Amuse offers pretty views, a good-looking room, and a seasonal array of Med, Asian and Latin influenced dishes, many of which are more ambitious than delicious. The seafood, however, including a fine crispy skinned salmon with wine soaked risotto is luscious. Fruity desserts are serviceable and an overpriced wine list could use some work. As the neighborhood improves, I expect so, too, will the dining room.
In the parking roundabout at Tempo Miami, white-vested valets linger like schoolboys on the corner waiting for girls to saunter by. When one finally does, the guys jump to attention, straighten their uniforms and produce megawatt smiles. One was happy to chase down my cellphone when I realized I had left it on my front seat, even giving it a little polish before handing it back.
Besides their obvious charm -- and boredom -- these guys at Rock Resort's sky-grazing hotel/condo give a handsome face to the otherwise gawky skyscraper that casts shadows over the AmericanAirlines Arena. The ambitious Marquis project may seem eerily empty at this queasy real-estate moment, but it's trying to make a go of it with its sexy pool deck, Jetsons-like décor and dizzying views.
Oh, and the restaurant. Situated rather anticlimactically on the third level, Amuse looks like nothing so much as a posh airport lounge with smoothly rounded ceilings and glowing recessed lighting that makes everyone look as if they just had a week at a spa. The skeletal young crew -- our sweet waitress seemed to double as the bartender -- is mellow, kind and disarmingly honest.
The Argentine chef left just a week into the gig (a replacement is expected any day now), leaving behind a rather bristly menu mash-up of tropical, Asian and Mediterranean elements with some modern flourishes. Consider, for example, pan-seared langoustine with a carrot coconut puree, Rice Krispy, sweet carrot galangal emulsion and beet essence. Hmm. The staccato descriptions make it tough to know what to order, and we found most we tried to be more ambitious than delicious.
An example of the misplaced ambition is the Tempo ``chowder'' ``onsen tamago.'' The double quotes should have warned me to stay away. A bowl of respectable potato veloute was besotted with pinky-sized baby radishes, beets and carrots, still with their stalky greens, topped with onsen tamago, literally a hot springs egg -- the kind of thing served in Japanese spas where the egg yolk ends up nearly hard while the whites remain jiggly. While none of the elements was bad, it was a bit like pabluum and tough to eat with a spoon.
Better starters include see-through sheets of scallop carpaccio dotted with slivers of radishes, hits of lime and the scent of oolong tea and truffle, as well as a large house salad with a bounty of fresh and crunchy greens and beets.
We considered the foie gras, red sorrel and watermelon-tinged duck, but chose instead a fine pan-roasted salmon with crispy skin and a deeply hued purple risotto with wild mushrooms. Also nice if overwrought is a halibut fillet with an earthy parsnip puree and celery root mousseline. The pretty half-moons of blood oranges brought a nice citrusy brightness to the plate.
Serviceable at best, the California-heavy wine list includes such retro suspects as Beringer white zinfandel -- seven or eight bucks in the store, $35 here. Better options like an albariño from Rias Baixas ($50) and an Emeritus pinot noir ($72) suffer a near quadruple markup. At least the pours were fairly generous and the proper temperature.
Desserts also include lots of fusiony elements, but the simplest won out. A brightly colored mélange of raspberries and vanilla ice cream gets a nice poke from black pepper and tart, rosy sauce.
While the restaurant seems as much a work in progress as the property itself, I have hopes that it, too, will fill up and find its way. It would be a sexy spot for drinks and dinner before or after any event downtown.
