Can it really be 17 years since The Federal opened, wowing the culinerati and putting Agawam on the dining map? Time flies when you’re dining well! And you will dine extraordinarily well here.
To me, The Federal is the waft of truffles that billows from the front door and entices the arriving guest. No visit is complete without the restaurant’s signature appetizer, cheesy risotto balls deep-fried, coated in truffle butter, and presented in a hammered-steel cup atop creamy whipped potatoes. It’s a fitting introduction to an evening of French and Italian-accented American cooking that sparkles with inventiveness.
The main problem with chef Michael Presnal’s menu is the prevalence of dishes you love so much, you can hardly bring yourself to order anything else. This dilemma is encapsulated in what I think of as “that damn lobster pizza.” It garnishes large chunks of lobster meat with charred asparagus, guanciale, arugula, shaved Fontina, and an aromatic dose of truffle oil. Another ambrosial pizza combines figs with prosciutto and gorgonzola. Made on thin, blackened flatbread, these pizzas look delicate, but pack a big flavor punch. How can I get something different when that damn lobster pizza is there?
Presnal is a chef who likes having fun, and his menu is littered with coy quotation marks, signaling foods that playfully masquerade as other foods. A beet “risotto,” for instance, begins with red beets roasted and shredded to resemble rice, then is fortified with pancetta-enriched butter, candied walnuts, and a roquefort-crusted goat cheese. A chopped salad whose plentiful ingredients include chickpeas, tomatoes, olives, peppers, and feta is lavished with a creamy avocado mousse, and sports the ornament of a bacon “beignet” — a piece of bacon dunked in tempura batter and deep-fried.
This kind of coyness could be precious, but it isn’t; it’s too delicious to be precious. And you do get what you ordered. A short-rib “grilled cheese” entree does provide a sandwich — creamy Cambozola and butter-drenched slices of grilled sourdough, served on a rectangular plate whose compartments, TV-dinner style, separate the dish’s other elements: hunks of charred onion; a sunnyside-up fried egg; arugula; a cup of tomato bisque. Oh, and the short rib, in an intense red-wine demi-glaze, which you can either eat separately or (as I did) insinuate tender chunks between the cheese-laden slices of bread.
These descriptions trace a second theme in Presnal’s cooking: richness. “I like rich food,” the chef confesses, and his training in classical French cuisine draws on a cornucopia of culinary luxuries — veal and beef, truffles, foie gras, wine, butter, confit, cream. It’s fortunate, given such opulence, that he has such a light touch. And a witty one. One salad offered an impressive heap of matchstick-shaped julienned zucchini, served warm, with sliced toasted almonds, olive oil, and giant wafers of pecorino propped atop it like a cheese teepee.
Some dishes are so novel, their arrival triggers a momentary bafflement (“What did I order, again?”). The Federal’s version of onion soup features ravioli and strands of short rib bathed in brown broth. Where’s the Gruyere? Inside the ravioli! A peppery, buttery, supremely thick clam chowder contained a whole piece of bacon and slices of baby potato, with a fried clam and skewer of tater tots floating on top. Spoon, or fork?
Main courses are served in gleaming white bowls whose sometimes irregular shapes, like the food they hold, combine classic elegance with contemporary verve. You should expect the unexpected — like the European-style white asparagus and ricotta gnocchi, infused with morselized spinach, accompanying an entree of seared cod.
Scallops in another entree were laid among roasted baby carrots, slices of avocado and large chunks of pork belly that are brined overnight, given a harissa-orange glaze, and roasted low and slow, the caramelization producing a candied quality; a bright green cilantro chimichurri completes the arrangement.
Sometimes in these entrees, the supporting players vie for attention with the star — like the hash of sweet peas, crab meat, and baby artichokes, soaked in a warm pancetta vinaigrette, that accompanied a pan-seared salmon fillet. Repeatedly Presnal takes traditional preparations and gives them a sideways turn.
Vitello tonnato, the classic Italian summer dish, typically uses veal roast or veal shoulder and is served at room temperature. The Federal’s version offers a large veal chop, bone-in, prepared Milanese style (egg, bread crumbs), then laid atop arugula with an underlying tuna aioli, and garnished with green beans, strips of pickled fennel, and kalamata olives — with the capers, typically included in the tuna sauce, displaced into a citrus vinaigrette.
