Posts Tagged ‘Philadelphia’
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”.
Percy Street BBQ: sr-Approved
t says: My dad is is quite tough to please when it comes to food. Well … kinda. He’s actually quite easy to satisfy with foods of all kinds (there are notable exceptions – but I won’t share them – they’re like his kryptonite), but in terms of going to foodie-approved restaurants, it’s hard to find a place that he’d actually want to go to. The first difficulty is that he doesn’t need glitz and glamour in his food; he’s a manly man with manly man tastes. Shmears of sauces on plates with intricate layering of shrimp and gold leaf so they perfectly resemble the Mona Lisa don’t really matter … well … maybe if the food somehow resembled a Philadelphia Eagles logo or something like that, it might. He’d be just as happy with a pile of buffalo wings as some truffle-infused-this or foie-gras-that (actually, I’m sure he’d prefer the wings). Second, he’s a manly man with a manly man appetite. For places like Melograno, while we’re sure he’d enjoy the food, we know that he would definitely require two entrees just to get rid of his hunger, much less get full. This leads us to a corollary of the second reason: getting two entrees costs double the money. Our grandfather cut down our money tree (inside joke), so getting two entrees (or suggesting that he eat a pre-dinner burger from McDonald’s) is a bit much.
g and I have been racking our brains for a while to find an sr-worthy eatery in Philly. First – it had to have good-tasting food. Sure, Tony Luke’s is great for cheesesteaks, but we wanted a real sit-down place to eat. We also kind of wanted it to be somewhat “cool” or “hip” – not just a dive hidden somwhere in South Philly. We wanted a sizable portion of food for under $25, which is what we often deem as the max we’re willing to pay for food unless we’re celebrating something. And if there was some way that he could use his fingers (without anyone minding that he’d be using his fingers), that’d be icing on the cake. Well – one such restaurant does exist: Percy Street BBQ.
The short version (because we’ve already been there once) …
5/2010, Saturday 6:30pm, Party of 4. g, j, sr, and I all went to Percy Street for dinner. After scrutinizing the menu, and doing some fancy calculations (i.e. counting on our fingers), we decided that the wisest decision was to do the Lockhart. We went all in. It. Was. Awesome. Each of the meats had its own shtick. The sausage and chicken had smokey flavors unlike I had ever tasted in sausage or chicken. The pork belly was spot on [again]. j liked the brisket. And there’s not a person alive who can resist ribs – it almost doesn’t matter what they taste like. At the very least, the sides were “good” or “solid” (e.g. cole slaw, black-eyed peas) – but the baked beans and chilis showed the most flavor. Somehow, we still managed to forget to get the cornbread – darn. Percy Street also debuted a new bbq sauce – it was their sweet version. I think we all felt it was too sweet, but it was much better when you mixed it with the Louisiana hot sauce. The regular bbq sauce was pretty good (although we realize that bbq sauce tastes vary widely among people), but we know we have to go back when they get their spicy bbq sauce going (apparently they’re still figuring it out).
The desserts were completely new to us, as the last time we went, we didn’t have room. While two of us had the root beer floats, g ventured the red velvet cake, and I went for the ice cream sandwich. The red velvet cake was pretty good – not as moist as Isgro’s, but very nice; the “homemade” cream cheese icing was the star of that dish. The ice cream sandwich was awesome. It had crunchy chocolate cookies with a raspberry ice cream – very nice (although g was looking for the classic soft cookie-esque thing that is on normal ice cream sandwiches). Nothing like ice cream to wash down some bbq – I wish it had a bit more ice cream, however.
In the end, we think sr liked it quite a bit. He liked how open the restaurant was. He liked glass vessels that you could order beer in. And the price wasn’t too bad, either – considering that all of us were most definitely full … even him.
Good job Percy Street. Now if only you had something for mom, too …
GTC: We found GTC’s Achilles Heel
t says: In the world of Garces restaurants, we like GTC a lot. It’s a fun concept that reminds us a little of Talula’s Table, but with slightly heftier/fancier lunch options available; you can get good food without having to do the whole formal sit-down thing – which is great. And, as far as the food is concerned, I think between our experience, and k and cm’s experience (k and cm fully approve of the vichyssoise and flatbreads as well as the ability to pick up a nice, inexpensive bottle of wine), we haven’t yet found something wrong with GTC. I even bought a mess of their desserts for an Easter celebration, and they were all delicious – g’s mom said that their lemon tart has the best lemon substance she’s ever had! That’s some serious praise.
Well … today we may have stumbled upon GTC’s weakness. It all started when I saw scones while waiting in the checkout line. They were peach-ginger-cranberry. It sounded promising. I started having visions of the lemon-ginger scones at Talula’s Table, which makes the best scones that g and I have ever had. Could it be possible that these are even half as good as those? I could get a scone fix without going to Kennett Square? If anyone could do it, surely Garces could, right? I ordered it on a whim and g fed it to me in the car as we made our getaway.
