Mitchum’s Steak House
4021 Main St.
Trappe, Md.
410-476-3902
Open Tues.-Sat. 5 p.m.–10 p.m.;
Sun. 5 p.m.-9 p.m.
Atmosphere: Warm and clubby
Service: Unsophisticated, but
well-intentioned
Don’t miss: Marvesta sautéed shrimp and grits, sixteen-ounce Delmonico
Tariff: Appetizers, $8-$13; entrees, $22-$45
A restaurant named for actor Robert Mitchum couldn’t be anything but a steakhouse, could it? No dainty tea room with small plates for him. No, sir. Beefcake needs meat, and Mitchum’s Steak House offers lots of it, plus some appetizers that make dinner seem nearly redundant.
Sensing the need for a steakhouse on the Eastern Shore, Brenda Tighe (who also owns the gourmet deli, Mitchum’s Market, next door) and her business partner, Douglas Halliday opened the restaurant last October. Tighe lives at Belmont, Mitchum’s former thirty-acre farm in Trappe. (The actor spent eleven years there raising his family.) And each time she passed the former general store on the corner of Main and Maple in the town’s center, she’d fantasize about its potential as a restaurant. When the building went up for sale, Tighe and her husband bought it, not realizing that because of the building’s condition, they would have to tear it down and rebuild—which they did. The new structure has the exact same footprint as the old building, Tighe reassures.
And a handsome footprint it is. The nearly floor-to-ceiling storefront windows remind diners of the site’s history as a general store and creates an airy space, yet the restaurant still feels warm. Movie posters and a striking series of black-and-white historic photos of life in Trappe by the late Trappe-born photographer Laird Wise Sr. decorate the red and khaki walls.
A stunning Tiffany chandelier dominates the entrance; a dark mahogany bar runs the length of one side of the room. When we arrived at 7 p.m., most of the action was at the bar, but by nine o’clock, the restaurant was filled with carnivores. Two blonde-streaked gals in cashmere shared a table in the corner, while permed ladies in holiday-theme sweaters shared a table with their blue-blazered companions. We saw jeans and gray flannel, neckties, and gold chains.
We also saw the Robert Mitchum-Marilyn Monroe Western, River of No Return. Twice. Yes, there’s a television, a thirty-inch flat-screen, at the bar which plays Mitchum movies (and the occasional sporting event) continuously, if silently (with closed captions). My group found this a huge distraction, but Tighe says customers love the films and that one couple even calls ahead to see what’s playing so they can reserve a table with a good view of the screen. This gives “dinner and a movie” a new twist, to be sure, but why would you want to be distracted from your dining companion—or even more, your dinner? At any rate, I advise getting a table with your back to the television so you can enjoy both.
We began our meal with five generous appetizers. Our favorite, Marvesta sautéed shrimp (from a local producer) and grits was the perfect balance of flavors and textures, boasting perfectly cooked shrimp, spicy cubed andouille sausage, and creamy, chewy cheddar grits. Another standout was the house cold plate, a generous serving of delicately house-smoked pork tenderloin, sopressata salami, goat cheese, marinated artichokes and red peppers, cornichons, and stone-ground mustard. The tenderloin was so good that I scanned the menu in vain for a chance to order a larger portion. Three baked oysters were sweetly rich with lump crabmeat, spinach, and a sherry-spiked cream sauce; while I highly enjoyed one of them, I can’t imagine eating all three and having room for dinner. Less rich was the single crab cake, moist and lumpy with crab and garnished with braised fennel pattypan squash, an unusual, but delicious combination. The arugula and pear salad was a lovely plate of the tiniest, tender baby leaves and slivers of pear and onion dressed with a mild cinnamon vinaigrette, which sounded odder than it was.
We sampled all manner of beef and one fish dish for our entrees. (The menu also offers scallops, crab cakes, and chicken breast.) And the beef was the clear winner. Tasting four cuts of beef at one sitting reminded me that we often get used to eating one cut of meat and forget that different cuts should taste distinct from each other; Mitchum’s does a great job of making these nuances obvious. Filet mignon was sweet and soft, while the flat iron steak embodied chewy bistro rusticity, and osso bucco tenderly fell off the bone into its rich sauce. The Delmonico, however, took my breath away with its intoxicating combination of smoky, spicy flavors reminiscent of sweet tobacco. The dry rockfish fillet just couldn’t compete.
Sides at Mitchum’s, as per steakhouse custom, must be ordered extra and are generous enough to share. Brilliant, billiard-green sautéed spinach was a favorite for its obvious freshness. Sautéed mushrooms satisfied, too, again because of its simple preparation, something that could have benefited the crispy French fries, whose seasoning made them taste like fast food instead of homemade.
There wasn’t much room left, but as we watched Mitchum tackle a wildcat (again) on the television screen, we attempted to tackle dessert. Unless they improve, next time I wouldn’t bother. (“Wasted calories,” is how one diner at my table put it.) Vanilla crème brulee was simply sweet. The cheesecake tasted too strongly of lemon extract. Apple crisp was weighed down by heavy clumps of oatmeal topping, and while the molten lava chocolate cake oozed liquid chocolate, it was strangely lacking flavor. Tighe says that she’s not a dessert person, so she hasn’t paid enough attention to the desserts to know whether or not they are good. They’re not, but it wouldn’t be too difficult to make them better.
Like a saloon in the middle of a barren Western town, Mitchum’s is drawing diners to tiny Trappe. Sure, our server that night was a bit unsure of herself and the names of some of the dishes, though always well-intentioned, and the wine list has room to grow, but the hearty food overshadows all of these smaller issues. Tighe reports that Robert Mitchum’s daughter visited the restaurant and said her father would have loved it. “I feel like he’s watching over us,” Tighe says. Cheers, Bob.
Mary K. Zajac writes from Baltimore.