While these presentations are artful, they never lose track of the fundamental imperative of taste. And the portions are by no means skimpy. An entree of pork tenderloin seemed to be an entire loin — two colossal cylinders of roast pork, with a port-wine reduction, sweet-potato polenta, and the fragrant garnish of an orange gremolata.
Desserts included a limoncello semifreddo — a sort of frozen mousse — beautifully arranged with blackberries, strawberries, and a deep-purple berry sorbet nestled in a tuile-like crisp cookie cup. As for the coconut bread pudding, a friend guarded it so tenaciously, I wasn’t able to get a bite. A portion of pink cotton candy, brought in a conical holder, added a nostalgic touch and evoked the amusement park up the road.
How do you keep a restaurant going for so long at such a high level? “I don’t want anyone to get bored,” says Presnal, “including me.” And so the menu at The Federal changes frequently; instead of resting on its laurels, the kitchen finds something new to do.
But quality is a constant. Dish after dish bears the hallmarks of Presnal’s style: complex ingredients, deftly harmonized, that put an abundance of things on the plate and tastes in your mouth. Some chefs lose by adding, and end up with needless complexity and showiness. Not here.
As for cost, you can spend a chunk of money — worth every penny, in my opinion — but the frugal can thrive, too. Get one lobster pizza and one other pizza, split a zucchini salad, add a glass of wine each, and you’ll be out for around $70 total – including tip. You’ll probably bring a few slices home, too.
A restaurant of this caliber exists in Agawam because Presnal, after a long stint in eateries on Martha’s Vineyard, decided to return to his hometown and partner up with his old pal (and brother-in-law), Ralph Santaniello. A sister restaurant, Vinted, opened in West Hartford in 2013, and Posto, a family-oriented Italian, will debut soon in Longmeadow.
But if I were you, I’d head for the mother ship, to experience lavish and innovative cooking that is the ne plus ultra of fine dining in southern New England. Agawam is closer to Hartford than you might think, and The Federal deserves to be a major destination. Don’t wait until you’re going to Six Flags. This is food as thrilling as any ride.
135 Cooper St., Agawam, Mass. * 413-789-1267 * thefederalrestaurant.com * 5 stars
THE SKINNY
THE SPACE: Several stylish rooms on the ground floor of a former private dining club in a stately Greek Revival mansion dating to the 19th century. The elegant main room, with seating for 80, boasts white linen, billowing curtains and a restrained palette of whites and blacks. A back room holds another 60 seats in a more casual space, with dark-blue wallpaper effecting a vaguely nautical look. Private dining also available.
THE CROWD: Fine-dining aficionados served by black-vested, white-aproned waiters who offer a high level of knowledgeable, precise and quietly confident service. Kids, while welcome, are rarely present.
THE BAR: A cozy and convivial room at the front of the restaurant, with seating for a dozen at the bar and 20 more at tables. Massachusetts law forbids happy-hour drink specials, but a creative cocktail list includes such exotica as El Cubano, cinnamon tea infused with premium Absolut Elyx, lemon, mint and Prosecco. The bar offers complimentary hors d’oeuvres on Thursday and Friday from 5 to 6 p.m. The well-selected California-France-Italy wine list includes a dozen wines by the glass, from $8.50 to $14, and 125 bottles, from $29 to $450.
THE BILL: Starters, $8.95 to $15.95; pizzas and burgers, $13.95 to $18.95; entrees, $22.95 to $33.95; desserts $8.95 to $10.95. Eight-course tasting menu, $72.95.
WHAT WE LIKED: Every last thing; the lobster pizza is a requirement.
NOISE LEVEL: Civilized, even when crowded; the back room, when full, can be louder.
IF YOU GO: Dinner, Monday through Wednesday, 5 to 8:30 p.m.; Thursday, 5 to 9 p.m.; Friday, 5 to 10 p.m.; Saturday, 4:30 to 10 p.m.; Sunday, 4 to 8 p.m. Reservations strongly recommended. Wheelchair access through front door. Free parking in lot.
