One of three restaurants at the historic 19th century brewery, Alois is housed in the “Central Hotel” that German immigrant Alois Bube built during his successful stint as a brewmaster in Lancaster County’s Little Munich. A warm welcome graced our arrival into the entranceway of Alois, where an open staircase and a burst of flowers gave way to old-fashioned charm from a more gracious time. We were led to the highly adorned parlor where aperitifs flowed and a trio of hors d’oeuvres — smooth salmon mousse with baguette slices, weightless and flaky mushroom brie tartlets and homemade pita wedges with slightly sweet eggplant capanata — delivered the perfect prelude to a delightful meal. Converse on a comfy detailed upholstered love seat or have your tête-à-tête while seated on a teetering antique side chair at a round table graced with a crocheted tablecloth and a mini oil lamp. A chandelier of spot-lit silver discs (echoing what could have been a disco ball of yesteryear) sits high above a vividly painted bar that, only upon close inspection shows signs of having seen slightly more than one scuffle in its day. Dark vertical paneling gives way to rich, deep, patterned wallpaper, serving to enhance the importance of this room.

After hors d’oeuvres, guests are led to one of three distinctively cozy yet whimsical dining rooms where artist and chef Ophelia Horn will invariably enchant you from the kitchen for the remainder of the evening. Parties of two sit at perfectly situated tables under a painted ceiling depicting a green-striped awning (complete with fringes and all) while in another room, slightly larger parties dine in a bath of peacock feathers and still life paintings. New age, classical and jazz music adds to the tranquility of the opulent rooms. One long tapestry draped a glass topped table that could serve four to eight in a third dining room which dons a light burlap wall covering stenciled with dragonflies and grapevines. This grapevine motif is carried through into the chandelier and a three-dimensional doorway wrap. Heavy gold mirrors border the entire room pulling it together in a rococo fashion. One friendly and jovial waiter (sporting a handlebar mustache) pops into the intimate spaces on timely intervals which adds a human element to this unconventional fantasy world.

Delicious homemade bread varieties of caraway and raisin-carrot arrived at the table graced with piped butter and grape clusters closely followed by an adjoining and simply stated “meat course.” The room-temperature slices of medium-rare beef tenderloin were served with a mustard sauce that carried a zing and glazed pork tenderloin with ginger soy sauce on the side. The platter was for all to share, simply garnished with red lettuce and flowering yarrow. In direct contrast to the decor, none of the courses bordered on-the-edge, were elaborately described, excessively presented, or over satiating.

Preferring a mild vinaigrette with standalone baby greens, the dinner salad shared the plate with baby broccoli florets, latticed sliced carrots, small quartered tomatoes, and black olives, all topped with a creamy Dijon dressing, making this mesclun mix a bit too heavy. A lightly dressed mushroom salad where baby carrots, red and green peppers and red onion blended simply with quartered white button mushrooms arrived next. Then, the soup course happened to be an amiable oregano-enhanced cauliflower soup, carrying small chunks of tomato and tiny cauliflower florets, definitely having a whiff of Italy about it.

Even an all-too-common main course of shrimp scampi suddenly seemed alive as spicy coriander perfumed the plump and firm jumbo shrimp co-mingled with artichokes, forming an irresistible preparation. Chicken tenderloins were alternatives for those not wanting shellfish. All was not over when what arrived around the corner but a mini four-cheese crab pizza, again to share. Thinking we couldn’t do it, we polished off this delightful thin-crusted, basil-accented pie topped with parmesan, white cheddar, sweet ricotta, and provolone.

It’s Ophelia’s chance to take a break when it’s time for dessert, as three times a week a local pastry chef comes in and takes on this course with enticing finales such as sour cream pie with savory strudel, German chocolate cheesecake, Mexican custard caramel flan, four-layer raspberry Chambord black mango cake, and (the standout favorite) yellow cake with Kahlúa and English toffee. Finalizing the whole uninhibited pleasure was a huge coffee house-sized cup of the deep brew.

Location:
Easy to Find

Parking:
Self-Serve/Lot

Handicapped Access:
Call Ahead

Exterior Appearance:
Victorian Hotel

Initial Interior:
Inviting Small Lobby

Reservations Necessary:
Requested

Preferred Dining Attire:
Stylish-Casual

Wait (to be seated):
None

Wait (for service):
None

Lighting:
Subtle

Dining Area Appearance
Victorian Eclectic

Noise:
Tranquil

Climate:
Nice

Tables:
Ample

Chairs:
Comfortable

Booths:
None

Table Setting:
Full

Your Meal:
Superb

Automatically Served:
Hors d’oeuvres, bread

Soups:
Italian Cauliflower

Cocktails:
Good Selection; Pricey Specialty Beer

Main Course:
Shrimp Scampi w/ Artichokes

Desserts:
Kahlua and English Toffee Cake

Coffees:
Hugh and Excellent

Staff Attitude:
Congenial

Staff Appearance:
Victorian Style

Hospitality:
Welcoming

Cleanliness:
Very Clean

Wash Rooms:
Very Clean

Crowd (Qty):
Some Empty Tables

Crowd (Attitude):
Casual/Laughter

Food (portions):
Appropriate Notch

Food (prices):
N/A

Overall Service:
Attentive