Maison Carlos, A Dining Gem on Antique Row, No Matter When You Visit.
By Liz Balmaseda   |  Restaurant reviews  |  January 28, 2011

Ten months ago, Carlos and Lanie Farias, the owners of Maison Carlos, moved their lovely restaurant of white-linen tables, quality Continental dishes and simple, yet polished décor from party-hearty Clematis to a smaller, nondescript spot on South Dixie Highway’s antique row. And a beautiful thing happened: Nothing.

Maison Carlos is still well-frequented, still quality, still simple, still polished. It’s a gem of a spot where the food is solidly good, the service is attentive and the setting is quiet and relaxing.

There’s a light, airy ambiance inside the 11-table eatery of creamy walls and warm wood floors. It’s a neighborhood place, where one can drop in for a weeknight dish of pasta or a rustic asparagus Milanese (tender asparagus drizzled with olive oil and lemon and topped with a creamy, sunny-side-up truffled egg and curl of Parmesan, $12).

It’s also a nice date-night or special-occasion spot, where you can feast on truffled lobster "Mac and Cheese" ($28), nibble on a soufflé de fromage ($14), or share an amaretto-kissed chocolate mousse ($8).



Maison Carlos All Settled in its New Home
On the face of it, there’s a certain romance to the way Carlos and Lanie Farias run their white-tablecloth Italian restaurant, Maison Carlos.

Two months ago, the couple relocated Maison Carlos, formerly on downtown West Palm Beach’s Clematis Street, a few miles south to South Dixie Highway in the Antique Row neighborhood.

It’s a five-minute walk from their home. Since it’s now only open for dinner, there’s more time for family, namely 15-month-old son Alex. 

Since the restaurant has gone from 160 seats to 40, the business is less purveyor-driven. Every morning, Carlos and veteran Chef Robert Dedrick hand-pick produce and seafood at area markets and farms.

Lanie and Palm Beach interior designer and friend Cynthia Thomas created the decor of the new location with budgetary ingenuity—shell chandelier, natural wood floors, aluminum roofing fronting the bar. It’s at once minimalist and cozy.


Smaller Maison Carlos Reopens on South Dixie With New Menu, Same Owners
By Jan Norris, Wed., Mar. 31 2010

West Palm's Clematis Street is becoming too "watering-hole-ish" for the owners of Maison Carlos, a white-tablecloth eatery that held down a spot across from the venerable Pioneer Linens for some time.

- "Excellent in all categories."

This is an excellent restaurant ... taking pride in their amazing food and service.

- "If you're looking to impress, or be impressed without going to "The Island", Maison Carlos is the place."

Published: June 12, 2003

"Surprise, surprise! West Palm Beach’s Clematis Street finally has a fine restaurant. Credit owner Carlos Farias, executive chef Robert Dedrick and maitre d’ Thomas Martin, all of whom previously worked in Palm Beach: Farias as maitre d’ at Renato’s, Dedrick at Nando’s and Acquario, and Martin at several eateries. This restaurant serves classic French and Italian fare, and the service reflects that heritage. And where else do diners receive a finger bowl after eating shellfish? Dedrick combines fusilli with grilled chicken, portobello mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes in a creamy goat cheese sauce. He serves spaghetti with jumbo lump crabmeat, asparagus, fire-roasted peppers and sun-dried tomatoes in a garlic-and-basil broth. Grouper is paired with roasted garlic, kalamata olives, capers, tomatoes and garlic. Steak au poivre is loaded with peppercorns: embedded with the black variety, then finished in a demi-glace of the green, plus mustard and brandy. Dedrick sautés veal medallions with mushrooms and shallots and finishes with a demi-glace of Marsala. Following dessert, ask for a glass of lemoncello, a savory lemon-flavored liqueur that goes down beautifully following a fine meal."

At Carlos' house, they play by the rules - By Jen Karetnick
Published: Thursday, August 21, 2003

"One by one, each of my dining companions illuminated the same point: Every entrée we ordered at the seven-month-old Maison Carlos, perched on the eastern end of Clematis Street in West Palm Beach, was plated with identical architecturally composed vegetable and starch. Clearly, they all thought this was something I would criticize.
They were wrong. In this case, I was hardly bothered. For one thing, the vegetable -- sautéed leaf spinach on this night -- was so fresh that it practically glowed with health, and the mashed potatoes topping it were functionally appropriate for creating a timbale form and deliciously filling.

