Shapley's

Jackson, MS
$28-$50 Entrees

The first time I dined at Shapleys, I was 17 years old. A poor college student, I was taken there on a second date. Upon arriving, I was stunned to find that we were meeting his parents. On the second date. I spent the meal listening to his mother as she regaled me with an itemized list of what "Dear William" was looking for in a wife. I didn't eat much.

This week, I figured that the only way an experience at Shapley's could go would be up. The only problem: I was coming in from out of town and didn't have a babysitter. My baby, being the experienced diner she is, is almost always quiet at restaurants. I decided to take a chance. I could always take it to go if I had to. I arrived at the brick restaurant with oil lamps lining the exterior. I started to wonder whether Shapley's was out of my price range. Reminding myself that class is what you do when no one is looking, I looked around, and seeing no one, walked in. With a stroller.

The host graciously led the both of us to one of Shapley's elegant little alcoves. Although a bit put off by the formality and air of exclusivity, I liked the privacy. So did Baby Claire. Shapley's atmosphere is luxurious with candle light and damask tablecloths. However, the light is so dim that, like the lettuces in Mr. MacGregor's garden, the environment has a soporific effect. Although the men wear button-downs, surprisingly, coats are not required.

Shapley's is renowned for their incomparable wine list. Actually, it is more like a wine phone book. There are 46 pages of wines by the bottle. The 47th page is wine by the glass. I quickly turned to the 47th page. Any initial apprehensions I may have had about the prices were quickly drowned in a glass of Louis Gundrum Reisling. It was crisp and refreshing ... so good, in fact, that I ordered a second. My financial inhibitions slipped another notch.

Perusing the menu, I noted that everything is a la carte. I was also a bit astonished to see that Shapley's lists their prices on their menu ... a bit inconsistent with their overall image. I tried Shapley's famous bread, which was fresh with a crusty exterior and a soft, light interior. Of course, I slathered it with the whipped honey butter. Next, a garden salad consisting of mixed field greens and truly excellent blue cheese dressing. Somewhere in between this course and the next, I noticed that the waiter had failed to breathe a word about the specials. I listened with some jealousy as the waiter next door told his diners about oyster something or other. I thought vindictively "They might have just sacrificed a kudzu!"

Now, I have this thing. When it says au gratin, I have to order it. This time, it was the delicious creamed spinach au gratin paired with the cream and chive scalloped potatoes. Unfortunately, the latter were very bland. (I make a Martha Stewart recipe that is much better.) The side orders being quite large, and my baby not exactly pulling her weight, I requested that the rest be boxed up. The two came back to the table in one small box. I couldn't believe my eyes. The potatoes had been placed in a dessert box with the spinach on top! Needless to say, I sent it back, and they corrected the error.

I once heard a person complain that Ruth's Chris allegedly pours butter over their steaks to make them taste better. I thought, "and this is a bad thing?" Shapley's 8 oz. filet was delectable, if overpriced. As tender as the stick of butter they poured over it, it was nice and thick and perfectly medium rare.

In order to help absorb the effects of a touch too much Reisling, I ordered dessert. This is when Baby Claire strapped on the feedbag. In order to keep her quiet, I succumbed to her demands and plied her with vast quantities of bread pudding, hoping the alcohol content in the frangelico and amaretto sauce had been effectively burned off in the sauce pan. Personally, I think the sauce was disappointing, but the bread pudding was satisfying.

Baby Claire and I were becoming so drowsy in the Stygian darkness that I requested the check. Although this was forthcoming, the waiter then left and did not pick it back up for at least 20 minutes. Finally, he decided that the establishment would benefit from my payment, after all. I left the restaurant, my eyes adjusting to the comparatively bright night sky. A nonsmoker, I wanted a postprandial cigarette. I settled for postprandial narcolepsy.

3.5 kudzu