I just can’t imagine a more pleasant conversation than the one I recently had with Mary Jo McMillin, chef/owner of Mary Jo’s Cuisine in Oxford. I’d called to get a few facts straight, and we talked for 20 minutes about her background. Although she never said as much, her passion for food and her lovely restaurant is obvious.
In an age when chefs flaunt their Culinary Institute affiliations, McMillin spoke quietly and simply about her training, which is more an accumulation of knowledge garnered from a lifetime of careful consideration of cuisine. She told me she grew up in the country watching her mother cook for her large family. There are things a mother can teach that can’t be learned at the institutes. There is love in the family kitchen not known in the culinary business.
She told me she cooked in Ireland and France, country-style, learning from real people in their homes. This simple “training” is poignantly evident when you dine at her restaurant.
The Thursday night we went was cold and drizzly.
The restaurant was across from Miami University’s admissions office. A somewhat incongruous neon sign indicated the small building, well lit and inviting, with a circular driveway in front.
It really felt like driving up to a friend’s house. The smell of fresh baked bread and simmering stock warmed and soothed us as we entered the simple dining room. The lone server (although she seemed more like an old friend by the end of dinner) showed us our table, one of maybe a dozen in the room. A simple white tablecloth, napkin and simple silver setting was all that was on it. We sat in classroom chairs procured from the university.
The very first thing our waitress told us was that they make everything in house. She pointed out the menu, written on a chalkboard, and I could just tell we were in for an exceptional evening. We ordered everything on the menu — there were only two starters, two entrées and two desserts.
As the Classical music mingled with the soft sounds of the kitchen, the bread arrived. An Irish Brown Bread obviously inspired by her time in Ireland was lusty and hearty, and a sourdough was yeasty and a little bitter as it should be. A small ramekin of sweet butter was all the warm bread needed — I’m sure it was served fresh from the oven.
The first course arrived, soup and a salad that we shared, and they were perfect in their simplicity. A Mixed Green Salad ($4.95) was fresh mesculin greens, romaine and orange slices drizzled with vinegar and olive oil, cracked pepper, that’s all.
So why did I taste garlic? Did she rub the salad mixing bowl with a clove? Where did that hint of Grand Marnier come from? The oranges macerated in a drop, I’d guess.
The Potato Soup ($3.95) was classic and French, puréed with leeks and stock and finished with butter. It was wonderful. Honestly, you could have put the handmade Irish plates back on the shelf we cleaned them so well.
The dinners arrived, aromatic and beautiful. Mine was the French Pot Roast ($14.95) — love at first bite. Potatoes and long-roasted beef were served in a deep brown sauce and garnished with haricot verts and baby carrots, again the country French influence.
Describing this seemingly plain dish belies its complexity. I could sense the vast array of technical skills and taste the levels of flavor McMillin lovingly gave this dish. I could taste a mother’s love along with the bouquet garni and a fine cook’s patience in the dreamy sauce and the fork tender beef.
My companion had the Country Ham with Noodles and Stripped Chicken ($12.95), tender Smithfield County smoked ham cooked down to release its flavor and made into a sublime sauce with butter and maybe a touch of cream. Hand-stripped chicken was added, and this all went over homemade egg noodles, garnished with the same vegetables. Thank God McMillin was raised in the country! Never has a farm dish been so fondly interpreted and so elegantly presented.
Of course, dessert was as good as dinner: Chocolate Crème-Filled Cake and warm Spiced Apple Cake ($6.25). The apple cake was warm and homey, served with sautéed apples and English cream that melted all through it. The chocolate cake was sort of showy for this place with a ganache and butter cream filling.
I’m reluctant to tell you this, but I must: Mary Jo’s Cuisine will be open for only another six months. Since 1986, McMillin has served Oxford, and now she’s closing shop. I could sense her reluctance to do so, but 18 years is a long time to be chef and owner.
Cuisine is defined as “a style or manner of cooking,” and she has developed her very own cuisine, “Mary Jo’s Cuisine,” and it’s well worth the trip to Oxford. Savor it while you still have time.
It’s for sale, you know, and she even said she might help a new owner keep it like it is. If I fall into a vat of money, that’s the plan.
Call, make a reservation and go. Mary Jo’s is à la carte on Thursdays and has a prix fixe ($29.95) on weekends. ©
Mary Jo’s Cuisine
Go: 308 S. Campus Ave., Oxford
Call: 513-523-2653
Hours: 5:30 p.m. Thursday-Saturday
Prices: Moderate to expensive
Payment: Visa, MasterCard
Red Meat Alternatives: Plenty, just ask
Grade: A
This article appears in Dec 24-30, 2003.
