Harlow Grove is one of those restaurants that fancies itself a concept — a lifestyle. You only need see “Whispering Angel rosé” peeking from its menu to grasp the lifestyle on offer, a slice of suburban glam fantasia populated by pretty people and wallpapered with panache. Unfortunately, you can’t eat the vibe. Located a short stroll from Plant Street in Winter Garden, Harlow Grove is the brainchild of Fort Lauderdale-based brand factory Knallhart Management Group, which also operates the nearby AJ’s Pizza Joint, Harrell’s, and The Whole Enchilada. So long, mom and pop — Winter Gardeners are now spending credits at the company store.
Despite local discontent with the economics spawning places like Harlow Grove (see: the recent disappearance of long-lived WG favorites), the restaurant is popular, and weekend tables are hard to come by. I get it. The two-story space is British Colonial meets postmodern gorgeous: a lively lounge and intimate mezzanine, an elevated terrace loved on by a neighboring live oak, an army of sharply uniformed staff. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. But gorgeous like a stage set. Like it shouldn’t be located on Main Street, but streaming on Netflix. Like an eerily frozen-faced Nicole Kidman might sidle up to you at the bar and whisper unpalatable secrets in your ear.
Those secrets are revealed in the bill of fare — American in the most mundane of ways. Think room-service fusion. Think Thai noodle salad next to Caesar, demi-glace next to coconut curry, chicken tenders and filet mignon. The wine list reads like a hospitality rider for Real Housewives: Santa Margherita pinot grigio, throwback fatties like ZD, obligatory Dom for the dumb-money set.
All of this is OK when done right. I’ll drink a glass of ZD with a crab cake — especially the crab cake ($24) at Harlow, our best bite of the night. Beautifully crisped, fat with clean crab, it was served atop a creamed corn that played the sweetest of second fiddles. It was an auspicious start brought to a halt by the arrival of gritty, suspect PEI mussels ($20) swimming in excessively lemony broth. Likewise, potato bisque ($10) disappointed, its tater base solely a vehicle for pungent, one-dimensional truffle with a texture approaching gloopy…