Prospect Hill

	Prospect Hill Near Trevilians, 15 miles east of Charlottesville, 55 miles west of Richmond - Map Phone: 800.277.0844 or 540.967.0844 Website: www.prospecthill.com Innkeepers: Michael and Laura Sheehan. Emeritus: Bill and Mireille Sheehan. Dinner only: Sunday through Thursday, 7 p.m., Friday and Saturday, 8 p.m. (one seating only) Wine reception one-half hour before. Price Range: Fixed price, $50, plus drinks, tax and tip. Liquor: Wine and beer Children: Not recommended Credit cards: Yes Dress: Dressy casual Smoking: No Handicap accessible: No Lodging: 13 rooms, five in the main house and eight in individual cottages. $285-365 a couple, includes afternoon tea, a pre-dinners social hour with wine, a five-course dinner and full breakfast. Discounts for midweek stays except for April, May and October. Directions: From I-64, take exit 136, go south on Rt. 15 one-half mile to Zion Crossroads; east on U. S. 250 one mile; north on Rt. 613 three miles, to inn on left. Nearby: strolling grounds, hiking.

Autumn is the perfect time of year to visit Prospect Hill, a picture-perfect 18^th century plantation that has been lovingly converted into a modern inn and restaurant in the Louisa County countryside.

You don’t have to stay overnight at the inn to savor its nightly five-course dinner, but once you pull into its long, narrow driveway, lined with century-old boxwoods that lead to the yellow clapboard manor house, and later stroll its 50 manicured acres, you will want to.

Innkeepers Michael and Laura Sheehan, and his parents, Bill and Meirille Sheehan, who bought Prospect Hill in 1977, have transformed the once run-down main house and its 200-year-old outbuildings into such a romantic rendezvous that if it were located in the Poconos, or some other locale less genteel than Virginuh, it would be a prime destination for honeymooners.

As it is, Prospect Hill is a favorite destination for young couples seeking a weekend away from the kids and retirees rekindling the fervor of their youth. Many of its guests are repeat visitors, from the Washington area, New York and as far away as California.

Whether you choose one of the five rooms in the house, circa 1732, or any of the eight cottages that flank it, guests can be assured of having what Bill Sheehan describes as "18^th century atmosphere with 21^st century amenities."

Prospect Hill is not a mom-and-pop operation. It has an annual payroll of $350,000 and a staff of 33, including two men who work exclusively on the grounds.

Upon arrival, guests will discover a half-bottle of wine and a basket of fruit in their room. Most of the sleeping rooms have wood-burning fireplaces, queen beds, refrigerator, coffee pot, antique furniture and no TV. Most bathrooms have double Jacuzzis. Several rooms have private balconies or patios.

Guests can stroll the meticulously maintained grounds (statutes of cupid encourage hand-holding) or relax beneath a white-columned, Greek revival pavilion in the arboretum. Among the towering trees are a magnolia macrofilia—one of just three in the U. S.—whose leaves are three-feet long, and a giant copper beach, whose foliage morphs from brown and rust to purple and yellow.

Afternoon tea is delivered to the rooms and one-half hour before dinner, everyone gathers in the parlors of the main house for wine or tea.

Innkeeper Michael Sheehan rings a bell promptly at 7 p.m. (an hour later on weekends) and guests move to candle-lit tables for two (a few tables seat four) and a welcoming by their host.

Thirty-seven-year-old Michael and his wife took over operation of the inn from his parents 12 years ago, although the elder Sheehans often are on the premises, with Bill, 60, holding forth with stories of his Irish ancestors and his New York childhood.

After being seated came the first of a series of small surprises. The first is that guests are asked to join in a blessing, a tradition begun by the Sheehans when they opened the inn in 1977. (Note to the religiously adverse: It was the only pious moment of our stay.)

Next came the realization that there is no menu. Instead, Michael or his father recites the evening’s offering, including a recommended wine.

The final surprise is that Prospect Hill is not a place for folks who don’t like red meat. While the menu changes daily, based on what’s available at local markets and from the inn’s own garden, the entrée is always meat.

The Sheehans made the decision not to serve fish as an entrée after discovering, as Bill explained, that "people have a love-hate feeling about seafood, and if they hate it, we wound up with a bunch of unhappy guests."

For those who can’t or won’t eat meat, the kitchen will prepare a special meal, often using the fresh fish that typically is offered as an appetizer, including scallops, shrimp, crab, halibut, salmon and tuna, or a vegetarian platter.

It’s possible to call a day or two in advance to inquire about the menu, but Michael says he can make no guarantees, because everything is prepared fresh.

"For example," he explained, "if a large party can’t eat pork, we may rearrange the menu ."

The food is eclectic, or as Bill put it, "a little French, a little Southern and a little Southwestern," a variety that reflects the training and backgrounds of the Sheehans and the chefs they hire.

