Sbraga surprises
t says: g had been wanting to go to Sbraga for some time. We had wanted to go with a and v, but couldn’t quite get our acts together (and Sbraga’s always too busy on Fri-Sat nights!). So on one Monday, we ditched a and v (actually, we did invite them, but they were indisposed) to go and celebrate g’s new job. What better way than a surprise Monday night dinner? Let’s just say that g and I were in for a wild ride …
February 2013, Monday Dinner, Party of 2. We entered Sbraga after getting fooled by the side door on Pine street and were greeted by a host who, while nice enough, needs to learn how to button up his shirt a bit more – there is no need for anyone to be showing off that much chest … well … unless you cross into d-bag territory, which I’m hoping no restaurant actually employs to be their front of house. So that was first of many surprises that evening …
The atmosphere in Sbraga is very interesting. Half of it is rustic, as one might expect from a Philly chef like Sbraga. But the other half is fancy, with white tablecloths, turned-way-down lights, and ridiculously large dishes (you’ll see below). But there are other elements need to be called out. For one, I’m not sure who designed the Sbraga logo, but what’s the deal with the typography? There are all kinds of spaces between certain letters and not other ones. It’s like SBR_A_GA … what is that? But, as I have no formal graphic design training, I asked g, who confirmed that it is indeed cringe-inducing. Whew! First I thought I was just simply not cool enough to “get it” – at least now I have company! This leads me into another, but related, cringe-inducing item of the evening: I’m pretty sure I saw t-shirts and hats bearing the Sbraga name for sale … Now maybe it was a joke, and maybe the bar wasn’t really displaying merchandise for sale, but if it was, I have no choice but to hang my head down and shake it back and forth in a disapproving manner. For real? Come on guys! Now if the shirts were funny or a “shtick” like at Le Pigeon, I’d be down for it (I have often thought of buying the foie gras one, but fear that I might be a target for projectiles from friend and foe alike). But a shirt just to milk the several-years-old Top Chef victory is a bit much. At least make them buy something food-related, like a chef’s spoon, or a wineglass or something …
Ok, and then the final problem of the evening …
g and I brought an Oregon Pinot Noir along, knowing full well that there’s a $25 corkage fee – but we brought it “just in case” we weren’t able to find suitable options (better to be safe than sorry!). We were happy to see that there were actually lots of wine options at Sbraga. First off, there’s a +$35 supplement where you can add EtOH pairings to your tasting menu ($49 for 4 courses), which sounds like a deal! But because some included carbonated beverages, which I cannot tolerate, I took a peak at the drink menu to see what “else” could be substituted in its place … then I got distracted by their red wine list. At first, I thought, “gee! that’s cool, they have zwiegelt and a Greek red on the menu!” So that was a plus. But then I started reading the rest of the entries … and was shocked …
red wine list
As you can see, I looked at their wine list for Oregon Pinots, thinking that maybe I’d not disrespect their sommelier/wineguy by not asking them to open ours and just going with theirs. But Trisae? Really? $135? Allow me to illustrate:
yea … and this is me not even googling for cheaper prices …
That’s right, it’s a 300% markup (almost). Holy crapballs. Not to mention it’s even cheaper elsewheres (the bottle I had cost me $28). And it’s not even that good of a wine – check our review here (look at the 12/19 tasting note)! With a bad taste in my mouth, I eschewed the winelist, realizing that I could no longer have faith in the wine program if they were going to consider Trisae to be one of their most expensive red wines … So we pulled out our own wine: Adelsheim’s 2009 Boulder Bluff. Damn – now that was a great bottle of wine!
Ok … self-back-patting aside … let’s talk about the really surprising occurrence of the evening, as poor design, weird atmosphere, peculiar merchandise, and horribly-overpriced wines are, in actuality, not all that surprising …
carrot soup: this carrot soup is g’s new flavor of the month – it looks like a puddle of orange-yellow, but was so full of flavor depth that we’re pretty sure that it involves animal somehow – maybe in the “marshmallow”? for real, this was the best soup we’ve had in years (GTC vichysoisse included)
pork belly appetizer: truly surprising, with just the right combination of spice and sour pickles and sweet – it was a masterful way to play around with pork belly and give it the lift of a crudo or ceviche – beautiful!
truffle risotto: in this example of a ridiculously over-sized dish, there’s a black truffle risotto that was so full of flavor (and not just truffle) that g demolished it. I completely forgot what I had because g’s was so good
pork sandwich, with broccoli rabe and cheese: this was the absolute-best-thing-we ate that night. One taste and g completely forgot about her Meatloaf, which, while good (and apparently something they’re known for), was completely outclassed by this dish. It tasted exactly like the absolute best pork Italiano sandwich that Tony Luke’s could ever make … but clearly was fork-and-knife-worthy. It made me pause and reflect on how the flavors could be so deep, when it was just a slab of meat, a slab of ?bread pudding?, some green, some cheese, and some sauce … but it was. As I breathed in and let the flavors dance on my palate, I was reminded of Talula’s Table ca 2008-2009 – the duck-and-beans dish! It had this supreme sense of comfort, but a finish that just kept going on and on – it was like a fine wine (if only wine could taste like a pork sandwich).
