Hats off to Cap's cuisine

Given the name, it is paradoxical that those choosing to join eating clubs so rarely take quality of food into consideration. I won't deny that other factors like social life influenced me last February, but in the end I remembered that I would actually have to take sustenance from my club, and that I would be at the mercy of an omnipotent chef every single day. Thus, in order to ostensibly aid those of you who have yet to decide while selfishly humoring my own epicurean proclivities, I have set out to review the food at each and every eating club on hallowed Prospect Avenue. Intrigued by the reports of its members, I began at the Cap & Gown Club.

Partially hidden by luxuriant foliage, Cap's imposing Norman Gothic facade momentarily distracted me from my single-minded pursuit of food. After appreciatively inspecting the solid oak door and ornate stone scrollwork, I swiftly returned to the task at hand and followed my obliging friend into the airy, welcoming dining room situated to the left of the doorway. As I stood in line to be served, staring directly into the small of the towering back in front of me, I felt like Gulliver in the land of the massive Brobdingnagians. Breaking my short reverie, a cheerful server loaded my plate with chicken topped with goat cheese and balsamic vinaigrette, Yukon Gold potatoes and green beans. Though I cast a reluctant glance back at the bustling main dining room, I allowed my friend to lead me into an adjoining seating area, where we sat down to our meals.

The creamy sourness of the goat cheese proved an excellent foil to the sweetness of the vinaigrette, and the fragrant steam emanating from the chicken breast underneath attested to its tenderness. I have a penchant for skillfully sauteed potatoes, and Cap's Yukon Golds were a splendid example of that magnificent tuber. Their crunchy golden exterior complemented the satisfyingly mealy interior beautifully, and I was hard pressed to refrain from indulging my potato infatuation to the exclusion of the rest of the meal. The green beans were neither overcooked nor over-salted, and thus I was willing to interrupt my starchy feast to consume a few tasty legumes. Stuffed and overdosing on carbohydrates, I managed to eat only a small cookie before I labored my way home to sleep like a hibernating bear. Before succumbing to a gluttony-induced coma, I resolved to return to Cap & Gown to further explore their chef's creations.

This time, I prepared myself and ate lightly throughout the day. When dinner time rolled around, I was famished and ready to devour whatever was put before me. The menu that evening consisted of braised Swiss steak with mushroom gravy, red skin mashed potatoes and sugar snap peas. As I sank into one of the plush red leather chairs that abound in the Cap dining room, I reflected on how much more inviting the walnut beamed main room was than the area in which I had eaten previously.

The steak possessed a crumbly, appealing texture and a smoky flavor, but was regrettably bland and monochromatic; only the glistening mushroom gravy atop saved it from mediocrity. Once again, Cap's potatoes hoisted the meal to greater heights on their pillowy backs, enveloping my palate with a smooth sumptuousness broken only by intensely flavorful bits of salty red skin. The sugar snap peas, much like their green bean predecessors, were well-cooked but unremarkable next to their starchy counterpart. To top off the main course, I had a firm and delicately seasoned grape leaf from Cap's copious salad bar. Everyone loves a good grape leaf, and I'm no exception; this pungent Mediterranean tidbit inundated my palate with its lemony flavor, inciting my taste buds into a Dionysian revelry.

Ready for dessert, I made my way to Cap's baked goods sideboard, where a pyramid of macadamia nut brownies reposed upon a gleaming silver tray. The brownie started off chewy and understated, but as I persisted in my mastication, decadent chocolate flavors blossomed, vying for dominance with the nutty notes of macadamia. For the second time, I stumbled home from Cap massaging my aching stomach and cursing my weakness for delicious repasts.

In my mind, Cap has proven itself twice now to be a worthy destination for any Princetonian who fancies himself a gastronome. I haven't yet experienced the fried food for which Cap is famous, but if the array of thoughtful and well-balanced dishes that I have so far encountered is any indication, it's sure to be mouthwatering. I plan to coerce my friends into taking me back for lunch, so that I may indulge in Cap's.