Twice in a Blue Moon

As soon as my husband dressed for lunch in his Cantler’s T-shirt—a beloved souvenir from a rustic waterfront restaurant in Annapolis, Md.—I should have known our expectations for Blue Moon Lagoon were too high. Still, memories of the former Blue Moon Waterfront Café (which closed two years ago) coupled with the involvement of a marquee culinary name, led us to hope for food that could match the setting. Nestled just off the main waterway of the Cumberland River at Rock Harbor Marine, Blue Moon Lagoon occupies what is arguably the best restaurant location in this landlocked town.

Anyone who’s ever whiled away the sunset hour over margaritas and Siamese Cats—a signature catfish dish of the bygone Blue Moon Café—will rejoice in knowing that Lagoon owners Erv Woolsey and Steve Ford rebuilt the grotty structure before opening in June. They enclosed the bar, added indoor seating and reconfigured the dining areas.

No strangers to Nashville’s restaurant community (music industry veteran Woolsey and Ford own Code Blue and Losers, and they co-own Layl’a with Chris Hyndman), the duo brought in former Layl’a chef Scott Alderson to consult on the kitchen operations and menu. With a résumé that includes launching the ambitious and artistic menu at the bygone 6° restaurant, Alderson lent instant cachet to the project and inspired great expectations for the reincarnation of the floating restaurant, which also briefly operated as The Waterfront after the demise of the original Blue Moon.

Consulting is always a nebulous term, and in this case, we can only assume it involved a few site visits and some network-challenged cell phone calls between Nashville and Florida, where Alderson now lives. Given the spottiness of the food and the inconsistency of execution, it’s almost like every other word of Alderson’s advice was lost in the cellular ether. Maybe the conversation went something like this:

Ford: We want to make this the perfect outdoor dinner spot, with a simple, fresh menu of high-quality food that people can enjoy as they sip frozen cocktails and watch the boats come and go.

Alderson: Sounds like a slam-dunk. First you’re going to want to improve the plant and equipment.

Ford: How about we invest in a $5,000 barbecue smoker and we get some women’s bathrooms that work?

Alderson: Great ideas. And get some clean, comfortable outdoor furniture. Serve ice water in giant Mason jars. Equip your smokin’-hot waitresses with PDAs for taking orders and swiping credit cards.

Ford: We can do all that.

Alderson: I’ll pull together some easy recipes for fresh, excellent bar food—burgers, seafood and barbecue.

Ford: Sounds great.

Alderson: But there’s one thing you have to do no matter what happens...

Ford: Wait, say that again…Scott? You say there’s one thing? What’s the one thing? Hello? Scott, can you hear me now? Can you hear me now?

On our first visit, we could see bright spots of culinary style that we can only assume were Alderson’s ideas. The high-water mark of our dinner was the grilled kabob of tender, deveined shrimp and veggies served with a light citrus beurre blanc. The delicate treatment of the seafood presaged good things for the rest of the menu. Blackened grouper, plated with the same mashed potatoes and fresh green beans that accompanied the shrimp, was also gently cooked and well spiced, if not technically blackened. Fried catfish tenders and okra served with a spicy remoulade were well-executed, non-greasy waterfront bar food, and oysters on the half-shell made a festive and refreshing opening to a balmy summer evening dockside.

But things dropped off from there, starting with a familiar chocolate brownie—nowhere near homemade—and a basket of so-called monkey bread, which was a cute name for a rubbery banana loaf.

A follow-up lunch of wings, chicken tenders and fried pickles was wholly unremarkable, except that some of the chicken was too tough to chew. The house salad, a pale bed of wilted iceberg lettuce, was underwhelming. That said, the chunky Italian dressing was one of the highlights of the meal. I expect the house-made ranch or blue cheese would have been a good addition to the Thai spice chicken wings, but the dipping sauce we requested never arrived, and we didn’t have the heart to ask our extremely busy and good-natured server for one more thing during the crowded Sunday lunch.