An Unforgettable Experience

Written By: Luke Osteen | Issue: 2016/04 - April | Photograph By: Marjorie Christiansen Photography

Just last month, someone came up to me and complained that my restaurant reviews are relentlessly positive. This perspective, he maintained, gives them all the necessary flavor and resiliency of a pile of overcooked kale.

OK, I can argue the point, but I’ll also concede that the illusion of unrealistic sunshine is predicated on two
immutable facts.

First, my personality is eternally optimistic. Something about my basic makeup allows me to find something positive in nearly every experience.

(Nearly. I can’t help but be more than a little saddened that I was not named People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive for 2015. For those of you keeping score, that makes the 38th year in a row. I’m beginning to think that I’ll never make it. Even after I sent in 16 carefully composed selfies. And don’t even get me started on this year’s US News & World Report’s Hunks & Hotties. Clearly, it’s rigged.)

Secondly, it’s a reflection of the precarious situation facing every restaurant in Highlands and Cashiers. With such an abbreviated busy season and exorbitant rents, they’re all walking a tightrope suspended between some measure of success and utter disaster. If they’re not finessing the game with everything they’ve got – from menu to waitstaff to presentation, they just don’t survive. It’s brutal Darwinism at its most basic.

Which brings us to Madison’s. This jewel at the heart of Old Edwards Inn & Spa is the apex of the local restaurant scene. Local restaurant scene? Let’s cast that net a little wider – with impeccable ratings on Open Table and Yelp and AAA’s Four-Diamond Award, Madison’s is recognized as one of the finest dining experiences in America.

So how am I going to cast a bit of shade on this venerable Highlands institution? 

Well, let’s start with the menu – Tricia ordered Crispy Rabbit Schnitzel and Rabbit Confit, and Almond Crusted Sunburst Trout; for me, it was a Rustic Caesar Salad and Red Wine Braised Beef Shortribs. For dessert, we coveted and reluctantly shared White Chocolate and Roasted Pear Bread Pudding, and Warm Sticky Toffee Pudding. 

Do you see the problem? With such a carefully composed menu, how could the actual dishes be anything less than extraordinary? We relished every morsel, and it was a constant struggle between carefully savoring each forkful and shoveling great bites into our mouths like Ponderosa ranch hands.

I really can’t find fault with Madison’s gorgeous dining room. It beguiles with a remarkably sumptuous atmosphere, inviting both intimate conversation and languid dining. This is not an experience to be rushed. 

Which brings us to our server. Pennijo was confident and unfailingly sunny and somehow managed to pull off the remarkable trick of being both attentive and unobtrusive. 

But if we’re to find fault with our dining experience, it would be Pennijo’s mix-up with our water. As we were seated, Pennijo offered a choice of three waters to accompany our meals – Highlands Tap, Sparkling Water and Spring Water. Tricia opted for Highlands Tap, while I went with Spring Water. 

Well, halfway through the meal, Pennijo accidentally added Sparkling Water to my glass half-filled with Spring. You can imagine my fury as the out-of-balance water played hob with my critic’s carefully calibrated palate. How was I supposed to enjoy my meal now?! 

(Actually, that water mix-up didn’t happen. Pennijo was faultless and poised and an absolute delight. I threw this last bit in so that Richard Simonson, the complainer I introduced at the beginning of this review, won’t have a leg to stand on the next time he takes me to task. Madison’s was an
unforgettable experience.)