For another, while I might have expected a more modern approach from the restaurant's precursor, a nouvelle Mexican pioneer called La Palma Grill, that's just not the vibe at Maison Carlos. Instead, the restaurant proudly proclaims that it features Continental cuisine -- about two-thirds Italian and one-third French.

Indeed, Maison Carlos, owned by husband-wife team Carlos and Lanie Farias, is in some ways about European formalities; it provides the kind of stylized dining that has been a long time coming to this culinary row, where upscale eateries have been rare. Maitre d' Carlos Farias hails from the revered Renato's in Palm Beach, and his executive chef, Robert Dedrick, calls the equally respected Nando's in Palm Beach his former maison. As a result of their joint experience and what obviously is a shared passion for exacting standards, the dining experience at Maison Carlos is less about following current trends than about firming up its footing with quality fare and genteel service.

The service, depending upon the number of parties dining and the amount of waiters working, can be as slow as a tugboat hauling a cruise ship. We were seated for at least 30 minutes before our appetizer order was even taken, and aside from a busboy or two, our server seemed to be the only one working the room. In the beginning, he was so distracted that he greeted us and told us the specials twice, though we chose not to correct him because the dishes sounded good enough to bear repeating. But he was unfailingly polite and impeccably mannered, with a no-questions-asked policy that was a relief from waiters who query patrons' judgments. He even took back an "off" bottle of wine without an argument.

The attractive trappings of the long, narrow dining room sum up the contained joie de vivre here nearly perfectly. Under a two-story ceiling, extra-large banquettes along one wall are juxtaposed by a bar along the other. Tables are shaded by canvas umbrellas that give diners the impression of dining on a patio somewhere in southern Europe, an outdoorsy feel that is helped along by a cool tile floor, clean white columns, and vivid potted greenery.
Which is not to imply that the fare at Maison Carlos is staid or boring. Little touches enliven familiar appetizers; for instance, the tender fried calamari is served with a vibrant aioli that includes pungent black olives. In addition, a daily list of specials offers some intriguing options: We gleaned an impeccably prepared beet carpaccio, shaved red and golden beets dotted with goat cheese and arugula tossed in a lemon vinaigrette, and a sumptuous dish of tagliatelle stirred with a woodsy sauce of wild mushrooms and succulent prawns.

For the most part, however, the bill of fare is classic. Meals begin with complimentary bruschetta and a basket of warm bread, and patrons may choose to continue that hominess with a starter of French onion soup. Tasting like slow-simmered stock rather than instant bouillon and tightly packed with mildly seasoned caramelized onions, the soup was an excellent version rarely found in South Florida.

Oddly, though, the menu describes some appetizers and main courses in French (homard lanie; filet de boeuf), others in Italian (zuppa del giorno; scaloppini di vitello alla pozzaiola) and the remainder in English (spaghetti with jumbo lump crab meat; grilled French-cut chicken breast). Why huitres au Rockefeller is referred to as such instead of plain ol' oysters Rockefeller is inexplicable; yes, its inventor was Bernard Guste, chef at Antoine's in New Orleans, but the dish was named for the original entrepreneur, American John D. Rockefeller (because it's so rich). Plus, Maison Carlos' version adds bacon and Hollandaise sauce to the oyster stuffing, two ingredients that Guste didn't use. A fine point, perhaps. In the end, use whatever language you want. These plump oysters were still delicious, densely packed with creamy chopped spinach (folks also argue over whether the original version contained spinach, green onions, or watercress), though they could have gained some necessary heat from a few more minutes under the broiler.

On the other hand, some dishes benefited from conservative cooking times. A main course of coquille St. Jacques à la Dijon was simply outstanding, with a half-dozen toothsome sea scallops so wonderfully supple and satiating that I couldn't finish them. This is another of those recipes that lends itself to interpretation. I've seen coquille St. Jacques prepared in a variety of ways ranging from a potato-based casserole to a cream-laden gratinée. But I'd have to say that Chef Dedrick's version is among the best. Wisely, he allows the enormous sea scallops to shine, sautéing them briefly and moistening them with a light, buttery mustard sauce.

