As soon as it debuted this January on the southern end of Park Avenue, The Chapman filled up with a mostly stylish crowd alongside some shorts-and-T-shirters. The setting is snazzy, as it was at Luma on Park, the last trend-forward, see-and-be-seen restaurant to shake up Park Avenue. And the food is American, but pumped up to be bigger, prettier and tastier than you’d expect.
The service is elevated, too, in a friendly sort of way. The team has that stylish “it factor,” yet instead of exuding snooty attitudes the welcoming waitstaffers gush attention. On my second visit, one even brought an industrial-size jar of a house seasoning blend to the table to help me identify an elusive flavor in the chopped salad.
It’s all by design. The Chapman—whose sister eateries along Park Avenue are mainstays Boca and Atlantic Beer & Oyster—is owned by multiconcept Artistry Restaurants. But because we’re just that special, the company conceived and created The Chapman specifically for Winter Park. (Oak & Stone, a pizza and beer concept, is enroute later this year in the space vacated by 310 Park South.)
The Chapman, in a colossal 6,700-square-foot space, embraces the city’s storied founding by well-to-do New Englanders in the 1880s. Restored historic photos line some walls, and the restaurant, bar and private dining room are named, respectively, for Winter Park pioneers Oliver Chapman, Loring Chase, and Gus Henderson. (These names should be well-known to any reader of Winter Park Magazine.)
The menu was created by Clifford Pleau, the parent company’s chef innovation officer. Pleau is a Culinary Institute of America graduate who became the opening-day chef of Disney’s California Grill in 1994 and subsequently spent 12 years creating concepts for Darden—most notably Seasons 52. “For The Chapman, I reached into my bag of tricks and pulled out stuff I’ve really loved during my career,” he says. “I’d call it my greatest hits, unplugged.”
About three years ago, Artistry was invited by the Holler family, which owns the building, to create a restaurant in the cavernous space at 500 South Park Avenue. A soft opening with dinner service began in January, with lunch, brunch and dinner menus introduced in February. Pleau joined the team a scant six weeks before opening day—all of which is lightning speed for implementing a new upscale concept from scratch.
The recipe portfolio wasn’t as rushed as it sounds, though, especially for a pro like Pleau. He reimaged California Grill’s original focaccia starter, for example, as a lighter bread made in-house every morning, loaded with fresh herbs and paired with an ethereal salted citrus butter. Did I mention the fennel-infused extra-virgin olive oil? Invisible, effective enhancements.
The “Three Bs” were behind all those dishes, which means, according to Pleau, bigger (more flavor than you might have expected); brighter (more color with such elements as green kale or roasted red peppers); and bolder (with portions that weren’t, as Pleau described them, “small or fussy or cute”).
I’d say it works. I’ve now had three good dinners at The Chapman, each with enjoyable cocktails or wine and equally enjoyable people-watching. Dinner here is noteworthy and feels like a big-city evening out. (So come on, shorts and T-shirters, why not dress for the occasion?)
Guests settle into large booths, banquettes or regular four-top tables and walk along terrazzo floors that are original to the 90-year-old space (a nice touch for the historically inclined). Or they enjoy the outdoor scene along two rows of outdoor seating made possible by moving the exterior wall six inches in to create a wider sidewalk. There’s also a permanent hard ceiling to keep rain away.
Seductive chain-link drapes hang throughout the interior’s middle section, offering separation between the dining room and lounge. “If you’re drinking, you’re not standing next to a husband, wife and two kids. And if you’re dining, you don’t have to look at the rear ends of people three-deep around the bar,” notes Barry Goff, the parent company’s managing partner.
The food is a treat, for sure, with way more hits than misses. This is a “100 percent made-from-scratch kitchen,” Pleau notes, and it shows. The pappardelle pasta with roasted local mushrooms couldn’t have been better. Same for the T-bone steak, which had a dash of horseradish aioli on the potatoes served alongside. I’d counted on leftovers, yet a co-diner and I polished off every bite of the 18-ounce cut of meat.
There’s so much more to croon about. The crab cake: all crab, with an ancho-chili remoulade. The citrus, feta and ricotta whip: swipeable with a heap of herb-laced al dente carrots with pistachios and hot honey. The lobster-fontina flatbread: loaded and lovely. No one seems to go wild for the shrimp and tomato bucatini, but that hamburger? Surely one of the best in Central Florida. (I’d suggest sharing a plate of charred broccolini with anything you order).
Even the simple roast chicken entrée is made with extraordinary finesse. After the Joyce Farms poultry is brined and roasted whole, the chefs pull out all the bones, portion the chicken, re-roast it with mustard butter then pour on a protein-rich broth made from those bones.
“There’s more science to it than anyone needs to know, but guests can taste the difference and appreciate it,” says Pleau. “I want to make food either you can’t, won’t or don’t make at home.” That includes such plating tricks as serving salad in a glass cylinder or Wagyu steak sliced on a board.
If you want a little spicy pop while visiting, begin with the bang-bang lion’s mane. The heated finger food is filled with meaty mushroom instead of the standard shrimp and given a boost with Ssamjang chili oil. Sometimes, though, the kitchen gets a little too creative for my taste and adds a strong flavor that grows tiresome after a few bites. That’s true of the bronzed Florida fish with kale, which taps into Pleau’s passion for healthful, locally sourced food. I was beyond thrilled, however, to have a choice free of butter and cream encompassing healthy leafy greens served with a virtuous blend of hominy and riced cauliflower.
But these little nods toward healthfulness don’t mean you can’t indulge freely at The Chapman. Whatever your indulgence of choice, it won’t be ultra-processed. See bacon on your plate? Pleau knows the farmer, and those slabs are as wholesome as bacon gets.
There are just a few desserts, but they’re curated. The flourless chocolate cake is so rich that I had it a second time. The butterscotch crème brûlée boasts the gentle custard of creme brûlées before the now-ubiquitous dessert got too popular (and too firm).
The signature sweet is a sky-high citrus pie that tops a three-citrus take on Key lime pie with Italian meringue. I guess I’ll have to head back for dinner No. 4 to try it. (Hey, it’s my job!) While I’m there I’ll more carefully pursue the décor—which includes a wall-sized street map of the city from perhaps a century ago, a photo display and paintings with themes of Old Florida.
The Chapman
500 South Park Avenue, Winter Park
407-635-1967 • hechapman.com