Arrival Day Pt. 2: bluezoo, blue who?
After the gate congestion at MCO and small gabfest at the Swan's checkin desk, we were a little behind my loose "schedule." I had expected us to be checked in and ready to hit Hollywood Studios around 7:30pm at the latest, but it was 8:30pm by the time we hit the walking path to HS. (Sitting for 40 minutes on the runway behind our gate, waiting for the plane ahead of us to take off, really disrupted my time estimates
)
We had a nice, humid but not too hot, 15 minute walk along the "river." The sun had already set by then and set the mood for Hollywood Studios, which we both feel really ~shines~ at night (but actually, because of all the neon signs!).
In May we didn't get to go on Toy Story Midway Mania at all *or* visit HS at night, so that was one of T's requests for this trip. TSMM is one of his favorite rides, so I'd made a fastpass at 8:20pm for us. The park was already quite empty. TSMM's FP line was long, but not a horrible wait at all.
Side story time: we overheard a family behind us talking about their plans to go to Starbucks tomorrow to use up some of their 38 leftover snack credits. I shot a look at T, who despite having degrees in economics, mathematics, and a job in the finance/data side of tech, really wanted to get the Deluxe Dining Plan for this trip (before we changed to the Swan, which put that conversation to rest). He insisted he knew it was rational for us to forgo the DxDP and knew we would end up spending more than doing TiW/OOP, and forcing ourselves to eat more than we would normally. But he also claimed that the idea of not worrying about prices and the feel of being "all inclusive" overwhelmed his senses. I countered he could let go of price inspection without prepaying for a dining plan, and that we could just load a gift card ahead of time to pay for meals, and that is what we did. I may have noted what he described is basically how dining works on a cruise, and that we should definitely go on a
Disney cruise next.
Also while in the TSMM queue, I moved our late dinner OpenTable reservation at Todd English's bluezoo from 10 to 10:30, since I didn't think we would be presentable without showering first. We rode TSMM, had lots of fun, soaked in a little bit more streetmosphere, and headed for the park exit.
By this point I was exhausted and hungry -- I'd only had the banh mi so far, while T ate like 300 protein bars on the plane. He suggested we stop for a snack and I thought he was insane. I wasn't about to eat a Mickey pretzel before dinner at bluezoo. We briefly considered taking the bus back (the boat service to HS was closed for refurbs) but we hoofed it instead, and I rationalized that mild exercise on an empty stomach = increased hunger = more room for food! (This is definitely not how it works, just btw.)
After showering and dressing in our Florida finest, we left the Swan to make the agonizingly long, gruesome walk over to the Dolphin:
(the causeway light show was underway, and iirc Katy Perry's "Firework" was playing at the time)
ALSO quick mention here: I didn't bring any cameras on this trip, so hopefully you, dear reader, don't mind iPhone photos!
Pretty sure it took all of 3 minutes between exiting our room and entering the front door of the Dolphin's lobby, including the times we stopped so I could force T to take pictures of me. None of them came out well -- photography is not among his talents. Yet I, his loving partner committed to his personal growth, make him take photos of me anyway
We checked in at about 10:15pm and were seated immediately... because we were the only people in the restaurant, with the exception of a few folks drinking in the lounge. When the hostess walked us to our table, she pointed out the raw bar selections and this evening's "dancing fish" (fish rotating + roasting on display over a fire). She probably has to point these out by decree of restaurant management, but I thought this was a bold move considering the raw bar was empty except for maybe ten oysters, and the three dancing fish had obviously been at the ball for several hours.
We were big fans of the decor, which is more or less an ~under the sea~ theme with lots of wavy designs, bubble lights, many shades of blue, and red-orange seats that resembled pops of coral. The purple light on the right of the photo above is a photobomb of the causeway light show through a window -- it wasn't actually this bright in person.
We began with drinks: a smoking watermelon sangria for me, and a cocktail called "the local's bee's knees" for T.
