A mirrored wall flanks an old stone fireplace at one end of the room. A rough-hewn room divider contributes mightily to the mountain decor.
Bare, hardwood tables are set with green paper placemats, white paper napkins, green picnic candles, bouquets of white carnations and baby's breath and vinyl-covered hotel chairs studded with nail heads.
The menu, a throwback to the days before culinary concerns assumed their present significance, offers familiar standbys, prepared simply but with some accomplishment.
Clams casino ($4.75), for instance, were a half-dozen cherrystones, literally sizzling beneath a tasty heap of rough-chopped green and red bell peppers, sweet onions and bacon. Baked French onion soup ($2.75), crowded with sauteed onions and bread and capped with a thick, golden layer of mozzarella, was pleasantly sparked with a hint of sage.
Homemade vegetable soup included with dinner was thin, bland broth chockablock with overcooked carrots, celery, tomatoes, corn, peas, cabbage, lima beans and potatoes. A loaf of slightly warmed bread sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds came with frozen, foil-wrapped butter pats.
Iceberg lettuce with a tomato wedge and a solitary slice of cucumber in ordinary blue-cheese dressing was nicely served on a clear-glass plate.
The main courses varied from excellent to ho-hum. The excellent dish was an enormous slab of flavorful prime rib ($16.95), beautifully rare as ordered and simmering in its own juices. However, it came with a small, overcooked, foil- wrapped baked potato and limp, flavorless green beans.
