Archive for December 2015
“Helm … it’s like Star Wars …”
t says: So, for our last visit to Philly before the big move, the gang (g + t + a+ v) decided we go out with a bang. a and I thought it’d be fun to see Star Wars. g and v disagreed, feeling it would be more fun to get manicures. So the boys went to the movies, and the girls went to the salon. We met up at Helm to compare notes.
December 2015, Friday Dinner, Party of 4. We Uber’d our way to Helm as it is tucked away in north-east Philly (although not too north-east – wouldn’t want to go beyond where the hipsters live …). Jus having seen Star Wars, a and I had to control our conversation as we strolled in with our bottles of wine in hand, as we did not want to reveal the super-not-so-secret-plot-twist. Fortunately, we were promptly seated and introduced to the menu. The format of the introduction was was weird. Really weird. How? Well, they have a super-“cool” chalkboard menu on the wall (i.e. the entire wall is essentially the chalkboard), on which they have scrawled all of the dishes. But unlike classy chalkboards (e.g. Little Fish), this one was only one part informative and one part hipster-cool and 18 parts kindergarten disaster. Seriously. There were colors everywhere, changes in font size everywhere, no empty space whatsoever; it was super-hard to read. That’s ok, we found out that they must feel that reading would be “soooo 2000’s”, because our trusty waiter walked us through the menu. Like the whole menu. Like every frickin’ dish on the menu. Like every ingredient in every frickin’ dish on the menu. Like how every single ingredient was prepared and assembled to make every frickin’ dish on the menu. And he did so with the gusto of 1980’s robot; it was clear that he was going to finish his memorized speech come hell or high water. So we let him … not even calling him out on the dish he forgot to tell us about, or the disparity between some of the ingredients he was mentioning and those listed on the menu. But, to be fair, he probably forgot those, himself, because the chalkboard menu which was supposed to remind him was illegible. There is only one way to summarize our first impression of the restaurant: foodie-douche-baggery. Fortunately, we were able to get the waiter to open up as the meal went on (and we were among the last diners remaining), but we had to break down his forcefield of douche-baggery to get to the actually nice, pleasant, Philly-BYO-attitude underneath. We’re glad we found it before we left, otherwise the title of this review would have been something different entirely …
The food? Well, it had lots of potential, but felt short:
This guy, an assortment of nature’s bounty, ultimately had every texture coming out identical …
… meanwhile the Brussels sprouts (with almond, not hazelnut as on the board) was inundate with salt and fried garlic so that your palate was beaten to within an inch of its life. (Although death by garlic wouldn’t have been that bad – I do like garlic).
One of our mains was a filled pasta with a duck-containing sauce that would have been delicious had not been for the excessive saltiness … which was similar to our complaints with the other three mains on the table (so I’m not going to bother showing them to you). For all of the praise that Helm has been getting, is it possible that people are mistaking “flavor” for “excessive salt”? And what gives with all the blank space on the plates? This is a Philly BYO for godsakes – get over yourselves. Give us an appropriately-sized plate or give us more food (with less salt).
Dessert … *sighs* … how did I go wrong? I chose “the chocolate one”. (g says: oh gawd. that looks awful). t’s back: Why is it a puddle of goo? Covered in what appears to be blood and dirt? Ok – that’s an exageration (blood is more opaque) – so let’s just say that it was not a feast for the eyes. It did taste better than it looked, which is a plus, but it’s not like I was taken to the highest clouds of chocolate heaven …
But this is Helm’s redemption. A Basque cake. Really. This little P.O.S. cake was insane. While it didn’t totally make up for every one of Helm’s wrongs, it came pretty darn close. We should have just ordered four of these for our mains and called it a night, as it was butter-sugar perfection.
So, in the end, we have no choice but to compare our experience at Helm to a’s and my experience at Star Wars. A lot of critical acclaim built up some high expectations, followed by a lot of buzz by normal people who loved it, too! But ultimately, from our firsthand experience, we are left wondering, “gee, were we in the same theater/restaurat as everyone else?”. Don’t get us wrong, Helm and Star Wars weren’t “bad”, but we were left wondering, “where’s the magic?” For The Force Awakens, yes, it was certainly better than Episode 1, but it lacked some of the “wow”/”magic”/”attitude” of Episodes 4-6 that presumably inspired it, with its super-fast-moving plot and “twists” that were not at all unpredictable, while being marred by excessive CGI. Similarly, Helm was better than eating at McDonalds, but it lacked some of the “wow”/”magic”/”attitude” of the old guard of Philly BYO’s that presumably inspired it, with its stupid chalkboard and foodie-douche-baggery “twists” that were not at all unpredictable, while being marred by excessive salt. Helm is no Django. Sorry guys. Time to go back to Mercato …
3 months and no post – what gives?
t says: It’s true! In the history of adsz, we have never had such a break! What happened? Where did we go? Well, it’s complicated. About one month ago, we moved to NJ. But it wasn’t the “oh, let’s move to the NJ ‘burbs” maneuver that most people might try, rather, it was a “oh, crap, we shipped all of our stuff to California and have no place to live” maneuver. So we lived with our folks for a bit, which was surprisingly awesome. But because there was so much commuting time, the blog kind of fell off the radar (if only I could blog and drive at the same time …). Well, anyways, let’s make up for lost time.
