Posts Tagged ‘BYO’
Lightning Round 3: C19, Salento, Gardenia
t says: We visited a few places recently – one before our SF trip and one afterwards. There were some highs and lows:
Gardenia:
We visited for brunch one morning on a whim. It’s hidden in the Art Alliance building off of Rittenhouse Square. Props: The food was quite tasty and the selection of jams were great. Best of all was the picturesque setting of sitting in a quiet little garden patio – this place would be great for a chill outdoor event. It’s just SO peaceful! Slops: Unfortunately, there were a few undercooked areas in my lemon-blueberry-ricotta pancakes. They were so close to being exemplary lemon-blueberry-ricotta pancakes, too! Verdict: If I had to stay in Rittenhouse for brunch, I’d take this place over Parc’s overwhelmingly energetic/frenetic atmosphere anytime.
EDIT: Parc’s brunch is still energentic/frenetic, but we’ve since learned to block out the people around us …
Salento:
There’s this small BYO near that wannabe Apple store on Walnut (Springboard Media). A newspaper clipping in their window boasts “gnocchi on heaven’s door”. We were bored and hungry so we gave it a whirl. Props: There’s never more than one table occupied. My orechiette and braised duck wasn’t half bad. Slops: There’s never more than one table occupied. My orechiette and braised duck wasn’t half good. g had the pasta and shrimp in tomato sauce and is pretty sure she could replicate the dish at home, if not make it better (Italians and their tomato gravies …). Verdict: Sorry Salento – I’ll now never know if the gnocchi was delicious because La Viola gives a similar quantity at a similar price-point for better quality (and neither will usurp Melograno for our local Italian eatery) .
Cicheterria 19:
This new place just off of Rittenhouse has a pretty small sign to look for. Boasting Venetian small plates, everything on the menu online sounds so good. So, the moment we saw gift certificates on sale at restaurant.com, we bought a $50 gift certificate for $4 (or was it $2?). Props: The space is very nice. The table-tops are cool, the stools are contoured, and the lighting is soothing. The server had a very authentic accent. The wine list has some lesser-known Italian varietals (i.e. not just a bunch of chianti sangiovese and other mainstream grapes – but it does have those, too, if you’d like). The Italian meatball was quite good (even g admitted to liking it … and, as mentioned above, she’s Italian), kp enjoyed the tiramisu, which had a nice contrast in texture between the lady fingers and decadent mascarpone, and the panna cotta, even though a bit sloppily presented, was creamy and the perfect consistency (*wink wink*). Slops: Seasoning was all over the place: the salt baked branzino was too salty while the potato-leek soup and french fries didn’t have enough. Scallops were inconsistent (over-cooked in some places, perfect in others), squid ink polenta was kind of bland (even for polenta!), and the arugula-egg-bacon-fig-gorgonzola salad didn’t quite sing harmony (it was a disjointed muddle of weak flavors … which was surprising). And we never got our baccala small plate despite ordering it and bringing it to their attention … Verdict: I’d go again for wine, meatballs, and dessert. It’s a shame that you need to order an entree for a restaurant.com gift certificate to work.
EDIT: Philadelphia Weekly went to C19 and had a similar experience!
Melograno, Radicchio Cafe, La Locanda del Ghiottone, oh my!
v & a say: Three very different Philly restaurants that fall under the same category – small/Italian/byob. Before continuing, we must reveal our bias with a disclaimer: La Locanda is our neighborhood go-to spot which is as inviting and quirky as the food is delicious. Everyone is welcomed with a poster of the late proprietor, Giuseppe’s, Green Card, which reads “I waited three years for my green card, you can wait an hour for your food.” In any event, the staff (read: the Italian-stallion from South Philly serving you), takes pride in the menu and directs you without hesitation or forced pleasantries. This no-frills, entertaining experience, always leaves you satisfied and is well worth the trip. And, if you can’t find anything on the rustic-Italian menu that strikes your fancy, then tell them what you want and they shall deliver. To start, try the antipasto sampler served with cheese, olives, and grilled veggies. Word to the wise, don’t even think about putting cheese on fish at this devout establishment. Oh, and in response to the many less-than-glowing online reviews of this restaurant: We can see how many may think the service is coarse – personally, we appreciate anyone who enables people to enjoy delicious food, byo libations, healthy portions, and, above all, do so with friends and family – but try to take it all in stride. Also, if you only have time for lunch and desire a little of what La Locanda (only open for dinner) has to offer, try its sister restaurant, Il Cantuccio, for a taste.
