The Mandarin Oriental's signature restaurant wins attention with its dramatic decor and eclectic menu, from miso-marinated hamachi to pan-seared beef tenderloin. Azul's lively kitchen boasts a rainforest-like drip waterfall and seats guests by the serene bay view. Its menu is complete with a seafood bar of oysters, lobster, stone crab claws, shrimp cocktail, classic ceviches and caviar.
Azul at the Mandarin Oriental, one of Miami's sexiest hotel restaurants, has a new chef behind the rainforest-like drip of the waterfall that fronts the lively kitchen.
His name is Clay Conley, and he offers a sharp contrast to his predecessor, award-winning chef and culinary cover girl Michelle Bernstein. In place of the French-trained Bernstein's often precious, Caribbean-accented jewels are bold, multi-faceted dishes with a more rustic flair.
Conley, 30, who worked in Todd English kitchens including Olives in Boston, D.C., Vegas and Tokyo, has a more Mediterranean style. It is, in just a few cases, too heavy-handed for South Florida, and the execution is less consistent than one expects for such a pricey proposition.
Five months into the job, Conley says he has been charmed by the local produce and is incorporating more of it into his cooking each day. That's evident in such splashy appetizers as lobster salad with hearts of palm and avocado served in a coconut shell and dressed in a tangy grapefruit vinaigrette. Its light but lusty flavors could serve as a postcard for Miami dining.
Ditto the only remnant from the old menu: an outstanding seafood bar of oysters, lobster, stone crab claws, shrimp cocktail, classic ceviches and caviar, which is as appealing -- and pricey -- as ever.
The simple, feng shuied dining room with elements of stone, glass, water and wood and the multi-million-dollar bay view remain a big draw, but it is the service that would make me a repeat, expense-account customer.
As a resort restaurant, Azul is accustomed to children in its elegant dining room, but the staff outdid itself one evening when our party included a 5-year-old girl. The child was regaled with crayons, a coloring book and a pair of pashmina shawls. She ordered from a budget-priced kids' menu (pizza, spaghetti and meatballs, mac and cheese, a fine chicken noodle soup). Grandfatherly Swiss maitre'd Patrick Bragger all but sang her a lullaby as she put her head down to sleep on the upholstered chair he'd pulled up for her.
The adults, meanwhile, were not at all neglected. An attentive but unobtrusive sommelier offered sage advice on the diverse and fairly priced list. Our waiter brought a stool for my handbag in between delivering dishes with speed and accuracy. On another visit I was offered magazines while waiting for a friend.
It would be hard for any cuisine to measure up to such over-the-top coddling. Conley's decadently rich cooking nearly makes the grade, but it is at times a bit macho and, unfortunately, uneven.
On one visit my swordfish was cooked to sawdust while on another a delicious salmon ''brick'' was carefully seared outside and still perfectly rare in the center.
The bouillabaisse -- a Noah's ark of seafood including meaty shrimp, clams, mussels, snapper and a seared scallop in a rich and hearty chile-and-curry sauce with a plank of charred garlic toast -- was competent if a bit weighty for a tropical afternoon.
So, too, a baby chicken paprikash with a luscious sauce and foie gras stuffing but an arid chicken breast roulade. The so-called crme frache dumplings were simply croutons doused in cream.
A 14-ounce rib-eye steak filled the plate and was cooked medium-rare, as ordered, but was tough and did not have the depth of flavor one would expect for $43.
The simplest dishes were the best, including a sublime, miso-marinated hamachi -- a delectably buttery slab of fish so tender it hardly needed a knife. It was complemented perfectly by edamame-dotted rice and shrimp dumplings.
Another winner was the peppery grilled shrimp -- as meaty as any steak -- with ricotta gnocchi (a bit gummy) in a sweet tomato-and-lobster sauce with hints of shallot and basil.
An emerald pea soup was full of the bright flavors of spring, balanced with lusty, coarsely ground pepper and a fist-sized sidecar of sweetbreads blanketed by glazed ham.
Salt phobic diners take note: There is no escaping the chef's heavy hand with the shaker.
Chocoholics on the other hand, will be charmed by pastry chef Patrick Lassaque's elegantly grown-up desserts. His puff of a vanilla soufflé filled with a semi-sweet chocolate sauce and equally deft hazelnut chocolate tart with rum coffee ice cream are divine.
