Laura Zastrow
The crabcake sandwich features plenty of crab.
In the evening, from the far side of Lake Mendota, the glowing red sign at the Boathouse — the new incarnation of the Edgewater Hotel’s casual lakeside dining spot — beckons like the light at the end of Daisy’s dock. But should you be boatless, it’s almost as romantic to arrive via Wisconsin Avenue and head down the many steps to the lake level (they’re like something in Montmartre or San Francisco, these steps!) and snag a table outside, on the deck. There, just five minutes from the Capitol Square, sailboats bob on the waves, and old gents wearing mint green trousers and pink plaid belts order martinis straight up. It is a very boaty place, and as decent a replica for Cape Cod that Madison has yet come up with.
And if you are a sucker, as I am, for that version of an American summer, it’s hard not to like the Boathouse, where the view is all-important, the staff is helpful, and the company is mostly in a very good mood.
Since the Boathouse opened in late May, the menu has already been significantly revamped. It’s become a lot shorter, more focused on fish and seafood. This corresponds with the Midwesterner’s idea of eating fish or seafood while near a lake, even if the fish or seafood in question could not have possibly come from that lake. There’s no reason to expect clam chowder while snacking Mendota-side. Yet clam chowder often seems just the ticket, and will be at the Boathouse, especially once the gales of November chase diners into the chummy, casual indoor bar and dining areas.
Gone now is the weird, pico de gallo-like gazpacho, the chili burger and the tuna salad sandwich. The heart of the menu is five sandwiches — the crab cake, grilled perch, ahi tuna, a bratwurst and a burger. There’s also a fried shrimp basket and fish tacos. And, of course, a fish fry on Friday, featuring cod or perch.
The sandwiches are all quite good. The crab cake is full of crab, not padded out with breading, and the remoulade has a welcome bit of kick. The excellent focaccia bun, though, overshadows the crab cake, just as it overshadows the fillets in the grilled perch sandwich. I’d recommend going the DIY open-face route with these and giving the top of your bun to your tablemate who ordered the Louis salad. Heavy with crab, it’s the better of the two salads (the other is an acceptable Caesar). The play of the kalamata olives against the homemade, high-quality Louis dressing is very nice. The iceberg lettuce is fresh and crisp, though the salad could use some varied darker greens. That said, crab, which is mild even when eaten super fresh oceanside, is possibly not the wisest choice in the Midwest. There’s often no there there, in a culinary sense, with crab. It can turn into a ghost ingredient. But we’re doing okay here.
Still, I’d rather go with the char crust ahi tuna sandwich. Here the filling stands up to the bun. The tuna steak, though obviously grilled, did stop short of having a char crust; I was expecting something more like blackened. But it was cooked perfectly, still tender, with a pink center. The sparely applied wasabi mayo tasted just ever-so-vaguely of horseradish; some greater spicing would set off the tuna nicely.
The clam chowder features a buttery, rather than a cream-based, broth. This may strike some as odd, but the clams are plentiful, tender and yielding — the best clams I’ve had in a long time. It’s a great chowder in its own way.
Happily for snackers, the basket of Old Bay-seasoned fries and the battered cheese curds make excellent accompaniments if you’re just popping in for a drink. Most of the 12 taps are familiar Wisconsin names, if not very adventuresome picks (Spotted Cow, Warped Speed, Fatty Boombalatty, Madtown Nutbrown...). Eight wines by the glass are joined by housemade red or white sangria and a handful of house craft cocktails.
The mix of Madisonians and hotel visitors, of landlubbers and seafarers, lend the Boathouse a unique joie de vivre. People are happy to be here, and the feeling is infectious. It’s like how the very act of smiling does make a person feel better. For anyone working downtown, the Boathouse can create a vacation in a lunch hour, a way to get away from it all without even reparking your car.
And whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul, I will account it high time to get to the Boathouse — as soon as I can.
