Shari.com: This is the Disney I Love

(Picking back up with Spring Break.) It felt like such a day of luxury. Lunch at Gandhi Palace across from the park. A zip down the freeway to Newport Beach. A boat tour with sea lions and luxury celebrity homes. And now we were back at the Hilton, flopped out in the airy room, sipping double chocolate Frappuccinos, with all the time in the world (or five hours) until our reservation at Blue Bayou.

Mike napped. I read in the sunlight on the coral-pillowed settee. Around half-past-sevenish we parked at Timon and ambled into the park.

Crowds were still quite light, and we had time to kill before our 9 p.m. reservation. (The only slot available when we booked the day before, but nine was fine with us.) We went into the Tiki Room, which of course was great as always, even without the Dole Whip floats.

It wasn't quite 8:30 when we arrived at Blue Bayou; we decided to go ahead and check in, just to increase our odds of actually being seated at nine. I can't say the staff was unfriendly about this, but they were harried, terse, and seemed to think we were trying to be seated early. If this, the other two times we've talked to them (once to make the reservation and once on another trip to be turned away), and other people's reviews online are any indication, the BB desk staff apparently has a less-than-Disney attitude problem. No big deal outside of Mouseland, but worth mentioning when you're in a place that's supposed to define Exemplary Customer Service.

(However, the service for the rest of the evening was capital-O Outstanding. Our server (Anthony?) was gracious, smiling, pleasant, fast... one of the few Disneyland cast members who has sent me reeling back to memories of the routine "above and beyond" care we had at Disney World.)

We waited in the little "parlour" behind the desk, a small room done up in plantation style, with a pair of French doors that opens to a trellis. The trellis blocks your view of the dining area and vice versa. This is important because Blue Bayou's dining area is a sort of patio on the edge of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, the beginning part where the fireflies flicker and the banjos play. In other words, a pretty amazing atmosphere.

Here is Mike in the waiting area, standing on steps by the doors. I was sitting on a bench (hence the perspective). The photos are very blurry/yellow/grainy because I had the little camera and was not using flash.

We waited about 20 minutes, watching the people around us in their tank tops and jeans, glad not to be underdressed. (This is one thing I like about Disney - they do offer some tasty, higher-end fare that you don't have to dress up to experience.)

We weren't seated close enough to the water's edge to watch the people in the boats easily, but I think this worked out well. You get all of the ambiance without feeling compelled to shake your fist at the people who video the entire ride with their little LCD screen blazing in the darkness.

Bread came to the table (sure, on its own two feet - this is Disney) and mmmm. So delicious. Warm, soft, mm.

And, I know you can't see very well (and neither could we - one must squint by festive paper lantern light), but isn't the ancient-looking menu a treat?

We both started with the wedge salad. (The other option is gumbo. The whole menu is here.) I didn't know what a wedge salad was, but if you had described it to me, I would've riffed an inner snort and thought, "How pretentious." A wedge of iceberg with vinaigrette drizzled amongst the layers and some cheese and salami-type meat on the side? Was this not already parodied by Steve Martin in L.A. Story?

Except it totally, totally worked. Not only was it attractive, but the stack of layers, each with its smudge of dressing, and the delicate side-sprinkling of bleu cheese (I gave my meat to Mike), plus the sliver of normally hated avocado, all added up to Total Deliciousness.

(As soon as we got home, we started making salads this way. It's a nice trick for instant elegance.)

The menu says the salad is "Cajun-inspired." I have no idea what made it Cajun, but it certainly was an unexpected highlight.

For the main course, I ordered "Portobello Mushroom and Couscous Maque Choux," substituting "Blue Bayou potatoes" for the sauteed spinach. (I know, I'm a terrible person for hating spinach. You can hide a tiny amount in lasagna or a salad, but that's it. And cooked spinach? Oh, the miserable memories of smelling it upstairs, realizing we were having it for dinner. Just the memory of it is making my stomach roll in alarm.)

The potatoes were a sort of mashed/scalloped concoction, and I've missed them ever since that night. They were SO GOOD. The marinated and broiled mushrooms were full of flavour and hearty texture. I couldn't quite finish them, they were so large.

And the couscous? Such couscous! I'd never had maque choux ("mock shoe") before - Wikipedia leads me to believe that it isn't normally a vegetarian dish. But again, Disney is magic. This couscous led me to request the gourmet Mickey cookbook from the library as soon as got back. (Alas, the recipe wasn't in there. There's another letter to write.) The menu says it's made with roasted corn and bell pepper - perhaps it can be reverse-engineered.

Mike had the Tesora Island Chicken. Here is his plate, with an asparagus pointing rudely at the camera:

"Blackened, roasted and finished to perfection in pan au jus." He chose Blue Bayou potatoes and seasonal vegetables for his side, also deliberately avoiding the spinach. (Was this marriage not inevitable?)

What made the chicken so yummy I don't know (since Mike is having his first "oh boy it's a long weekend" nap at the moment), but it must have been pretty great because Mike has declared Blue Bayou to be his favourite restaurant in the California parks. If you know how much he loves Wine Country Trattoria over at California Adventure, then you know BB is good. (We had lunch at WCT the next day. Still terrific!)

We ate slowly, savouring the food along with the flickering candles and watery view. As much as I wanted to see what they would do with the Tortuga Trio of Creme Brulee ("chocolate, passion fruit and vanilla-bean custards, caramelized and served with Brittany cookies"), I was just plain stuffed, and Mike was right there with me in the sated-and-satisfied department.

The waiter brought foil-wrapped chocolate doubloons with the check, which we waited until home to enjoy. (Mostly because the next day we went a little nuts in the Marceline Confectionery at Downtown Disney. I have a small toffee problem, you see.) They were nice enough. (Not as cool as the Piece of Eight we got at Cafe Orleans last year, but that was a special movie tie-in.)

I'm told that Disney dining has come a long way over the years, but after eating at Blue Bayou, I don't know if it can go any further. However, someone should probably let whoever writes the Hilton hotel room guides know:

Travel to the moon? Well, I guess Space Mountain theoretically zips past it. But "dine on cotton candy and giant pretzels 10 minutes later"? What? Not only is this an insult to Blue Bayou, but you can do a lot better fast food-wise in the parks than carnival-samey faerie floss and jumbo carbs. (I can't even remember seeing cotton candy... although the pretzels I saw by the Frontierland entrance do come in a cool Mickey shape.)

These little boggles aside, I don't think we will ever get Disneyland passes again without also budgeting for a night at our new favourite park eatery. In the perfect words of Linda Rondstadt, I'm going back someday, come what may, to Blue Bayou.

Comments

Hi Shari,

welp, im taking my girlfriend out to the Blue Bayou tonight and this blog is making me so hungry!!! we've always wondered what it'd be like eating there. we have Premium passes and have never gone. in all the 3 years we've had them even as kids we've never gone. From what you wrote, tonight is going to be prefect. i'll write you back and let you know how it went. thanks =]

Posted by: Albee | 13 February 2009 at 05:32 PM