Johnny Apples Bar and Restaurant

This restaurant in Holland, Pa., with its menu full of American classics, seems set to fill a niche for affordable special occasions.

By: Judith Norkin

   JOHNNY Apples is a six-month-old bar and restaurant located in a restored 1700s stone and stucco building that has had many lives. A brief history given in the menu says the building served as a post office, a general store and even a gas station.
   It was used as a restaurant in the ’60s and ’70s, but by the time the current owners purchased the building, it was an abandoned eyesore. Chef Chris Geiss, who spoke with me after I dined there, said it took four years and nearly $2 million to convert it into the clean, well-manicured and usable space it is today.
   We decided to check out Johnny Apples on a Sunday evening. We entered the building and enjoyed looking around. It was as nice inside as it was outside, done in an updated traditional style. Dark teal walls, wall-to-wall carpeting, well-lit dining spaces and wide-seated chairs created a comfortable and unpretentious atmosphere. Many attractive features — a fish tank, plants, framed prints and an impressive Victorian-style glass window separating the enormous bar from the dining area — suggested a decorator’s touch. Very handsome, we decided, in a Cheers kind of way.
   We thought that if the quality of the food matched the décor, we were in for a treat. And indeed, it started out well. A very congenial waiter came to take our drink order. We scanned the menu, which is full of American classics like broiled salmon ($14.95), pasta primavera ($10.95), chicken stir fry ($12.95) and steak au poivre ($17.95). There were also a variety of soups, salads and a children’s menu. We settled on a few things, placed our order and sat back.
   The waiter soon brought our drinks and a basket of dinner rolls with butter. A plate of crunchy, breaded mozzarella sticks with a pungent tomato dipping sauce ($4.50) came out only a few moments later. The drinks were tall and icy cold, the appetizer was hot and gratifyingly spicy, and we thought that Johnny Apples might actually qualify for a spot on our short list of favorite local eateries. This possibility was reinforced when the soups came out — both were included in the price of our dinners. Hubby’s lobster bisque was a luscious shade of coral, rich, well-seasoned and satisfyingly thick. Mine, a mushroom Florentine, was chock full of mushrooms and spinach in a tasty chicken stock, a mite too thick but still pretty darn good.
   Then the dreamy dining experience started to fade. Maybe it was the fact that no one came to take our empty dishes or offered to refill our drinks. No staffing shortage was apparent — three or four busboys were busily clearing, moving and re-setting the tables for the party of 10 or so that had just vacated the tables beside us. But they just seemed to not notice that ours needed attention.
   We rolled our eyes and flagged down the waiter. The table was cleared. Just a little glitch, we thought. But then, after waiting more than a fair amount of time for our entrées, we flagged the waiter again. "I’m trying to rush your order," he said apologetically. We sighed, waited and eventually asked if there was a problem. A large party of 18 had come in right after us, the waiter explained. Their order was huge and the kitchen was filling it first — not the thing hungry customers enjoy hearing.
   The entrées eventually made it, with only one minor mix-up that was immediately rectified by the waiter. The children’s platter of chicken fingers with French fries ($5.95) was hot and crispy and very good. But my chicken Marsala ($13.95) was not. Its sauce was thin and bitter, lacking the balance of any secondary flavors. Though the accompanying baked potato was perfectly flaky and steaming hot, it could not make up for the dish’s other shortcomings. Hubby’s veal picante ($14.95) was equally gloomy. Though generously sized, the sauce, which the menu described as "a white wine and caper sauce," was bland and viscous, without any discernable seasoning. Even for my husband’s cast-iron palate, it posed a challenge. A veteran member of the clean-plate club, he ended up with plenty of food left. When the waiter offered to wrap the leftovers, we said "No thanks."
   Ah well, I thought. Dessert was ahead. Desperately hoping for something fantastic to rave about in print, I caught the waiter’s attention. He came, pad in hand. Could we see a dessert menu? Not necessary, he said. Only two items were available: ice cream or cheesecake. I was thrown — a place with so many entrées typically has a much wider choice of desserts. Could he clarify? The menu was much larger he explained, but there’d been trouble with the delivery truck and only the ice cream and cheesecake were left. Neither seemed worth the trauma to the waistline, so we merely asked for the check and left.
   I later called the restaurant and spoke to Mr. Geiss, the manager and regular chef, who was very unhappy to hear about our experience. He had not been in the kitchen that night, and the chef who was there at that time had actually been dismissed — for good reason, I thought. The restaurant’s true quality and level of service was generally much better than what we’d experienced, Mr. Geiss said, and suggested we give it another try.
   There’s a shortage of affordable restaurants around the area that are also good enough for special occasions. When the very nice-looking and still young Johnny Apples works out its kinks, I have no doubt that it will ultimately be an asset to local diners. Though our experience there was overall not a satisfying one, the fact that the chef working the night we visited is now gone bodes well for the future.
For directions to Johnny Apples Bar and Restaurant, click here.