The smoking watermelon sangria is a seasonal play on the normal smoking (red) sangria. It was fruity, light and refreshing, but overall it was all show, no go -- after the "smoke" dissipated it was disappointingly small.
T's cocktail really WAS the bee's knees: the glass was so cute! A little beehive, with a yellow-striped straw! It was quite strong as well as a much healthier pour.
The bread basket followed shortly after drinks came out:
At this point I was empty-stomach-tipsy, so I don't have better pictures of the bread basket
It included slices of sourdough (good, but I have nothing else to add), some parmesan-rosemary flatbread crisps, and some focaccia (you can see just the top of one underneath the sourdough slices). They were literally the spongiest, moistest, most heavenly focaccia to ever reach my taste buds. It was "amazingly pillowy soft and moist holy ****!!!!!!!!" according to my iPhone notes. I remember saying those didn't even need the butter because they were so flavorful and delicious on their own.
Now for the butter... I don't remember exactly what the herbs were -- rosemary but a few others, too -- and I could've eaten this straight up with a spoon. It was to die for, SO GOOD. Neither of us usually go hog wild on the complimentary bread service at restaurants, but we indeed were like hogs, stuffing our faces with all of the bread and butter. We might've thrown elbows. I think we even licked the butter ramekin (I felt free to do this because the restaurant was empty and our server seemed nonjudgmental).
The focaccia was my absolute favorite, while T favored the flat crisps, saying they reminded him of bread service in certain places in Germany/Italy. I knew what he meant and I understood the nostalgia aspect, but the focaccia was objectively best of the carbalicious basket.
After tub-tubbing on the bread basket and behaving like sophisticated diners, we were full. We could've left and gone to sleep happy. But on the way from the kitchen were two entrees and a side:
I ordered the "simply fish" and chose corvina out of that night's fish selections (I remember a tilefish was another choice, but I can't remember the third one). ((T read this and remembered the third fish was swordfish.)) For my sauce I went with the "warm crabmeat, dijon mustard, chives" because the sauce of the day was like a lemon-citrus beurre blanc, which is nothing new or exciting. The simply fish is served with "fresh spring pea puree, red skin mashed potatoes, buttered carrots, organic mache lettuce." Pretty sure there are some other lightly pickled vegetables hanging out by the mache lettuce, but I don't recall what they were.
The sauce was unbelievably good. I thought it would only be slightly preferable to a beurre blanc, but this was the bomb dot com! There was so much crabmeat -- the photo above shows about half of the sauce, as it's brought out in a small copper measuring cup (you can see the shadow of the cup's handle around 12'o'clock ^) and the server will pour some tableside. The name of this sauce is misleading because it seems like it'll be some ho-hum dijon mustard sauce, but far from it, it's delicious and a bit tangy and flavorful but not too rich.
I would probably pass on the corvina in the future. It was fine, but it was like a chewier halibut and the skin wasn't crisped well -- it was too chewy and fatty (it was pretty darn thick). T liked the skin. It wasn't quite flaky like cod but it wasn't quite meaty like a swordfish steak -- it was somewhere in limbo.
The "fresh spring pea puree" is just for appearances because it was, literally, just pureed peas -- no salt or any seasoning to speak of. It may have been cut with water because that is how bland it was. I like peas, but this was almost like a palate cleansing base to the dish, and seemed a little out of place with everything else. I thought the peas would have a hint of sweetness but it was like two shakes away from cardboard. I remember particularly loving the mache lettuce and the roasted carrots. The potatoes were good too, but it's hard to mess those up.
Overall I remember this being a well-balanced dish, with the crabmeat/dijon sauce standing out nicely against lighter (and still delicious) flavors. I wouldn't hesitate to order this again. Also, it was quite the generous helping. I was not expecting such, and I didn't finish all of this. (Were it not for our bread extravaganza, though, I probably could have.)
