A Supreme Mediocrity

We couldn't have picked a better evening to dine in Madrona. With Seattle drenched in sunlight, my friend and I, dressed in our best, donning slacks and sports jackets (no ties) and sallying forth to pay for the privilege of dining with Madison Park's finest.

Supreme is a presumptuous name for a restaurant, so our expectations were up. Stepping out of the Montero and donning sunglasses, we entered yuppie heaven.

The restaurant is sheltered in what appears to have been an industrial garage. The big metal doors are gone though, having been replaced by tall glass windows. The light inside was blinding, aided by the bright white walls. No window shades were present. A bar had been installed along one wall, with wine bottles placed at precise intervals over the rear mantel. The dining area decor consisted of small tables with white cloths and red and orange candleholders. Place settings were simple but perfect. The staff was dressed in semi-formal black and whites, with details like belts left to their discretion (our own hip, lanky waiter had imitation reptile).

We were given menus, which were about the size of a reporter's notepad, printed on white paper mounted in a black paper covering. The front of the menu had been stamped "Supreme" by a crooked hand. Intentional? You decide.

Appetizers started at $8 for Italian anchovies served with toasted almonds and caper berries, and went up to $12 for chicken liver pate with pickled onion and cornichon. We skipped these, choosing instead to nibble on their bread, which had the taste of local store-bought stuff. Salads and soups included a simple Caesar salad with croutons and Italian anchovies for ($8), and Zuppa di Pesce ($9) with mussels, slams and whitefish swimming in a spiced tomato basil broth.

We decide to move straight on to the Entrees. Choices included a grilled half chicken, boneless, with leeks and sour cherry sauce ($18), and Black Angus strip loin with fries and asparagus for a mere $25. I opted for the lamb, grilled with flageolet beans and mint vinaigrette, all for a paltry $21. G.W. went for the pork tenderloin with potatoes, spinach and herbed olive oil. We waited, our hunger slowly overcoming our attempts at matching the highbrow conversations of our fellow diners.

Drinks arrived first. We sipped our $5 glasses of white 98 Soave, which were pleasant enough.

The lamb was fair, a bit on the dry side. The beans were tasteless and did nothing to complement the meat. The mint sauce and the bed of fresh spinach were truly the best part. Neither made up for it. The pork was juicier, but the potatoes were nothing special. We debated what the markup at Supreme was, and settled on about 200-300%.

The dessert menu appeared. My companion opted for a whiskey chocolate mousse concoction for $6, and I took a banana creme pie with a chocolate crust lining at the same price. Both were very good, incredibly rich, but not on par with desert establishments on Capitol Hill.

We settled our bill, which came to $76, and walked out into the gathering darkness. Though friendly and having interesting atmosphere, Supreme fails to be much more than mediocre. For the prices, the food could be far better. Advice for you students; if you have the money, don't blow it on Supreme.