Radicchio Cafe and Melograno also provide environments where groups can meet and share Italian cuisine, though we would label Melograno’s as more ambitious. Whereas La Locanda can accommodate a more boisterous crowd, these two restaurants are for more “mature” groups. In terms of food, Melograno takes the cake. a and I both ordered fish specials at Radicchio Cafe and weren’t blown away by either. a was steered away from ordering the soup du jour by the waiter – you know it misses the mark if the waiter specifically tells you not to order something. We followed his recommendations and were still left unsatisfied. Of course, we can’t make judgments off of one visit and so, we’ll have to return and let you know what transpires. What a pity.
At Melograno we had a much different experience. d took us to dinner to celebrate one of the year’s many notable events. He ordered the Pappardelle Tartufate which, let’s just say, is the dish he keeps returning for, over and over and over. We both ordered dishes that left us satisfied, to the point where we didn’t have room for dessert. As with La Locanda, the Antipasto Rustico is a great dish to share. Melograno and La Locanda do not differ in terms of quality of food and ambiance; where distinctions can be made is in the overall experience and approach to the cuisine. Melograno is a modern, comfortable, sleek byo with a menu to match, whereas La Locanda is like eating at your Italian grandmother’s house, crucifix and all.
It’s impossible to fairly rank these restaurants without knowing who we would be sharing the meal with. What we can say is that Melograno and La Locanda are at the top. With a loud, boisterous crew, we would choose La Locanda. With a more subdued group and fussier palates, Melograno.
Bibou: Their Hanger Steak Reigns Supreme
t says: After a seemingly never-ending hiatus, we’re back!! And there’s tons to do. The problem is that the longer we’ve been away, the less I remember about the places we’ve been, so I guess I’d better get crackin!
6/2010, Sunday 9:30pm, Party of 2. Ahhh, Bibou. How we love thee. Not the least bit pretentious. Not super-spendy. No glitz or glam. Just good food. We had to choose one BYO for our anniversary dinner, and Bibou was our first choice. We had originally scheduled dinner there after the Idina Menzel concert at the Mann Center in Fairmount Park, but sensing that she would run late, we rescheduled to a Sunday. As a side note, Idina is absolutely silly … but we think it makes her awesome-er. Yea – and she can sing your socks off (the Philadelphia Orchestra was also great, too!).
We arrived at Bibou and were promptly seated. I forgot how small the place was. It didn’t matter – we wanted small. The waiter asked if we would like our wine, and, noting that it had already been opened (I wanted the wine to breathe some before we actually got to dinner), asked if I wanted it decanted any more. I had never had such an offer at a BYO. I kind of wanted to say yes just to test their wine service, but didn’t really want to draw attention to ourselves – after all – it is a small place.
The meal was their fixed price Sunday 4-course dinner.
The first was a chilled cauliflower soup. It was surprisingly good. No, it wasn’t super-complex, but it had a lightness despite being what appeared to be a creamy soup (maybe it was just a really smooth cauliflower puree). It was perfect for summer, and a great start to the meal.
For the second course, I went for the escargots and g went for the duck liver terrine. Yes, the escargot were as good as I remember. g was perfectly happy with the duck liver terrine, but confesses that it’s not the type of dish that she dreams about … Sorry we’re short on details for these two – but it’s because the next course was just too memorable …
We actually both ordered the same dish for the third course – there’s just something about the hanger steak that just KILLS IT. It has just the right balance of savory and herb. The asparagus reminded me of the asparagus omelettes my dad would make on Sunday morning breakfasts when we used to invite over the extended family. The potatoes were addictive. The meat had bite, but was tender, and, unlike at some places, was substantially large. g said she liked it even more than the steak served in Cochon’s steak-and-eggs brunch dish … and that’s a LOT.
