Chez Albert Is What a Restaurant Should Be

What makes a restaurant really special? Is it the way it feels when you walk in? Is it the lighting, the music, or is it the guy who greets you in French? Last night I discovered it's all of these things as we celebrated Cindy's birthday at Chez Albert in Amherst.

The proprietor here--Albert--greets us at the door, actually I got there early and chatted him up. He serves as waiter and maitre'd, and said he can't cook. He leaves that to Paul Hathaway, who earned serious chops with Todd English and running big restaurants in Boston. The place has just 24 seats, I had made a reservation (as usual, under the name 'King') so I took my seat at a copper topped table. He brought forth crusty bread with a spread made of white beans, lemon and garlic. A wine bottle stood at the table, full of water, so no need to keep asking for more since I am a water person.

When Cindy arrived, people were just getting settled, it was a mix of pairs: two fifty-something women out on a date, a professorial type and his wife and son, another couple to our left and a woman dining solo. The specials were written in a typically French scrawl on a blackboard, among them our choice, a salad of goat cheese, arugala, toasted walnuts and bib, with a sublime light lemon dressing. Then it was coq au vin, the classic dish once made with roosters now just a full plate with tiny onions, a few brussel sprouts and below the tender sauced chicken a bed of creamy mashed potatoes. Cindy's veal cordon bleu was a delicious rich combination of tender veal, collards and roasted potatoes.

Even the wine was special tonight--a white burgundy with a deep yellow color and distinct taste. What makes a restaurant is the combination of intimacy, food that's hearty and not prissy, and a server like this guy who just makes us feel welcome and relaxed. No 'I'll be your server tonight,' crap, just a few laughs with one of guys who owns the joint. Lovely!