, deserves
no higher mark than "satisfactory," and frequently merits
a "needs improvement."
I know the space is engaging, but it's hardly worth the present
price of admission. Enough with this time-travel tour; I'm getting
off at the next stop while I still have enough money left in my
pocket to get home again.
The Solarium. 6444 E. Tanque Verde Road. 886-8186.
Open for lunch 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. Monday through Friday,
and diner nightly from 5 p.m. Full bar. All major credit cards.
Menu items for lunch: $2.95-$12.75; dinner $2.95-$24.95 ("market
price" items can be more).
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