No Reservations: The Old Mill on the Falls Bread and Breakfast
The OLD MILL ON THE FALLS, at 87 School St. in Hatfield (www.oldmillbnb.net), has been many things in its history. Built on the ruins of a mill destroyed by fire in the 19th century, the new “old mill” has housed a gun maker, a spark-plug manufacturer, a grist mill and the Valley Advocate. Empty for 10 years after the Advocate left, the building was bought by Tony Martino in 2005. Together, he and manager Ted Jarrett turned the large open space inside into a nine-bedroom B-and-B with a kitchen and dining space for banquets. About three months ago, they began offering dinners on Friday and Saturday nights.
Getting there is a pleasant drive. Coming from Amherst, we head over the Sunderland bridge and down River Road to School Street, which twists and turns, with other streets joining it at odd angles. However, unlike just about everywhere else in Massachusetts, each intersection is marked, making School Street easy to follow. In the winter and in the dark, it is hard to get a sense of the place, which is a boxy yellow Colonial-style building. The landscaping — including a fountain — is buried under snow and the sound of a river behind the mill is muted. But even though I’m local, it feels like a country getaway as we pull into the driveway.
Martino does all the cooking. He went to culinary school in Italy, and has cooked locally in the now defunct Daniele’s in Westfield and most recently at his lunch place in Springfield, the Fantastico Cafe in Tower Square. So it is no surprise that the food at the Old Mill has an Italian accent. The menu, which changes weekly and is available online, features a four-course prix fixe selection: antipasti; insalate or soup; assaggio (a pasta dish); and a main course. The price is surprising, with beef, veal and seafood entrees $21.95, and chicken, pork and vegetarian choices $19.95. Dessert — made in-house — is another $4.50. As my wife observed, it’s hard to run up a big bill here.
The restaurant is BYOB and there are no plans to acquire a liquor license. Jarrett said that the cost is the reason: “The license is $250. The liability insurance is astronomical.” The BYOB policy might well please the wine crowd. I recently talked with a wine aficionado who complained that most restaurant writers omit anything but a cursory mention of the wine list. (Guilty as charged, Michael.) At the Old Mill, you can check the menu in advance online, then bring something from your own cellar. And there is no corkage fee.
The dining room is pleasant, with the kind of decor that appeals to my wife: warm, Victorian, filled with an eclectic assortment of paintings. There is a gas log in the fireplace, cloth tablecloths, tiny ceramic salt and pepper shakers on each table, and enough wood and overhead pipes to evoke a much older space. It’s hard to believe that the room and everything in it was put in when Martino and Jarrett took over.
The antipasti appear as soon as you are seated. The selection changes weekly, but during our visit it featured two slices of Bruschetta Arrabiata (grape tomatoes sauteed with onions, capers, kalamata olives and chunks of Parmesan cheese), two slices of bruschetta with pesto and a provolone cheese melted on top, and two stuffed mushrooms. The arrabiata is not spicy-hot, as the name might suggest, but it is warm and tasty. The bread is sliced thinly and toasted, but not so much that it becomes a crunchy cracker. Our salads — one consisting of greens with balsamic vinaigrette, the other a Caesar with romaine lettuce and croutons (no anchovies) — are fine, with the house balsamic another nice homemade touch.
The pasta course is a plate of ziti with our choice of three sauces: boscaiol (tomato sauce with prosciutto and onion), marinara with a distinct oregano flavor, and aglio e olio, an olive oil-parmesan. The ziti is perfectly cooked, al dente without being crunchy or mushy. The portion is nicely sized, about half of what you’d get if it were an entree.
For dinner, we choose Veal Antonio, veal dipped in an egg and flour wash, then sauteed and served with sun-dried tomatoes and scallions, and Tilapia Mediterrania, pan-fried tilapia with seafood stuffing and a house-made tartar sauce. Two thick asparagus spears and some pan-roasted potatoes accompany each dish. Both entrees are nicely done. The food is not heavily spiced, but that doesn’t mean that it’s bland. To the contrary: It uses the flavor of the ingredients rather than salt, herbs and sauces. I am reminded of a recent meal in a much pricier venue where almost every dish was oversalted or overly herbed.
Midway through our entrees, my wife turns to me and says, “This place is a bit of a surprise.” She’s right. The room has the muted bustle and murmur of conversation that marks contented diners. At the table to our right, a foursome is mixing Cosmopolitans, having brought everything, including glasses; the Old Mill supplied the ice.
For dessert, there are profiteroles (cream puffs drizzled with chocolate sauce and filled with ice cream), a creamy cheesecake with strawberry sauce and a first-rate apple pie with two scoops of vanilla ice cream. We order coffee, and the half-and-half arrives in an antique-style china pitcher.
Dinner is served from 5 to 9 on Fridays and Saturdays. Jarrett told me that reservations are recommended; every table had been filled on the previous three Saturdays, in fact. When the weather improves, he added, the Old Mill plans to offer Saturday lunches.
I’ll likely take them up on that. It would be nice to come back in the warmer months, sit on the patio, and enjoy not just the food, but the Old Mill’s other features, like its English garden and koi pond –and the feeling of finding a surprise on the back roads of Hatfield.
Originally published in the Daily Hampshire Gazette, February 01, 2008