It was after the 3rd course when g and I realized that the food here was crazy-good … like old-Sikora-good (i.e. the guy who made those first Talula’s Table diners so awesome). We were kinda-sorta-ready for a letdown of over-hypeness when we first walked in, so this was shocking. Sure, there were two dishes that we are kinda-sorta-neglected, but the other ones were just so awesome that I’m not sure if that’s fair to say the other ones were unremarkable. I will say, though, that the weakest parts of the meal was the dessert; the cheese plate cheese plate and a deconstructed banana split were fine, but definitely not near the level the rest of the meal was at (and nowhere near Talula’s Garden’s offerings).
So, in sum, g and I find that this place is totally worth $49 for the food, which I think is a huge accomplishment, when a four-bell, critically-adored place like Zahav is barely worth the $42/pp price in our eyes. Thus, Sbraga joins the ranks of other “worth-it” fixed price menus, like Sundays at Little Fish and Bibou. I think that going forward, their biggest challenge is going to be the “everything else” aside from the food (i.e. all the stuff I slammed them for in the beginning of this post). I wish them the best of luck – you know we’ll be around for sure … with our own bottles of wine in hand, but around nontheless …
kanella kwietly kicking ass
t says: There are some restaurants that we here at adsz have done a disservice. How? Well, there are some really great ones out there, and, while we tell people about them all the time, we have so few reviews! Furthermore, press like Philly Mag (a suggests: in an attempt to be relevant?) disses them by placing them somewhere on the back 25 of their top 50 list, behind snooze-fests like Stateside, Il Pittore, Le Virtu, and Jamonera … I’m talking about Kanella. Helmed by crazy-piercing-eyed Chef Konstantinos Pitsillides, Kanella has, over the years, cranked out some super-delightful dinners with flavor combinations that are still interesting and novel. And while the servers all seem to have a dash of weirdness, we at least appreciate their enthusiasm/energy. As a matter of fact, g and I ate there with v and another friend (a was MIA) just the other night …
February 2013, Friday Dinner, Party of 4. We arrived to an all-too-familiar experience when visiting Kanella: the wait. It seems that dinner reservation times are always met with some kind of wait. This time wasn’t too bad – about 5-10 minutes. Fortunately, we were allowed to wait inside and not in that super-dinky-ante-room-thingee where we would have surely frozen. Is a wait forgivable? No, not really, but I did see the patrons hanging out at the soon-to-be-ours table, with the check paid, just lingering, so I can’t really blame the restaurant (can I?), rather, other people. But what was cool was the opportunity to greet Chef as he walked around the room, as for all the press he gets for his crazy memos outside his kitchen window, I had never once heard him actually talk. He was a little stiff, but I can’t say I was much better at trying to get a conversation to flow – it’s just his piercing blue eyes!
After we sat, we were greeted by our server, who, also typical of the Kanella experience, was just a little weird. There was something in his verbosity that had us all chuckling, albeit a little uncomfortably – but that’s ok because we warmed up to him nicely. Furthermore, he was very attentive, well-informed, and made everything sound wonderful, so he gets an A+ for the evening.
Now on to the food …
If you eat at Kanella, the “Dips of the Day” are pretty much obligatory. Made of whatever vegetables they happen to have on hand, the spreads are always so lively and fresh that you wish you could just pull out an ampule of dip at work to spruce up your ho-hum lunch (it’d make “baked potato day” a whole lot more interesting … that’s right – some of you know what I’m talking about). The octopus and [free] salad (Kanella very frequently realizes diners are waiting and will send out food) were both nice starters to the meal, waking up our palates with smoky tentacles and bright greens. And after that, Kanella churned out three ridiculously good dishes of food (it was actually four dishes, but two of us got the same thing), just the kind to warm you up on a frickin-freezing-cold night.
oxtail
What you see above you is a LOT of [most-likely-braised-and-then-]shredded oxtail, with a few dumplings and a lot of cilantro. And it was AWESOME. It was the most uplifted/bright/agile dish of braised meat I have ever had (imagine if you will a cow doing gymnastics), most likely courtesy of lemon and cilantro and one other unidentified green stalk (?celery? ?rhubarb?? chard?). My mouth was so sad when it was over (but my tummy was full). I would have liked a few more dumplings to balance against the meat (there were only ~4), but our server graciously gave us more bread (his idea! we didn’t even ask for it!), so I was happily starched for the evening.