The result: salty. That’s right – the scone was salty. It actually reminded us of the time we made David Chang’s Momofuku shortbread biscuits, but used Morton’s kosher salt in lieu of Diamond Crystal brand – it was ridiculously salty. g pointed out that she hit some sweet sections that were less salty and very delicious, so perhaps it was a mixing issue, and not a salt level issue. In any case, I really couldn’t taste much of the peach, which was sad. Cranberry was the biggest non-salt thing I could taste, but the bits of cranberry were more like Craisins than actual cranberries, so they were a bit tough to chew. The cake was also a little dry, so maybe it was sitting out for too long (although we’ve had day-old Talula’s scones on several occasions without a problem). Well, I hope that Jose fixes this problem soon (as I’m sure he’s an avid reader of “the sneeze”). Then again, it’s not like if he didn’t fix it that I wouldn’t go to GTC … I just won’t get the scones, cuz everything else we’ve had is awesome.
Mixto: Great Potatoes
t says: We got together at Mixto this past weekend with a fairly large group of friends. They take reservations and have ample space to handle such large groups, so we figured it’d be a safe bet; we were also far closer to Mixto than Cochon, ruling out a trip to my favorite pancakes. We’ve been to Mixto at least once before – if we’ve gone more than once, I’ve forgotten. In any case, I distinctly remember their croissant French toast, which were quite tasty (how can you go wrong if you start off with a croissant? Dunkin’ Donuts and Burger King have been relying on croissants for years), although small in serving size, so I was pumped to try something else.
5/2010, Sunday 12:30pm, Party of ?12?. We arrived and were seated promptly. There was some snafu with the table we were seated at and the number of people we had coming (g and I were last minute add-ons … oops!), so we had to be reseated at a larger table. I appreciate their ability to “roll with the punches” on a fairly busy Sunday. As we sat and got reacquainted with our friends, I perused the menu. Would I go for the pancakes? That’s the natural move, as last time I had the French toast. But, in my head, I doubted whether they’d stack up against Cochon’s, which is a tall order to fill. So, instead of set myself up for disappointment, I went for a g-dish: steak and eggs. Now, Mixto claims that theirs is “Argentinian steak and eggs”, so I was excited to taste something a little different. I ordered and “patiently” (i.e. looked longingly) at servers holding trays, hoping that one would carry my steak and eggs.
When my dish arrived, my nostrils were filled with the beautiful smell of beef and potatoes. It was a manly smell – the kind that puts hair on your chest … well – the kind that smells good and puts hair on your chest. The portion of beef looked substantial (vs. what I had seen a friend recently enjoy at Parc) and the potatoes were golden brown. The two perfectly over-easy eggs stared at me, like a deer in headlights; they knew what was coming … and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
I then sliced into the beef … or at least, I tried. It was a little more resistant to cutting then I had hoped – a combination of the knife’s fault (it was fairly blunt) and the meat being a little over-done; I ordered medium-well, but there was not a trace of pink in sight (as a general rule, I save medium and medium-rare for places that either specialize in steak or have small enough volume to ensure consistency coming out of the kitchen). The beef was seasoned well, but its toughness dampened my spirits. I also didn’t really taste a whole lot of bold flavors or anything to justify the tag “Argentinian” (I actually had no idea what flavors make something Argentinian, so I was looking for anything).
The potatoes, on the other hand, were delicious. They had a little crust but were soft and moist the whole way through, just how I like my morning potatoes. Bravo!
There was also a side salad that was little more special than a side salad. A friend of ours swears by the dressing that accompanies the salad, but compared to great salads like kp’s spinach-and-pancetta salad or g’s super-summer-special salads, it really didn’t stand out. It did however add much needed vegetal zing to an otherwise heavy dish – so I was happy it was there.
g had the huevos rancheros, another classic g-dish. She seemed satisfied with it, but it was a little more deconstructed than she had had the last time she was there, so it didn’t sing quite as harmoniously. That said, she did eat it all, so I’m sure it was fine (I had a taste – it was fine) … just not fine enough for her to rave, “hey – you have got to try this”.
In summary, outside the overcooking of the beef, I don’t have any problems with Mixto. I think that the food is “good”. But I think that in the future, I’ll mostly think of going to Mixto because of their ability to accommodate a group, not because I’m looking for mind-blowing food. But when you have friends, who needs mind-blowing food? Mind-blowing food doesn’t drink a mojito, get an Asian flush, and then state emphatically at the top of its lungs: “most men do NOT do yoga”.
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 