|
|
 |
 An Era Ends In The Downtown Stevens House. By Rebecca Cook ALTHOUGH THE CLOSING of Janos Restaurant has been anticipated for nearly two years, when the moment to say farewell to the downtown landmark arrived at the end of June, more than a few tears were shed.
The 19th-century Stevens House, once home to one of this city's first members of the ruling elite, adroitly reconciles the classic lines of European nobility with a characteristic Southwestern flair. Note the massive adobe walls, the saguaro ribbed ceilings and rustic wood beams and moldings. There's never been anything the least bit generic about dining at Janos; it's unlikely that such a singular fusion of styles could have surfaced anywhere other than Tucson, Arizona. Is it any wonder that 15 years ago Wilder identified the then-vacant house as the ideal venue for his new restaurant, which would incorporate the very best of French cooking techniques with the freshest seasonal ingredients from our region? We met the opportunity to dine one final time amidst those rose-tinted walls with great eagerness, especially since it was likely that some of the dishes that have remained etched in our memories over the years might return to the menu. For his grand finale, Wilder polled his customers to find out what some of their favorite dishes had been. Given that Janos' menu changed at least weekly--even daily at times--the possibilities were virtually endless. This night, the menu ranged from the restaurant's first year of operation in 1983 on through 1996. The five-course spring tasting menu was the table favorite, being the most comprehensive method of enjoying the full breadth of Janos' offerings. Those of us who chose a more modest approach regretted our circumspection as soon as our companions' plates began appearing on the table. An ivory tower of Dungeness crab layered with sliced avocado and papaya, surrounded with delicate spears of lime-marinated hearts of palm, was heartrending to behold for those of us trying to comfort ourselves with a basket of warm bread. A dazzling panorama of plates comprised the first course: lobster and brie relleno; asparagus mousseline with shrimp, served in a puff pastry; shrimp and gazpacho cocktail; and risotto paired with braised portobello, morels, and truffle oil. A pair of fruit bisques made with fresh mango and strawberry, further embellished by a small orb of mixed-berry sorbet then served side-by-side in an ample bowl, also made for a light and refreshing start. By the time the entrees arrived, we were convinced things couldn't get much better. Par for the course at Janos, however, we'd experienced but the tip of the Epicurean iceberg. The sampler menu that night featured rack of lamb rubbed before roasting with smoked poblano chiles, prickly pear paste and crushed candied pecans, served with au gratin potato and chayote squash, and a minted, cabernet reduction sauce. The toastiness of the poblano melded seductively into the cabernet sauce, perfectly enhancing the meat's robust flavor. No wonder regulars called for an encore performance of this dish.
As the meal's finale drew nigh, our pace slowed. The inevitable post-prandial lull settled over the table, and we talked quietly about our magnificent repast and the fact that all good things must end. Or at least end before they can begin again. It was like opening the last present under the tree on Christmas morning, elated with the anticipation of the moment, but also saddened that opening it hastened the festivities' end. A few of us channeled our angst into sweetness: a magnificent chocolate mousse pyramid nestled in a coconut crème anglaise, then sprinkled with dried pineapple and crushed macadamia nuts; an ensemble of petite chocolate soufflé and dense chocolate mousse; a frosty serving of bittersweet chocolate ice-cream flecked with the faint fire of jalapeño peppers; a fabulous raspberry crème brûlée spooned into a lemon shortbread crust, and capped with a crispy caramel veneer. We cleaned our plates, settled the tab, dabbed our moist eyes and bid a fond adieu to our host. With typical generosity and upbeat demeanor, Wilder admitted not a single word of criticism for his former landlords, the Tucson Museum of Art board of directors who voted to oust the restaurateur when his lease ran out in August 1998. "Of course, we never would have chosen to have this happen," he says, "but our new place will give us some opportunities we wouldn't have had otherwise. We're very excited." Not only will Wilder be able to recreate a topnotch dining venue at La Paloma, he'll also have access to a vast wine cellar (housing between 9,000 and 10,000 bottles) and a second eatery, a bar/bistro featuring a more casual atmosphere and less-expensive menu. All in all, it should be grand.
Still, Main Avenue won't be the same. A fine restaurant is more
than the sum of exquisite fare and genteel service; such a place
becomes a revered repository for times shared and people remembered.
A fine restaurant absorbs them into its walls, into its own history,
so they can be experienced anew on each successive visit. We'll
miss what Janos made of the Stevens House; but how we'll savor
the memories of bread broken there.
|
 |
Home | Currents | City Week | Music | Review | Books | Cinema | Back Page | Archives
|
 |
© 1995-97 Tucson Weekly . Info Booth |
|
It's true that we'll have future opportunities to dine as guests
of Janos Wilder when his new venture at the Westin La Paloma opens
in mid-September. Still, it's hard to imagine those new digs can
come close to the historic grace, elegance and charm of the city-center
location. Never has a local restaurant been so well-suited to
its surroundings.
Other rave reviews were garnered for the following: lobster tail
braised in champagne and honey cream sauce, garnished with papaya
and a carrot and spinach timbale; grilled beef medallions capped
with seared shrimp and served on a pool of tequila lime beurre
blanc; and a grilled Norwegian salmon matched with wild-rice cake,
leeks, crispy beets and a chipotle-scented lobster sauce. The
only thing flowing faster than the wine at our table was an abundance
of superlatives.