I opted for the pistachio ice cream, while g had some sort of berry tart. Alone they were good. Together they were a perfect combination that lent an air of humility to the meal – it was like eating a warmed slice of pie with a scoop of ice cream … well, except better. Thus, the dessert was good, but not not quite Zahav-good. But with a meal that was so splendid overall, I really can’t complain. Somewhere in the meal Pierre Calmels came out to greet us. He seemed like such a nice guy. Of course, it would be hard to seem like a bad guy in the face of all of the praise that we were showering on him, but he humbly accepted our comments and wished us a happy anniversary. Indeed, it was a happy anniversary.
g says: i’d like to take a moment and recognize how delightful the tiny complimentary madeleines are at the end of the meal. they are about one-quarter the size of normal madeleines, but probably contain the same amount of butter… mmmm… a must-eat!
also, a note about pierre’s visit to our table — i was a little starstruck, i have to admit (i get that way sometimes, i just can’t help it! and it feels oh-so cool to have such an acclaimed chef offer us his personal attention) but i could barely understand a word he was saying through his thick french accent. it didn’t really matter, though, because every syllable was so dreamily smooth, i just stared at him smiling for most of the conversation. conclusion: i thought he was an impressively nice guy! t thought he was impressively tall…
GTC: Pasta Challenge
t says: We went to GTC again this past Friday as a follow-up to the last time we went. You see, last time, we went with a bottle of white and opted for some white-friendly dishes, vowing to go again to sample those items that escaped our wrath. This time, we went with a red and sought some red-friendly dishes. I’ll tell you right now: it was quite the tasty and educational experience.
6/2010, 5pm, Party of 2. We showed up with a bottle of Spanish red and went straight for the margherita pizza and the pappardelle with lamb ragu. The pizza was great – thin and delicious (and the red sauce wasn’t too sweet – hooray!). But forget about the pizza – let’s talk about the pasta. Now, this pasta dish had beautifully thin, wide, and al dente noodles. The lamb ragu was also cooked superbly, with plenty of soft shreds of lamb amidst a sauce that had some unique other ingredients (e.g. sunchoke). But, something was … missing. It seemed that the noodles and sauce were winners on their own – but there was something about the dish that was a little lacking. The pasta dish as a whole was not quite at the level of Melograno‘s pastas. I think it has to do with the way the pasta absorbs the sauce. At GTC, the pasta, itself, didn’t have much “taste” to it – it actually tasted just like plain pasta, thus, the pasta was a vehicle to transport sauce. Meanwhile, at Melograno, the pasta takes on the flavors in the sauce, meaning that every strand is preciously delicious. It was amazing to me how such a seemingly small difference could lead to such a large impact on the dish. Don’t get me wrong, though- we ate every last noodle, shred of meat, and drop of sauce (seriously – I used the table bread to search and destroy any drop of sauce that remained).
In conclusion, the meal was great, the service was great, and the price was kind. Yes, I am being overly critical about the pasta, but really, it was quite good overall!
Melograno: Oxtail Sadness
t says: I’m sure you’re tired of reading of Melograno, much like you’re tired of reading about Sampan. But, I think I have finally uncovered Melograno’s weakness (aside from the horrendous cheese plate we had on our first trip there some time ago).
5/2010, 8pm, Party of 3. On a recent visit with g and lc, I ordered the “special”: oxtail ravioli. It sounded like a surefire winner, as I love oxtail. Unfortunately, it was not. Despite the profoundly-beefy flavor that oxtail usually delivers, I barely tasted the oxtail at all – it was masked by a tsunami of herbs like basil and rosemary! For the record, a tsunami of herbs isn’t that bad, but when you’re expecting savory meat, fresh herbs is quite surprising. Additionally, there was supposed to be oxtail in the sauce, but I encountered not a single strand … strike 2! Then, I found that parts of the ravioli (where you’d pinch close the pouch) was a bit too firm … strike 3 – you’re outta there! Oh … and what’s this? An intact rosemary leaf to bite into and get stuck in my teeth, leading to mild discomfort and an overwhelming rosemary taste? Yea, that’s like hearing the home crowd’s yo’-mamma jokes as you walk back to the dug-out with your head bowed down in shame …
Of course, g’s wild boar pappardelle was perfection as usual, and lc’s carbonara was delicious (who could say no to pancetta?), so some things were going quite right. I guess even Melograno can turn out a flawed pasta dish.
g says: I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You still ate every last bit, even though you “weren’t that hungry”. Sheesh.
t says: <moment of silence to reconsider> I never said it was so awful I couldn’t eat it … just flawed.
