Yellowtail snapper crudo served during ms Noordam's reproduction of New York landmark Le Cirque. Credit: Jon Palmer Claridge

Editor's note: CL food critic Jon Palmer Claridge is in Alaska doing "research." This is part of an ongoing series sharing his culinary adventures.

What makes a great restaurant? It begins with attention to detail. There's a certain elegance reflected by fine china, crisp linens, sterling flatware and crystal stemware that announces a level of care, which heightens anticipation that a magical dance in your mouth may soon be coming.

These last three postcards recounting my sojourn to the Pacific northwest will each explore a hyped meal where expectations are high: a New York landmark recreated at sea and iconic gourmet haunts in Anchorage and Seattle.

We begin on the ms Noordam with Holland America's noble effort to recreate restaurant ringmaster Sirio Maccioni's Le Cirque, one of the great New York restaurants in the last quarter of the 20th century and a popular haunt for the likes of Sophia Loren, Henry Kissinger and the King of Spain. I urge you to Google "Ruth Reichl & Le Cirque" for a classic story in restaurant lore from Reichl's days as the New York Times food critic. It's too complicated for a Postcard, but well worth the effort — as is transforming Noordam's upscale intimate Pinnacle Grill with whimsical Le Cirque china.

The ms Noordam’s Pinnacle Grill set for Le Cirque. Credit: Jon Palmer Claridge

Mischievous monkeys that could be drawn by Dr. Seuss crawl from under the rim to snatch what look like red currants from the center of your plate. The linens are crisp, the sparkling stemware bears the iconic "Reidel' logo, and all seems right with the world.

An amuse bouche of Le Cirque red rhubarb gelee is topped with piped foie gras mousse. The fact that the bright gelee matches the deep red-orange color of Le Cirque's script logo is a nice touch. And the sweet gelee is a perfect counterpoint to the foie.

Sadly, the bread service and matching wines are not up to par. Wine service in general on this cruise is underwhelming. The beverage package that allows up to 15 cocktails a day(!), offers only mediocre wine. I suppose that's to sell bottles of over-priced premium wines by the glass. We skip the pairings, which are a bargain if you don't care about the match, something that most certainly would not happen a Le Cirque. Why offer a credible, gourmet five-course tasting menu and accompany it with swill? Also, the grape varietals offered are not good matches for the menu. Better to teach the diners by offering premium pairs, even if the price point is higher. Perhaps it's just not practical for a one-off event at sea. As we shall soon see in Seattle, a sommelier pairing alone may often approach the cost of the food.

Meanwhile, our first courses are spot on. Yellowtail snapper crudo with broad beans is beautifully plated with edible flowers and served with a pea mojito prepared in a cocktail shaker tableside, then poured by your server with an exciting flourish. The lobster salad with haricots verts is also carefully plated with grapefruit segments, a slice of avocado and dots of creamy brandy-tinged sauce. Both dishes offer an exciting melange of flavors.

The garden pea soup is poured at the table over garnishes of cheese dumplings (think soft gnocchi) and an Idiazabal cheese crisp. Though the flavor is pronounced, its texture lacks the velvety seduction that an extra pass through an ultrafine chinois would assure. The chilled yogurt and melon soup is a complex affair dotted with herbs, flavored oil, peppers and bite-size shrimp.

The entrees are less fussy. Sea bass with peaches, capers, bourbon vanilla and chicken oysters fails to excite. But two thick rare slices of melt-in-your-mouth tender chateaubriand pair nicely with a tiny, mild-yet-creamy horseradish flan and two piles of roasted sweet-and-sour, red-and-yellow baby beets. There's a small pitcher of unnamed brandy demi-glacé, too. The plating is pedestrian; so while the meats dazzles, there's an unwelcome disconnect.

Great flavors with plain presentations come from the desserts as well. The chocolate soufflé is simple perfection with a side of vanilla gelato, and another sweet, merely called "pineapple," is a luscious tumbler of fresh cubes, pineapple gelee, and divine Malibu rum-bourbon vanilla cream mousse with a dried, sliced pineapple garnish.

As is true at most fine-dining establishments, we finish with a selection of diminutive sweet mignardises that's quite lovely. On a sterling pedestal there's candied apple, a Proustian madeleine, cello-wrapped nut nougat, candid orange peel half dipped in dark chocolate, apricot gelee, and a Lilliputian lemon macaron.

All told, the meal is a nice treat on the cruises' formal dress up night. It's impressive for a kitchen that's at sea, but not as mind-blowing (or expensive) as what awaits us in Anchorage and Seattle, where we'll go from exquisite to profound.

Jon Palmer Claridge—Tampa Bay's longest running, and perhaps last anonymous, food critic—has spent his life following two enduring passions, theatre and fine dining. He trained as a theatre professional...