Now with my longwinded "simply fish" dissertation out of the way, we move onto T's entree, the "pecan crusted florida grouper - jumbo white asparagus, mashed sweet potatoes, savannah red rice, indian river citrus beurre blanc":
I felt like my dish had better presentation for being more colorful, but his was a perfect tie-in of Florida-ish, southern influences. The grouper was excellent, definitely preferable to the corvina. The pecan crust was a light crust on the top of the grouper, not all the way around, and that too was delicious. The mashed sweet potatoes were good (but again, they're just potatoes) and the rice and sauce were good, though I thought my sauce beat out the beurre blanc. His dish was also a plentiful portion.
T especially loved the white asparagus and again said something about how very German they were, and how pleased he was that they came with the dish. After googling "Germany white asparagus", the hits include: a link from the Guardian with preview line "It is impossible to overstate the German obsession with white asparagus," a mention of the "revered white stalks" on another site, mention of "scenic asparagus routes" in the countryside, and guides to celebrating asparagus festivals while visiting Germany. After five years together, I finally have some context for why he beelines for asparagus in the grocery store and seems to only know how to season and sauté asparagus perfectly... it is in his DNA!
For a side to share, we ordered the lobster mac and cheese:
(unmarred)
(dug into. notice the butter ramekin in the back, with just a few dregs we must've missed
)
Similar to the German obsession with asparagus, I cannot overstate how incredibly rich this was. I wouldn't be able to eat this on my own, even on an empty stomach. It was delicious, for sure -- that crust was perfect and it was definitely one of the most well made macs I've ever had -- but it was far too rich and cheesy for my personal taste. I blinked, and T devoured it with gusto; I had maybe three or four spoonfuls. I also didn't taste or see a lick of lobster, but T says it had good lobster flavor.
In addition to eating all of his entree and the mac, he finished my dish for me.
Next, a totally unjustified dessert course. I wanted at least three desserts because they all sounded delicious and I *knew* they would look beautiful, which at this point in the trip was totally a valid reason for ordering something (later in this report we will learn, beautiful ≠ stomach-worthy!). T, ever the voice of reason and cheapskates everywhere, insisted we get only one because neither of us were even hungry. I had already narrowed my choices to two, but he persisted.
I told him I would never forget this, nor would I forgive him for making me pass up the "citrus moon" (lime and almond frangipane cake, lemon white chocolate cream, grapefruit sorbet, orange caviar, grapefruit agar and lemon meringue).
He did not relent.
But ultimately it was the right choice, because the "blueberry angel food cake" was a diva, deserving of the sole dessert spotlight:
(*heavenly choir, strumming of harps, etc.*)
(and a brighter photo)
This was angel food cake, blueberry cream, whipped white chocolate ganache, blueberry ice cream, and blueberry agar. What an amazing, light, perfect dessert. Looking at this and looking at the menu description, it sounds like it'll be one-dimensional and fall flat since it's basically a compilation of different blueberry interpretations. I'm happy to say that is not the case! All of the different textures, temperatures, and blueberry flavors played together so, so well -- I felt like this dessert was the physical representation of "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts." The blueberry agar (the darker, more solid squares on top of the angel food cake, it alternates with dollops of blueberry cream) was probably my favorite part. This dessert was interesting and playful, and I thought the presentation was absolutely beautiful.
Despite being "totally stuffed" and unable to order a second dessert, T managed to find the stomach space to enjoy this too. At the time we were laughing it up and enjoying the evening, but a week later, I still haven't forgotten the citrus moon.
We finished eating around 11:35pm and got the check. Tables in Wonderland saved us $25.10, and in addition to the auto 18% gratuity we left a $20 bill because A) cash is king B) we felt bad for being the only diners there just before the end of dinner service, when our server probably could've gone home earlier.
After a lovely dinner, we began the long arduous journey back to our room, and we bumped into one of the awsome front desk ladies from earlier that evening! She was leaving to go home. We chatted, thanked her for the awesome room upgrade, and I tried not to let my uncomfortably full stomach spill over
All in all, our dinner at bluezoo felt like a perfect cap to a perfect night, and a ~magical~ start to our trip.
Up next, we continue our adventures under the sea...