By the way, our server for the night was the awesomest server at Melograno ever. He was very pleasant, didn’t mind giving us gratuitous amounts of bread, and suggested at the end of our meal that if we didn’t want their desserts, there was Capogiro right around the corner … and Melograno even offers gelato on the menu (for 50% greater cost)! I love the honesty – the only thing left for him to say would be, “whatever you do, don’t get our cheese plate”.
Melograno: Pasta Heaven … Again
t says: Last week was a pretty tough week at work, so g and I were in dire need of some Thursday excitement just to make it through to Friday. It was a beautiful day, and, although it was a bit windy, we were determined to sit outside. g suggested Melograno. I was hesitant given the number of other restaurants that were on our hit list – but when you’re in the mood for pasta done right, then you go to Melograno. As a matter of fact, when g had some out-of-town friends from the Big Apple come and visit Philly, she took them to Melograno. They were quite impressed and still bring up the meal every now and then.
5/2010, Thursday 7:30pm, Party of 2. Melograno was super-busy! I squeezed through to the hostess and asked for seating for a party of 2. As she was about to tell me an approximate wait-time, I said, “and we’re willing to sit outside!”. Done deal. A table was just being cleared, and I guess the other diners feared the wind. We took our seats, uncorked a bottle of red from Va La, and off we went!
The “pear carpaccio” was still on the menu, so we gave it a whirl. k had this before, and it looked so good! It involves thin slices of pear with an aged balsamic, toasted pine nuts, parmigiana reggiano, and micro-greens. It was quite an effective combination and reminded me that I need to start adding pine nuts to my salads at home. It was very good, but I do recall scrutinizing a forkful and saying out loud, “you know … we can do this”.
g and I then went for two pasta dishes that were both phenomenal. g went for the wild boar bolognese which came with a rich red sauce with overtones of pig and rosemary. The rosemary totally surprised me, but I guess had I read the menu, I would have known that rosemary was in the dish. In any case, it is no wonder g gets it all the time – it was delicious. I went for their “other” red pasta, the one featuring pancetta in a spicy red sauce with macaroni that were kind of like really thick rigatoni. The salty pancetta bits were like nice little surprise fireworks, cutting through the smooth heat of the sauce. The sauce was also curiously “creamy”? No, it wasn’t white, but I think the Pecorino came through and tricked my tongue into thinking the sauce was smooth and velvety. Oh, and the pasta … perfectly cooked … again.
Drawbacks? Well, g was satiated perfectly by the quantity given – she sneezed a few times (i.e. the meal was “sneeze-worthy”). I was also happy with mine but would have gladly eaten about 15% more. Of course, this also meant that I had room to go to Capogiro and get some of their strawberry and avocado gelatos … so there was a silver lining to the cloud. Man … if Melograno was $3-4 less expensive, we’d have to move because I’d make us poor by going there every day …
Cochon: The Pizza that Ruined Pizza for g
t says: Ok, yes, we’ve already been to Cochon for brunch multiple times (1 and 2). You’re tired of reading about it. I’m tired of writing about it. But this time was different. Every time we go, we tend to eat breakfast-y things. This time we went for lunch. It was a miserable Sunday, looking like it was going to rain at any moment, and g and I forgot to go grocery shopping, so there was no food in the house. We needed some … comfort … we needed some … pig.