I did not get a chance to snap pics of the goat stew, which I’m told was a winner last night (I was so “in” to my dish I didn’t bother tasting anyone elses). While I don’t quite have specifics about their experiences, I can say that with nothing left on their plates, they were very much satisfied. g went for their porkchop which, as she had once before, was scrumptious. Really, I have a lack of words here because no one had an ill word to say – and I think that‘s saying something. Everything had this feeling of warmth and home and comfort that you’d almost forget you’re in a very-busy, loud Philly BYO …
pistachio creme brulee and lemon ice cream in the foreground, baklava and something else in the background
The desserts at Kanella are often in the head-nod-and-say-“pretty good” realm. And that night was no different. The pistachio creme brulee was perfectly executed, and when pit against the lemon ice cream that was dynamite (no, really – their ice creams are always wonderful), it was a fantastic combination. The baklava was chocked full of nuts, which some people might enjoy (I prefer a little more sweet and layers in my baklava), and that other thing (the thing that looks like it’s covered with cheese in the photo), while interesting, was just a little dry. It’s hard because I am probably completely unqualified to judge these desserts (maybe these are exactly how they’re supposed to be? I’m no Greek), so I guess you’ll just have to try it, yourself!
And the bill? It was $42/pp (with tax and tip). That’s not bad at all! We did bring our own wine, so that was wonderful (thanks, a, for the Riesling!). It’s a little pricey for a weeknight, but well worth the tariff on the weekend. So go to Kanella! I don’t know if it’s “cool” or not, but it’s reliably tasty!
korean roast chicken
t says: My cooking method of choice for some time has been braising – it’s just so much fun! The one meat that I’m just not 100%-pro-braise for is chicken – and I’m pretty sure that it’s because of a single problem: soggy skin. I mean who likes soggy skin?! No one! Chicken skin is supposed to be crisp and delicious! And between Rotisseur and FedNuts, there’s a lot of good skin out there! I was determined to put together a recipe that offered great skin, reasonably-tender-meat, and minimal time commitment (braises take way too long). So, with the help of Molly Stevens’s “All About Roasting”, I went back to basics: roasting skin-on chicken thighs.
Ingredients:
garlic, gouchichang, lemons, roasted sesame seeds, salt, pepper, rosemary, orange liqueur, chicken
Methods:
the rub
Step 1: The rub. The above is a concoction of a heaping teaspoon of gouchichang, a heaping teaspoon of roasted sesame seeds, a half teaspoon of sesame oil (you can use whatever oil you want – I like the sesame flavor), 4 cloves of minced fresh garlic (yes, it’s a LOT of garlic), a dash of black pepper, and then enough lemon juice to make it spreadable (~0.5 lemon). So basically, it’s made of everything awesome, mashed together (and yes, it needs to be mashed to release some of the garlic essences). And, because I added gouchichang and sesame seeds, I can now call this “korean roast chicken”. Afterwards, coat the entirety of each chicken piece with the rub – and make sure you get a good amount between the skin and chicken. Let the chicken temper at least a half hour.
getting fancy in the pan
Step 2: The pan. Here’s where we make it fancy. Place a slice of lemon wherever you plan on placing a chicken thigh. Top it with a sprig of rosemary. Add a half teaspoon of orange liqueur to each slice (we tend to have GranGala on hand, but whatever). You don’t want to put in more orange liqueur than can be contained a single lemon slice, as the excess will leak away from the lemon, and then burn and smoke when heated in the oven (trust me – I made this mistake already).
the assembly
Step 3: The Assembly. Place each piece of chicken on top of each slice of lemon. Basically, each piece of chicken is on its own lemon pedestal. It’s weird, but I feel that these slices of lemon really add some zing! Season with salt and pepper. Snake some remaining sprigs of rosemary between the chicken – if nothing else, the pan will look more festive, and your house will smell like rosemary, so what do you have to lose?
Step 4: The Cookery. 450 degrees for 30-35 minutes (40 minutes was great, but I’m anticipating I could go shorter and it’d be juicier).
