Ad Lib by Thomas Keller
1600 Atlas Peak Road @Silverado Resort, Napa, CA
http://cdn.thomaskeller.com/sites/default/files/media/15-adl-007_display.menu_.2a.pdf
Review date: February 5, 2015

Emeril Lagasse and Guy Fieri notwithstanding, Chef Thomas Keller is one of the most famous chefs in America. Keller wins Michelin stars at the top end for The French Laundry and his Per Se restaurants, while also winning mid-range diners with his Bouchons (like Per Se, there are several), Bouchon Bakery, and Ad Hoc. 

Ad Lib, his newest, is intended to be temporary; a pop-up to keep the staff at TFL working while the Yountville flagship is being remodeled. It might disappear in March...or maybe not*. Keller is never averse to adding another positive to the bottom line. It's worth noting that Keller's supposedly temporary Ad Hoc kept getting extended, until it was finally acknowledged in 2007 as a permanent restaurant. 

* And in fact, on March 5th, Keller announced Ad Lib will remain open at least through October, 2015

Ad Lib is proving a bigger sell-out than Bouchon or Ad Hoc, simply because it is supposed to be temporary. No matter how much Chowhounders may diss TFL for the lure of Saison, Coi, Atelier Crenn, or Manresa, Keller's name remains an irresistible lure. 

We scored a reservation for a two-top by the simple expedient of my hitting OpenTable within ten minutes of the Inside Scoop article appearing in the SF Chronicle, announcing Ad Lib's existence. As it turns out, two-tops sold out quickly because this isn't a large space. It's in a high-ceilinged room in the venerable Silverado Resort called The Royal Oak, looking out towards the back of the property.

This has turned out to be a 'comfort food' trip so far, with all four restaurants in the first two days doing some version of homestyle cooking. With Farmstead it was Southern U.S.; at Farmer & Fox it's updated pub food, while Calistoga Inn bounced between East and West Coast favorites.

Ad Lib's menu promises American comfort food in retro dishes: short ribs, pot pie, mac'n'cheese. There is even a side of pork & beans, Campbell's style, something that is never going to show up at TFL, Per Se, or even Bouchon, except in the most rarified variant. Even Ad Hoc, which Keller describes as "his casual dining venue for showcasing the American comfort food of his childhood," has slowly segued upscale. Where once Ad Hoc offered only fried chicken as a boxed lunch, mostly to-go, it has now become a 'real' restaurant. 

For example, the menu for Ad Hoc on the night I'm writing this review for its sibling, lists "Mar I Muntanya: saffron rice, piquillo peppers, green beans, cauliflower, chorizo, roasted chicken, pei mussels, gulf shrimp. (+$16 supplement) Veal Cutlet, olives, tomato sauce, capers). 

If this is what Keller grew up with, the rest of us are indeed the grubbiest of grubby little peasants.

Ad Lib borrows heavily from steakhouse classics, although there is only one true steak on the menu. There is creamed spinach – heirloom variety only, of course – and mac'n'cheese, along with the aforementioned pork & beans. Oysters with a classic cucumber mignonette, shrimp cocktail and steak tartare. 

Price sensitivity subs short ribs for filet in the Wellington, and chicken for veal in the schnitzel. There is Keller's version of Salisbury Steak (his 'Chop Steak'), as well as a tiny list of nightly specials, none of which caught our interest.

Our first impression of walking into Ad Lib was OMG, the NOISE! It was deafening, and I don't say that lightly. Classic pre-Beatles rock – Elvis, Teresa Brewer, etc. – was playing at high volume with massive furniture-shaking bass, and never stopped. The room was full and people were talking – loudly, there was no other way they could hear one another. Noise bounced off the high ceiling and glass windows and amplified itself. It wasn't quite at the Marzano/A16 painful level, but it was pretty darn close.

After our exquisite, relaxing, comfortable experience at Farmer & the Fox, it was a real shock to be paying extra for the dubious privilege of being aurally assaulted. 

The bread is a loaf of Parker House rolls, and although served warm with very salty cultured butter, were good but not the best we've ever had (Lodge Restaurant @Carmel Valley Ranch wins on that count). Somewhat later two slices of overbaked sourdough were plopped on the bread board. We weren't asked if we wanted it; otherwise we would have declined it as unnecessary.

With some difficulty hearing each other across the table, Carlos and I worked out our choices. The first ding Carlos gave was for the service: the Caesar I ordered was prepared tableside, but his soup was served to him at the same time the Caesar cart rolled over. This is one of those small details non-professionals don't notice, but he was very aware of the service lapse. Since all diners are supposed to be able to begin at the same time, he said they should have prepared the Caesar, then brought out his soup when my salad was ready to be served. 

"I should not have to sit around and watch my soup get cold while they're whisking dressing," was his explanation. When you realize that the staff is either with, or training to be with, The French Laundry when it reopens, it is in fact these little details which make the difference between a $100/pp meal and a $700/pp dinner.

It would have been lovely if I could say the Caesar was worth the waiting. But it wasn't, and therein lays our quarrel with Ad Lib. There's a reason why a Caesar is usually made for two; unless you're going to start with half an egg yolk, you will end up with too much dressing for a single salad. If you have never had a tableside Caesar, you can be excused for being impressed by Ad Lib's rote presentation.