I had a sad-looking burger from Good Stuff Eatery (Asian-inspired – I think there were some Vietnamese influences given the pickled carrots) – it was uninspiring, thus I was not surprised when they closed soon thereafter.
I managed to find this little treasure on FineWineGoodSpirits.com and had it sent (for free) to a local PLCB branch. It was quite good. If you’re looking for a not-so-boring-yet-not-in-your-face-Merlot with some bottle age on it, Matthiasson ’07 can do no wrong – I’d say it’s worth about 40 of the $50 they charge (probably would have been a little more exciting of a bottle a year or two back).
Who could do wrong, however, was Serpico. No – it wasn’t the food’s fault, rather, it was the service’s fault! We brought the aforementioned ’07 Matthiasson there, thinking that they were still corkage-free. The server gladly brought over glasses and poured our wine with nary a mention that they WERE charging corkage. We weren’t told a thing until after I noticed the charge on our bill! When I brought it up to our server, she realized that she neglected to tell us anything and went to “ask the GM about it”. He came over, apologized that they had done away with the corkage policy some 6 months prior, and said that he COULD NOT forgive the charge just this once (even though it was his own server’s fault for not telling us about the charge!). We have been to several restaurants with the intention of paying corkage, and they always always ALWAYS remind us at the beginning of the meal, “just so you know, there will be a corkage charge” – which we gladly accept. But if you do not tell the diner that they are on the hook for the cost, serve them the wine, admit that you forgot to tell us about the cost, you should not charge the diner. I’m sorry you made a mistake (#SorryNotSorry). In any case, the food was fine at Serpico, but now there are two strikes against it – #1: no more BYO, #2: intolerable service practice. adsz will go there no more.
We did a DiBruno After Hours Party (if you don’t know what it is, google it now), and it was FLAWLESS. Gawd. We ate so much cheese – and it wasn’t just stuff we already knew we liked (or stuff we had before) – there was new stuff! Like this blue which is my new favorite; I’m not a fan of blues, so when I had this one which had only mild funk, but a salty minerality that was so addictive, I knew I had to buy some.
And then they paired this other blue with this chocolate bar and my face melted. I’m currently faceless. Thanks DiBruno.
We made a trip to NYC just to bid it farewell until our return to the East coast. Brunch started off at The Smith, which had dishes as scrumptious as this – that’s a serious mashup of Florentine + Benedict + Waffle …
… and the day continued on to dinner at Freeman’s, which is one of my favorite NYC restos – it’s just too darn cute!
and the food is nothing to sneeze at either. I have to say that it was pretty good – I think that it didn’t really hit any notes that we couldn’t find in Philly, and it was, of course, at NYC prices, but for the super-cute ambience, it was totally worth it.
g and I visited Frog and Peach, one of a and v’s favorite restos near Rutgers on our return from another NY trip. It was kind of surreal to finally be sitting in the place – the food was good (their take on a carbonara), but surely would have been made better had a and v been there.
The gang gave Bistrot La Minette another chance, and while they had me at escargot, I’m just not sure everything was drool-worthy. Nothing made our eyes roll into the back of our heads, followed by urging others to try such-and-such dish. Where’s the magic?
I’ll tell you where the magic is – it’s at Mercato. It’s always at Mercato. Frickin’ Mercato. We show up with a bottle of Ayoub, order us up the pasta specials, and they just wreck it. Every. Time. You know – I can’t even remember what we ordered, but I do vividly remember thinking, “you know, after being in Philly for 10 years, I will now put down Mercato over Melograno for BYO Italian”. *Begin Slow Clap Here*.
Some people are crazy for FedNuts sandwiches. I’m not sure why. I mean, sure, it’s tasty, but it’s chicken, pickles, and some cheese. It was reminiscent of the KFC Chicken Little sandwich, which, while being delicious circa 1980’s-90’s, really shouldn’t draw the attention that FedNuts gets for these. Oh well.
Remember Freeman’s? Well, one day, I snuck back to NYC and had brunch there. And as the scent of the carrot cake pancakes you see above triggered a tidal wave of drool from my mouth, I realized that while dinner there is good, the brunch is to die for (or to kill for). Imagine carrot cake. But make it about 436% better. And make it for breakfast. Of every food in this post, this is the one dish where only expletives can fully capture how good they were. Those f*****g pancakes were so f*****g good. End rant.
And finally, there was a trip to Lo Spiedo that impressed drb quite a bit. While he was disappointed in the charge for whisky, he was more than happy with the food (including a not-pictured avocado bruschetta). The roasted fish was indeed delightful – very simple and so good.
BUT – we’re not done yet!! There’s one more Philly post in us!
after dinner sneeze 