4/2010, Sunday 2:30pm, Party of 2. Once again – no line. We made the opentable reservation only for the dining points – but we didn’t need it. The hostess/waitress recognized us. Might we be almost-regulars? We sat down, ordered some tea, and pondered the menu. I actually originally wanted pancakes, but decided, for the good of the blog, to try something new one last time. g was also game for this idea. We decided to try one pizza and one sandwich. Pulled pork shoulder sandwich, of course – why try anything else? Plus, we’ve been dying to try Percy Street BBQ, so this would give me a measuring stick when we go. For the pizza, g suggested tomato pie, but I vetoed it … unless she let me order a side of bacon. We compromised and got the “Flammenkuche”, a pizza featuring gruyere, carmelized onions, bacon, creme fraiche, and some kind of orange (in color, not flavor) sauce. What does “flammenkuche” mean? That waitress didn’t know, but suspects that the chef may have made it up. While I’m not sure I believe her, as Bistrot La Minette recently offered a dish by the same name, I totally dig her honesty. You know – I really hoped that the chef did just make it up.
The pulled pork sandwich was accompanied by a fennel slaw, pickled tomato, and french fries (with a few splatterings of hot sauce). The large mound of pork was nestled between two slices of brioche. Aha! The brioche! The object of much criticism from our last visit! And now I’d get the chance to taste it! The meat was fantastic. It was tender and juicy and shredded perfectly (the pieces weren’t too tiny, but they weren’t too big, either). The brioche bread was … interesting. You know – I can see why some people might not like it. I didn’t love it, but I didn’t think it was bad – at least – not for this sandwich. The bread is kind of dry and crumbly. It does soak up the flavor (and grease) from the pork, which I like. And when I bit into it, the bread’s texture rapidly disintegrates into crumbs which mixes evenly with the pork. I thought it was a very unique sandwich experience. BUT, as the main bread for a dish like Eggs Cochon, I can see how this could be a turn-off. I suspect in the sandwich, the brioche wasn’t a horrible mis-step, but definitely could be improved upon. Fortunately, it took a back seat to the pork, so all was well. The fennel slaw and pickle brought a nice lightness (some acid and some anise-flavor) to cut through the heavier, greasier pork. And the french fries were wonderful. I would have liked a slightly crispier fry, but g said those were among her most favorite fries, ever. I think she was just full of superlatives today …
g says: Oh hush, you know they were delish! Just because I like my fries different than you like yours doesn’t mean anything. Although, I may just have better taste… (haha!)
Now … the pizza …
g says: It was the best pizza ever.
t says: So, why don’t you write about how good it was?
g says: I did. “It was the best pizza ever.”
t says: Ok, so maybe g just doesn’t have the words to describe the pizza, but the woman knows what she loves. I liked it as well, but I’m not sure it’s the best pizza ever; I feel like it falls into the same category as Pepe’s Pizza – it was a super-delicious pizza-like “thing”. The crust hit just the right thickness between too-thin and too-thick. It also wasn’t too floppy/rubbery, either. The onions were sweet, and the cheese and bacon played so nicely with one another. I’m not sure what that orange sauce had in it, but it brightened up the pizza, giving it just a dash of whimsy for what would otherwise be a very “heavy” dish. But ultimately, it does lack tomato sauce or tomatoes, so it’s disqualified from the “best pizza” competition on a technicality in my book (g’s book is written differently). Ultimately, it makes me really want to try more of their breakfast pizzas.
g says: It’s true – that particular dish was balanced so delicately with salty, sweet, and smoky flavors (or flavours, as t would say). For this reason, and because the culinary stars aligned at that exact moment to give me the best pizza tasting experience possible, I decided right at that table something very important: pizza would be ruined for me. I just can’t look at it the same anymore – pizza is so pedestrian, so just pizza, now that I have tasted the glory of the flammenkuche. I fear that whenever I have a pie now, I will only be thinking of what it could be if it were made at Cochon with their bacon. ::looks in the air dreamily:: Sigh. (dramatic enough for you? I hear some of our readers really like drama…)
t says: Once again, we paid as much (g: actually, less I think) as we would have for one person during restaurant week. We were full for 8 hours. We’ll go back again and again.
cm says: Flammenkuche is not just at cochon, it is an option we saw at dock street brewery (great pizza there, i would recommend trying it, even k liked it
and she is not a pizza fan).
after dinner sneeze 