We were not. There was no question asked of "how many anchovies?" because you don't get a choice. I was informed the anchovies are premashed with the mustard. I wasn't too happy with this, and indeed, my first bite confirmed there was more mustard in this dressing than there should be, but darn little anchovy. The garlic was tasty but more a presence than the whisper it should be (it's supposed to be rubbed on the salad bowl's walls, not added to the actual dressing). Instead of a hint of dry mustard, there was a small mis en place bowl filled with what looked like mustard mayonnaise. Overall this tasted like a creamy mustard vinaigrette and there was simply too much dressing for the amount of lettuce. 

Like a Louie, a Caesar is all about the dressing. I assume the romaine was high quality; I certainly couldn't tell with all that creamy goop weighing it down. The lettuce was sliced in shreds instead of the whole baby leaves it should have been. There were a few overtoasted croutons and the very strange, although tasty, addition of Parmesan crisps. As they'd already grated a good quantity of Parmigiano-Reggiano on top before tossing, I found it interesting that even an above-average amount of fresh grated cheese could barely make a flavor dent through so much dressing.

It was, in short, not much of a Caesar, and merely a faked tableside prep. Similar to the idiotic coffee cart and vanilla ice cream cart at Madrona Manor, it is all show, but no real skill is needed. Using mayonnaise (or whatever the creamy mustard-anchovy yellow stuff was) stabilizes the dressing and prevents it from breaking. A true Caesar dressing actually takes skill to pull off; this did not.

Despite the "comfort food" claim, Carlos' clam chowder was not a traditional prep and had the unwanted/unannounced addition of crème fraiche to boot. If the crème fraiche is mild enough he can tolerate it, but it didn't help when the ingredients appeared to have been cooked separately. He said it tasted as if everything was thrown together just before serving, which is lovely in a stir-fry but not so much in a soup. The clams were fresh, but were left in big chewy pieces, which was either careless or stupid.

Everything is à la carte, so I chose the lamb chops with minted apple jelly, and a side of mac'n'cheese. Carlos chose the salmon along with the carrots glazed with honey. He requested the salmon rare, but the carrots well-done.

The salmon was a surprisingly large fillet, both in length and height. It's truly a bargain for the price of $34; this is easily twice the size of an average upscale restaurant portion. The sauce was a light, herbed beurre blanc. The fish was properly underdone as he wanted (but not raw), cooked via sear-roasting, and very lightly salted. It was delicious.

His carrots were alternating baby orange and white carrots, only slightly glazed but well-cooked as requested, but no hint of mushiness. They had a light whisper of freshly ground, toasted cumin, and were much less sweet than we expected.

Carlos scored much better than I did. The mac'n'cheese was classic, if salty, with toasted breadcrumbs and a little too much salt sprinkled on top before browning. Heated in a cast iron ramekin, the sauce hadn't separated but it had released a fair amount of oil, so it was on the rich fatty side. Although not a large serving and certainly tasty, towards the end it began tasting a little too greasy.

The lamb chops were three in number, good-sized and roasted separately. There was a coin-like round on the plate – the lighting was ridiculously dim in a room with charcoal-painted walls – which turned out to be a very salty lamb sausage atop a thick cooked apple ring. 

The 'minted apple jelly' turned out to be applesauce with a thin drizzle of housemade mint syrup on top, neither of which qualifies for jelly under any definition I'm familiar with. But it was welcome, because those lamb chops had enough salt to float an army in a freshwater pond. This wasn't from brining, but from a too-generous application of fine salt, all over the chops: top, bottom, sides; fat and lean parts. I honestly can't figure out how they got so much salt to stick to every surface. 

If there was any other seasoning on the lamb, I missed it. I managed to eat one chop and then gave up. Carlos offered to trade plates as he'd only eaten half his salmon, so we switched. He was fine with the lamb while eating the last two chops – he has a higher salt tolerance than I do – but afterwards he confessed he could still taste the saltiness in his mouth.

The desserts are all American classics, none of which appealed to us. We're not fond of American desserts, especially the traditional layer cakes, so we ordered cappuccinos instead. The foam was good, the decaf blend was strong but not as smooth as I'd expected.

The noise ebbed a little as tables emptied out, but the music stayed loud and as new groups arrived, the ambient roar amped up again into the unpleasant range. It was a relief to pay the bill and leave. 

There was a lot of staff, and several people asked how our food was. But when I replied to one inquirer, "The lamb was really salty," she just stared at me and said, "Oh!" and then walked away.

No questions, no follow-up by anyone. Let's hope she gets more training before they let her work at The French Laundry, or anywhere else for that matter.

Ad Lib was a disappointment to us, just as our second visit to Bouchon had been, back in November 2011. We love Bouchon's amazing sturgeon rillette, but it's a seasonal delicacy and not always available. Ad Lib is a steakhouse, without the variety of steaks but with the high prices, high quality, and high sodium of the 1960's. We Boomers did in fact grow up with that much salt, but not many of us still sprinkle it so lavishly on our food any longer. This was at the level where we both agreed the erratic salting hid flavor rather than accentuated it. With such beautiful quality ingredients, it was very disappointing.

On the other hand, Keller's not going to miss our piddling contributions to his bottom line. And nothing I write is going to prevent hordes of local and out-of-town diners from besieging the phone lines to get a reservation at one of his restaurants.

You are welcome to any seat we might have taken. We will be at Auberge du Soleil, or Bouchee in Carmel, or even Fox and Farmer down the road. When we finally walked out into the blessed quiet of the evening, I told Carlos, "If I ever suggest going back to one of Keller's restaurants again, just shoot me!"

He laughed.

Two people, dinner: two starters, two sides, two entrées, two beverages, with tip was $200.