And that’s it! Based on how hot you like it, you could smother more of the sauce on the chicken before cooking.
think drink pink
t says: g and I are always on the look-out for delicious wine – you know – the kind that you want buy over and over again because it’s just that good … and the kind that you can buy over and over again because it’s just that affordable. Here’s our latest addition the cellar:
it’s pink!
What you see above is a wine that manages to balance some very nice flavors. First up, you get a plusher-than-expected lightly-sweet red fruit (strawberry, cherry) – it’s very fleeting, but a referred to it as “lollipop”. Then it gives way to a clean citrus zip that offsets the sweet (kinda like lemon juice vs. sugar), as it goes into a nice refreshing medium-length finish that beckons you to drink more. This is not a “really sweet” wine, but there is indeed some residual sugar in there – but I think that’s what makes it so interesting (g and I normally can’t handle sweet wines: late harvest wines, dessert wines, ice wines, etc). Is it “complex”? Not really – but definitely very “fun”. I’d be willing to bet that if brought to a dinner party, people will get over it’s pink-ness very fast and drink it down. I don’t know how many liquor stores will stock this wine regularly (i.e. it can’t be found in PA), but if you do happen to be venturing into NJ sometime, swing by our fave, wineworks, and pick up a bottle (place the online order ahead of time – it’s a buck or two cheaper). It’s a perfect color for Valentine’s day … but it’s a great flavor for any day … (well … maybe not steak day …)
robbing girl scouts
t says: It’s girl scout cookie season! I just bought some!
the first cookie of 2013 … were these always as hexagonal? I could have sworn they were round … ?
I also look for Girl Scout ice cream. Around these parts, we usually get Edy’s, not Dreyer’s.
wait a sec! what happened to “Samoas”? what happened to the “girl scouts”? weird!? Are we ripping off those girls?
overhyping Le Virtu
t says: The gang has been wanting to go to Le Virtu for some time. They’ve been getting a lot of press, including a favorable review of the bajillion course meal, so we knew we just had to get in there and see what’s cookin’ …
January 2013, Saturday Dinner, Party of 5. The space was much smaller than I was expecting – or maybe it was a fine space, but dominated by very large tables. I found myself very-nearly-shouting across the table so people could hear me (the tables were very wide). But that’s cool, right? A nice “lively” atmosphere! After the first few minutes, we got used to the volume and it was no big deal. We ordered a bottle of wine (Le Virtu’s not BYO), ordered our food, and let the flurry of dishes just come on out! They came fast and furious, but I only managed to snap pictures of these:
house-made sausage and polenta: this was AWESOME – the leaking sausage juices over the polenta was incredible – I found myself using bread to sop my dish clean. I’d say this was the best dish of the evening …
gnocchi with lamb sausage and pecorino. When I first heard “gnocchi and lamb sausage” I was jazzed. Unfortunately, this wasn’t exactly the kind of gnocchi that I was expecting – it was more of an extra-firm pasta. Now I’m sure that what they served me is indeed technically considered “gnocchi”, and that’s fine, but I feel like they need to make some mention that it’s a little atypical, because simple-minded diners like me will be confused. Overall, the the dish was nothing more than some pasta, some cheese, and some sausage. No hidden surprises or complexities. WYSIWYG. I was hoping for something a little more … (some kind of acid would have brightened the dish a bit)
the other gnocchi with lamb shoulder. kp’s gnocchi were more of like gnocchi I was expecting with my dish. the texture was spot-on, however, the sauce had that sweet-tanginess to it that I generally dislike in tomato-based sauces. And where was the lamb?
g got a tagliettelle rabbit ragu and was very impressed. She boasted about her perfect pasta and savory sauce … and before I got any, it was gone! She said it was nearly-Melagrano-good – not quite as nuanced with the seasoning (e.g. it didn’t have herbacious rosemary accents), but a nice rabbit oomph! n and m enjoyed their food, but ultimately felt that there was better to be had at places like Modo Mio.
And there you had the general gist of the evening. There were some good highlights in there, but for every highlight (with the exception of the sausage), we found ourselves thinking of someone else who might do it better. Is it snobby-as-hell? Sure. And while some might think of this being a poor showing for Le Virtu, I think it’s a bit of a compliment, as it means that Le Virtu is flirting with greatness … but it’s just not “there” yet … and certainly not #5 …
little fish justs keep swimming …
t says: g and I hit up Little Fish the other day. It was amazing. Rather than harp, allow me to just say that it continues to be awesome … and taunt you with a photo … of lamb and fish:
after dinner sneeze 