[table for two]

Riverfront Delight:
The Union Café is a worthy successor to Roy’s Riverboat

By: Rosa Bianca

“Air conditioning or not?” the host asked when Fay and I walked, hot and breathless, into Union Café to escape the 100-plus temperatures for an early dinner. It was a no-brainer. We’d had warmer days this early summer, but it was warm enough, even at five in the evening, even with a storm coming up from the Southeast. We were seated in the window overlooking Market Street.

It was too hot, and the weather too threatening, to attempt one of the balconies. In the Union it was cool and dark, the slate floors, black-painted wooden beams and dark-brick red walls curiously at odds with Deborah Cavenaugh’s bright and whimsical paintings which hung throughout the space.

I have a friend (not Fay) who thinks everyone needs a makeover every two years. If that’s true, then 2 Market Street was long overdue. Having been an anchor and cornerstone of the downtown area since the Eighties as Roy’s Riverboat Landing, more than a few people were surprised when Roy’s closed its doors in January. A scant four months later there was a new coat of paint, a new sign, and the doors were flung open again as The Union Café—a new look and a new feel for a new era.

And, of course, a new menu. The Union, like Roy’s before it, is part of the Caffé Phoenix family. Whereas the Phoenix specializes in elegant Mediterranean fare, the Union’s menu is designed with an edgier American flare.

“I’m seeing the word ‘gorgonzola’ mentioned a lot,” Fay muttered as we looked down at the menu.

“Yeah, but you are also seeing the phrase ‘applewood-smoked bacon,’” I returned, which was true.

The heart of the menu is its house specialties and entrée salads, each of which adds its own unique twist to what might be called the “new American” standards: “Baby Spinach and Gorgonzola tossed with diced tomato, red onion, crumbled applewood bacon, toasted pine nuts, and white balsamic vinaigrette.”

“Tortilla Chicken Salad with spicy shredded breast of chicken over chilled lettuce with roma tomato, shredded cheddar, avocado, tortilla crisps, bean and corn salsa, and chipotle ranch dressing.”

“Bistro Steak pan-seared shoulder tender with applewood-smoked bacon, gorgonzola skillet potatoes and wilted spinach.” (I wasn’t kidding when I said that gorgonzola and applewood-smoked bacon showed up quite a lot).

But before patrons decide on something from the menu, they should take a look at the Union’s “chalkboard specials,” which is where most of the seafood dishes—changed daily, depending on what’s good at the market—will appear.

While Fay dithered between the filet (wrapped in bacon, with gorgonzola) and the Cajun fettuccini, I squinted at the chalkboard hung up on the one wall that did not have a Deborah Cavenaugh painting: Greek pasta with seafood, stuffed flounder, fried tilapia. None of specials featured either bacon or gorgonzola. Eventually, our waiter, a genial guy named Paul, returned with our drinks and a small basket of bread.

“The Greek pasta,” he said as he set down the basket, “has tomatoes, seafood—basically the kitchen sink.” He paused and added, “I had it for lunch.” I nodded my thanks. “It has three kinds of olives!” he insisted when it appeared, and I didn’t look quite enthusiastic enough. I nodded again while Fay, who likes olives about as much as she likes gorgonzola cheese, kept her eyes down and tried not to make a face.

Actually, the Greek pasta did sound like my kind of dish—and it did seem to have pretty much everything one could throw into a pasta dish: olives (three kinds!), shrimp, scallops, squid, artichoke hearts, sun-dried tomatoes, feta, capers...kitchen sink. If I had been in the mood for something sharp and briny, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But I was in the mood for mild, not sharp, and subtle, not in-your-face. So while Fay settled on the Cajun Fettuccini with prawns and Andouille sausage, I asked for the Crab-Stuffed Flounder described on the board, over garlic mashed potatoes with asparagus. We also ordered a starter of “Oysters Riverboat,” the Union Café version of Oysters Rockefeller.

We didn’t need to wait long. Our appetizer came within five minutes—half a dozen oysters deep-fried, wrapped in bacon(!), sprinkled with freshly-shaved Romano cheese and sitting on a bed of pureed spinach and creamy horseradish. I’m doing it a disservice by calling it a version of Oysters Rockefeller—it really is nothing of the sort but an almost entirely original creation.

Most readers know that I rarely order oysters done any other way than simply steamed or broiled. I’m a minimalist when it comes to this particular delicacy. But these were, well, delicious—sweet, not at all gritty, and very intensely flavored. I found myself swirling mine in the horseradish sauce and wishing I had ordered a whole appetizer for myself. Fay also appeared to be wishing the same.

Our meals arrived in due course. Fay looked a little shocked when the waiter deliberately laid a large soup spoon in front of her before the entrées were served. Her Cajun Pasta was a monstrous bowl of fettuccini swimming in a mildly spicy but creamy tomato sauce and absolutely covered in seafood—not just prawns and scallops, but also crab, and a generous helping of sweet sausage. My own dish was a respectably sized flounder fillet, folded over a simple crab stuffing that was all crab, no filler. It was smothered in a rich, creamy white sauce, piled over pencil-thin asparagus and a mound of light fluffy mashed potatoes with roasted garlic.

I was halfway through my meal before I realized that Fay was diligently trying to eat hers with the spoon she’d been given, and not having much success. “You don’t have to use the spoon,” I pointed out.

She shrugged and grabbed a fork. “I thought I should at least make an attempt,” she answered. The rest of the meal was nearly silent as we dug into our dinners. Mine was lovely, neither too garlicky (a common failing among restaurants) nor too sauced. The flounder was perfect, not a bit of it over-cooked or dry. The crab, absent of all the filler that usually accompanies crab, tasted sweet. And the asparagus was crisp and fresh. I cleaned my plate.

Fay did not, but not for want of trying. We ended up taking a fair-sized helping of the pasta home, where I had it the next day for lunch. Despite the preconceived notions that come to mind upon hearing the word “cajun,” this dish was also quite mild, with just enough peppery taste to it to counter the creamy sauce. I was impressed that the prawns weren’t over-cooked, something that always happens to me when I try to add small shrimp to pasta. I’ve been Googling the ingredients to see if I could come up with a version I could do at home.

Paul-the-waiter returned several times to check up on us and make funny remarks. I gave him points for not asking me how I was enjoying my meal the moment I took a bite of something. It was a great dinner, the kind of meal that is bone-deep satisfying. Roy’s Riverboat Landing was a Wilmington institution for more than 25 years. Here’s hoping The Union Café beats that record.