Mireille was the inn’s first cook, and as a native of Menton on the French Riviera, she served up classical French fare. When Bill succeeded her in the kitchen, he began to Americanize the menu.

Michael, who was 15 when his parents bought the inn, learned to cook by helping out in the kitchen, and during two summers at the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo.

The amalgam in the kitchen took another step about six years ago with the hiring of a sous chef, Sergio Perkins, whose mother is Mexican (his father is a native of Louisa County).

Before coming home, Perkins worked in restaurants in Southern California, which accounts for touches of Japanese on the plates, such as nori (seaweed), wasabi (horseradish) and the familiar hoison (plum sauce).

The night of our stay, the meal began auspiciously with blackened Gulf shrimp in a spicy island jerk sauce, with turmeric infused oil and grape tomatoes, which are a bit smaller than cherry tomatoes.

The second course was a tasty black bean soup with sour cream and scallions, whose secret ingredient, Bill confided, was bacon drippings.

A simple salad consisted of baby greens with vinaigrette.

The entrée was a generous portion of oven-roasted center loin of veal, cooked in a black mission fig sauce, served with steamy, plump Israeli couscous, snow peas and sweet Holland peppers.

Dessert was an airy chocolate pate accompanied by a raspberry coulis. The later is a nouvelle cuisine favorite, a thin pureed or strained sauce that can be made with various fruits, or on an entrée with vegetables.

Many of the other dinners play off combinations of ingredients and cooking techniques similar to the ones we enjoyed.

Recent menus listed these starters: tempura battered Atlantic sea scallop nori on Napa cabbage and Swiss chard salad, sprinkled with creamy wasabi and hoisin; Chesapeake blue crab roulade in a flaky pastry, served over curried couscous and remolaude; butterflied Thai shrimp with sweet corn and a cracked pepper muffin on fresh mache (a fine, green leaf) with avocado; sautéed filet of halibut with a sweet Holland and bell pepper salsa and blackened banana pepper sauce; coconut-crusted Atlantic salmon fillet with purple sticky rice, seranno chili and mango sauce; and grilled tuna with lemon hoison glaze on lobster mushroom and sweet basil cream.

The soup might be another version of the black bean, with roasted red peppers and sautéed leeks; or lump crab and saffron; cauliflower and Virginia bacon with roasted garlic butter crustade; sweet local corn with jerk spiced shrimp; peppery peach with crème fraiche, mint, yellow and orange Holland bell peppers with Hawaiian pineapple and Florida orange.

Recent entrees included three treatments of roasted beef tenderloin, with glazes of country mustard, whole grain mustard or crimini mushrooms; two versions of lamb, pan seared with fig sauce or Australian spring lamb chops with country mustard and tarragon glaze; and an oven roasted pork center loin with blackened tomatillo (green tomato) sauce.

None of the food is fried, and the Sheehans use little sodium or salt in their cooking.

Dessert might turn out to be a variation of the chocolate pate with a morello cherry coulis; chocolate-raspberry truffle torte with blueberry or apricot coulis; lemon cheesecake with a coulis of raspberry or other fresh berries; chocolate raspberry tart with dark chocolate sauce, garnished with driscoll strawberries; or amaretto marscapone torte with fresh strawberry puree.

On our visit, the recommended dinner wine was a French red, a 1998 Chateau Simian Cotes du Rhone, offered at $30 a bottle or $7.50 a glass, although our waiter didn’t mention the price. We thought the wine, like the food, was a matter of take-it-or-leave-it because our waiter didn’t mention that a wine list was available.

The next day, on a tour of the inn, we learned that the Sheehans have accumulated an adequate wine cellar, which in addition to French, includes California and Virginia vintages, some of the latter produced at nearby wineries. Most sell in the range of $25 to $30.

October is one of the busiest months of the year at Prospect Hill, as it is at other beautifully situated inns, but even if you can’t book a room, the inn welcomes guests for dinner only (the inn can accommodate a maximum of 26 overnight guests, but its dining rooms can seat nearly twice that many).

Next month won’t be as busy, except for Thanksgiving. For that holiday, dinner, at $60, is served promptly at 6 p.m. The lavish feast offers the traditional turkey and Virginia ham, along with a cranberry-orange relish and a stuffing handed down from the family’s French ancestors, of Italian sausage, apples, currants and a hint of white truffle.

With the leaves changing and falling, many days before guests can see 12 miles across the fields to Boswell’s Tavern, where Lafayette slept, and the mountains beyond that.

At night, they can they can participate in one of Bill Sheehan’s favorite activities, stargazing. The city bred founder of the inn, with typical blarney, contends, "I never saw the Milky Way until I was 40."

This review originally appeared in 64 magazine in October, 2000.