Dedrick also shows a professionally restrained hand with steak au poivre, allowing just the right amount of green peppercorns to rev up a mustard-brandy demi-glace. The sirloin, a 14-ounce New York strip, was crusted with black peppercorns but not so many that you could taste only spice instead of beef. Masterful. In fact, the only dish we felt fell short all evening was probably not the head chef's fault. Medallions of veal Marsala had actually been pounded too thinly, resulting in a loss of both moisture and texture, but prepping scallops of meat usually falls to a kitchen underling.
Besides, it's easy to forgive anything when a crock of crème brûlée, lidded with a pane of caramelized sugar, is available to finish off a class act of a meal in an equally traditional manner. The maison might belong to Carlos, but his domicile is a welcome haven for the culinary homeless, myself included, who used to wander around Clematis."

By John Tanasychuk
Published: November 7, 2003

"For a few hours last Saturday night, Clematis Street didn't feel like the old Clematis Street.

We parked our car and saw the marquee at the Cuillo Centre where Kate Mulgrew is starring in Tea at Five. A well-dressed crowd was mulling about for the preview. Next door is Maison Carlos, a sophisticated and ambitious restaurant on a street known more for dance floors and bar food.

Inside, the piano player and the team of white-shirted waiters lend Maison Carlos a level of civility more commonly found across the bridge in Palm Beach. Owners Carlos and Lanie Farias and their staff, who opened in January , have plenty of Palm Beach pedigree. And in many ways, this is Palm Beach food -- fancy by standards set when Americans first became enamored with the classic cuisine of France and Italy.

As we perused menus, a plate of delicious crispy-fried zucchini slices were offered and I started to believe it could be a superb meal.

Oysters Rockefeller ($11.50) are a wonderful step back in time. If you want to eat the classic, chef Robert Dedrick nails it with just enough spinach and bacon and Hollandaise to make the oysters roll down. Fried calamari ($11.50) is delicate and crispy.

The Vichyssoise ($6) is near perfect, updated to the point that it's not so rich to be cloying. Same goes for onion soup ($6.50), so often weighed down with excessive amounts of cheese. Here, the cheese complements instead of overpowering an earthy broth. The Caesar salad ($7.95) is dressed perfectly, each crunchy cool leaf of romaine lightly coated in a dressing with hints of anchovy and lemon.

Our servers were young but with enough experience to know what kind of service the customers at Maison Carlos expect: professional, hands-off and friendly to a point.

One wall of the restaurant is lined with big comfortable banquettes. The walls are decorated with the paintings of Robert Stark, the father of owner Lanie Farias. They're all for sale.

Maison Carlos' pasta menu makes it possible to eat here for around $20. Penne alla Bolognese ($16.50) is a winner, but there's also spaghetti with crab meat ($19.95) and linguini with clams ($17.50).

Only one dish on the entree menu was disappointing. While steak au poivre ($25.95) was excellent, the twin petite filets topped with artichokes and bearnaise sauce tasted like the beef had been brined -- or worse, frozen -- prior to cooking. I opened the door to an explanation, but our waiter offered none. When the plate was cleared with one filet clearly not touched, our waiter didn't ask why.

Perhaps he was concentrating on the fact that the diner who ordered rack of lamb ($26.95) served with a pinot noir demi glace had cleaned his plate. So had the recipient of Coquille Saint-Jacques a la Dijon ($23.95), in which several meaty sea scallops float in a sauce made with wine, mushrooms and mustard.

Maison Carlos seems to know that you need to start and end a meal with a good impression. We started with those crisp slices of zucchini and we ended with Key lime meringue pie ($7.50), which is made daily by owner Lanie Farias. They also serve excellent tiramisu ($7) and chocolate cake ($7).

The owners and the chef are all still in their 30s. Perhaps it's their age that brings a kind of friendliness to what could have been just another formal Palm Beach restaurant. Even the wine list is friendly and approachable.

So if you had given up on finding fine dining on Clematis Street, welcome Maison Carlos. There's still plenty of the old Clematis nearby. On our way back to the car, we saw that one bar was hosting a g-string contest."