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Volume CXXXIII, Number 3 |
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MacMillan is 'old school' American food
KERRY ELSON
LAUREN McKEE
Staff Writers
The "Ferocious Foodies" began their 80s night
appropriately with
dinner at MacMillan & Company. Despite the allure of a decorous awning
and a pleasant wooden storefront, this restaurant dons dated wall to wall
carpeting and grass-green lamps, much as the Foodies did spandex and
scrunchies.
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| Mac Millan & Company, on Maine Street. (Henry Coppola, Bowdoin Orient) |
Families and the elderly contributed to a stilted, country
club atmosphere;
although the Foodies highly enjoyed the banter of small children and the
presence of kids' menus. Subconsciously bobbing to the '80's Jane Fonda
music, the Foodies reminisced on their old magenta sports bras, high top
Reeboks, sweat bands, and lycra girdles. And let me tell you, Kerry is
fond of the Fonda.
Feeling a little too hip in black pants and suede skirts,
the Foodies shook off their Bowdoin pretensions and opened their laminated
menus to be greeted by many surf and turf options. In contrast to their
other ethnic dining experiences, this place was very old school American.
Maine offerings were well represented- one may choose from lobster, haddock,
shrimp, and other marine dishes. Poultry standbys included Chicken MacMillan,
which consists of, well, chicken nuggets for nine dollars, and there's
always the reliable, classic Chicken Cordon Bleu. However, Foodie number
one opted for a filet mignon, and Foodie number two favored a vegetarian
entrée.
The server brought a much appreciated hot loaf of bread
and pitchers of water flavored with lemon slices. Drinks arrived expediently,
but the salads, which are included with entrées, didn't come for
an additional thirty minutes. When they arrived, however, they were quite
good. The honey mustard vinagrette tasted homemade, and the olives and
croutons lent a complexity to the salad.
After another twenty minutes of immersion in 80s beats, the Foodies finally
descended upon their entrees with alacrity. Foodie number one's filet
indeed
sufficed; for the meat was perfectly cooked (medium rare, baby) and of
high quality. Unfortunately, the accompanying broccoli was meek and flaccid.
Our companion termed it "completely psychotically gross" due
to its odd flavoring.
Now for Foodie two: first of all, "fajita" was
spelled "fajhita," and secondly, this "fajhita" was
actually a wrap- it came pre-assembled and tasted anything but Mexican.
Asparagus and artichoke hearts were also involved in the concoction. Nevertheless,
the herbed tortilla and savory dressing emulsion ameliorated the fact
that this was a "faux"-jita (pun intended).
The jewel of this American crown was actually the aforementioned
"Chicken MacMillan." These tenders were indeed tender, and clearly
fresh from the fat fryer. The chicken pieces were generous and served
with two
dipping choices: sweet 'n sour and BBQ, which both rocked the Foodies'
worlds.
However, Foodie number two, Kerry, philosophized on the
inherent contradiction involved in the simple label of "sweet and
sour." Nevetheless, the foodies' journey along the coastal plains
was yet to be completed. They wreaked havoc upon their common covenant
and defied their healthful ways by ordering the sinful Toll House pie.
The eighties prom queens were taken back to a time long past with mounds
of whipped cream, spoonfuls of vanilla goodness, and the sweet melt of
Nestle chocolate. The entire Homecoming Court could safely share this
colossal confection.
MacMillan & Co is certainly not without its nostalgic
benefits, but if tantalizing taste revolution is what one seeks, head
elsewhere. Patriots only.
2 out of 4 polar bears