The Magic Show

An evening at Willsboro's Turtle Island Cafe can only be described as magical

Story and photos by Benjamin Pomerance

Good food is nothing if not magical. How else can one explain a chef's ability to take seemingly mundane ingredients and transform them into a taste-bud-tingling work of art? Look at any top dining establishment around the world, and you'll be sure to find some culinary slight-of-hand going on in the kitchen.

Of course, the best magic chefs don't make their craft seem like anything out of the ordinary. Take David Martin, for instance, chef at Willsboro, N.Y.'s Turtle Island Café. Curious how he created that duck you just devoured for dinner? He'll tell you. Want to know how to bake your bread just like he does? No problem. Interested in the methods behind making that perfect chocolate dessert? He's happy to talk about it, bringing the mystique that resides behind the swinging doors to the table of any customer who wants to talk shop. Nothing is better than a chef who enjoys talking about food, and Martin — a 1988 honor's graduate of the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park — likes nothing more than describing the craft he loves best.

And yet, like any good magician, he'll still surprise you. He'll show you that his top hat is empty, and then pull out a rabbit, or prove nothing's up his sleeve before producing a quarter from thin air. To hear Martin talk about the ingredients and methods of preparing his meals is a confidence booster for those who want to duplicate his recipes...it doesn't sound so hard after all…Yet behind the kitchen doors, Martin somehow morphs into Houdini with a chef's hat, creating dishes with just enough pizzazz to leave you, the diner and the audience, to gasp: How did he do that? With any of Martin's meals, one can be sure there is more to the plate than what meets the eye. I have been to Turtle Island Café several times before, and jumped at the opportunity to go again. It was a Sunday night, typically a slow night for most restaurants, but the cozy establishment was packed when my parents and I arrived around 7 p.m.

Originally the town pharmacy before being transformed into one of the region's most popular eateries, the small building hugging the banks of the Boquet River doesn't appear that impressive at first glance. Inside, however, diners are greeted with a welcoming atmosphere of the homey but tasteful eating space. Remnants of the building's former life still remain, the massive wooden sideboard that once housed medical bottles now bedecked with crystal-clear vessels of wine. The rest of the decor is the work of Martin and his wife, Mimi Lane, Turtle Island co-owners whose influence is felt in every nook and cranny. The name Turtle Island refers to the Native American belief that the world is an island carried on the back of a great sea turtle, and, in keeping with this concept, nature-themed furnishings surround you from the moment you walk in, rustic and but somehow elegant at the same time. Magic, yet again.

Our meal, like any repast at Turtle Island, began with an amuse bouche, a complementary taste of the enchantment yet to come. Tonight, Martin had been inspired to make shrimp rolls as his opening act. By sight, they resembled the egg rolls one can find in any corner Chinese restaurant. By taste, they were nothing like it, the crunchy, paper-thin shell a nice contrast to the softer filling, the shrimp leaving a slightly tangy but absolutely delicious aftertaste in my mouth.

After finally ending our deliberations over who should order what, our appetizers arrived promptly, their smells alone enough to make you forgo manners and dive in without bothering with utensils. We decided to share two plates among the three of us, the ample but not overly large portions providing more than enough to whet our appetites for the main course.

Our appetizers provide a perfect illustration of how this establishment manages to turn seemingly simple items into gastronomic delights. For our two choices, we had ordered two very simple, basic foods — pizza and ribs. Yet the pizza was topped with melted goat cheese and artichoke hearts, their tastes mingling perfectly atop a crust much thinner and far more flavorful than anything a fast-food pizza could offer. A double-topping from Pizza Hut this was not. Our other choice, the ribs, seemed to fall in a category between Texas and Tennessee styles of barbeque — not too spicy, but with enough zest to enhance the flavor of the meat. Yet the real surprise here was the accompaniment: grilled watermelon slices, each one tasting like no watermelon I had ever sampled before. This was one of the few foods I have ever tried that I cannot find words to describe. All I can say is this unique presentation of a standard summertime fruit was both delicious to taste and the perfect complement to the delectable ribs.

Yet the magic was just beginning. Soon after our empty plates were cleared away, the salads arrived, to go with the basket of rosemary-enhanced bread we were all enjoying. At many restaurants, the house salad is the least creative part of the meal, a predecessor to your main dish which turns out to be little more than iceberg lettuce and the occasional bland vegetable. Not here. These house salads were house specialties, organic greens with a selection of fresh vegetables, pumpkin seeds, and Vermont goat cheese, all tossed with sherry vinaigrette dressing — a sensational combination.

Of course, one could expect no less from Martin, a man who appreciates the value of food produced in the environment around him. In a tableside conversation later that night, he revealed that Turtle Island always tries to use fresh produce from local farmers who practice sustainable agricultural methods. The café does the same when purchasing their dairy and meat products from regional producers, and only uses wild-caught fish and seafood of sustainable species. Not only is Martin committed to conjuring in the kitchen, he aims to do so with a minimal impact on the environment around us — perhaps making the end product all the more magical.

The main meals arrived, each one a work of art that looked almost too good to eat. Key

word: almost. The tempting smells rising from each plate were far too tantalizing to delay sampling our three selections. My father's choice was one of the evening's specialties: bluefish, a meaty game-fish that can often taste rather oily. This bluefish, however, was anything but oily and overly strong, instead featuring a fresh, full-bodied taste, a little like swordfish but not nearly as thick or tough. Mom selected the other plait du jour, smoked chicken ravioli served in broth every bit as good as any soup I've ever had. The broth, courtesy of Martin's explanation, essentially takes the flavor of whatever is around it, in this case the tender chicken within the soft ravioli shells. A perfect autumn dish, ravioli and broth alike provided me with a sensation of utter warmth that spread throughout my entire body.

For me, no meal at Turtle Island is complete without someone trying the café's famous duck, my choice for the evening. Slowly roasted ‘till the skin is just oh-so-perfectly-crispy and glazed with an Oriental-style combination of sesame and soy, Turtle Island's renowned canard has been featured on PBS and is a perennial favorite of North Country diners. Tonight was no exception. I like duck anyway, but this preparation is one of the best — if not the best — I have ever tried.

The grand finale came, as it always should, with chocolate. Chocolate lava, that is, created by a melted center of chocolate ganache spilling out of a crater formed by a flourless dark chocolate cake. The next time someone wants to re-write the dictionary, whoever is charged with defining the word “decadent” can come to Turtle Island and find the answer in this chocolate paradise, a particular favorite of my admitted “chocoholic” father. A sweet ending, indeed.

We left Turtle Island that night as we often do, tummies full and taste buds singing with delight. A night of eating out is always an enjoyable experience, a chance to escape the hustle-and-bustle of daily life and sit down for a brief respite of tranquility. Yet a meal at Turtle Island goes beyond the norm, the methods and the foods defying your initial expectations. Leave most restaurants, and you feel pleasantly refreshed; but leave Turtle Island after an evening's exposure to Martin's craft, and you'll swear there really is magic going on in that kitchen.

Have you ever eaten at Turtle Island Cafe?