Parc - New Bistro from Steven Starr

What?!? Huh?!? Sorry, I really can't hear you, my ears are still ringing from dinner at Parc, the new bistro on Rittenhouse Square. Of course bistros and brasseries are usually bustling places, but this one is ridiculous. It's a lovely space, carefully reconstructing the romantic notion of the classic Parisian dining establishments, with lots of tile, interrupted only by wood and glass, mottled mirrors, ceiling fans, and light fixtures that imply they might have been switched-over from gas. It feels very authentic, evoking a place like Brasserie Lipp in Paris, more of a see-and-be-seen power spot than a casual neighborhood favorite.

But I've been in some bistros and brasseries in Paris, and in lots of places seeking to imitate that style in the states, and I've never encountered one so deafeningly loud. It's not really a surprise, it's a big space that seats lots of people, constructed with lots of reflective surfaces. But wow, something needs to be done, or I'm only going back when the place is almost empty. A little buzz and energy is desirable in a place like this, but when you can't hear your dining partners, it makes it hard to relax and enjoy your meal.

The menu is generally very authentic in both content and design, offering all the classics: raw seafood plateaux, escargots, ontion soup, Lyonnaise salad, steak frites, roast chicken, duck confit, skate Grenobloise, etc.

The staff was very nice, and service was generally very good, especially considering the place had only been open a few days when we went. We only had one problem with service, and that was that the ceiling fans were cranked up so high that we had a strong cold wind on our table, enough that it kept blowing out our candle. More problematic was that it was insta-chilling our food. A manager promised to fix it, but nothing changed and we never saw him again.

That same manager was very helpful when we got a very weird, funky glass of wine. He was very prompt and professional about pouring a replacement and making sure that it was OK. As it turns out, it is a very odd Shiraz in any condition, but that first glass we got was sour and acrid, even more than it was intended to be. The replacement, apparently from a new bottle, was still odd, but significantly better, and they handled the situation well.

One outright rave: the bread is excellent. We loved the baguettes, and liked the heartier, darker bread too. When we first asked for bread (it may have been coming anyway, but we were impatient... ) we got a fairly modest selection, which we powered-through in about 35 seconds.

Shortly afterward, we snagged someone walking by the table and asked for more, and to her credit, her response was "I'll make sure that happens" not "I'll find your waiter" or some other evasion. And indeed, a very short time later, we got a much more generous basket.

I'm only a little embarrassed to say that we came pretty close to finishing all that.

We also thought the charcuterie was very good.
There's prosciutto under the salami, and what I think was duck prosciutto on top of that, all of which were delicious. The country pate and duck rillettes were both quite pleasant, but the unexpected star might have been the chicken liver mousse, which was creamy and airy and intense all at once. Extra points for good cornichons and pickled onions.

On the down side:
The majority of our food was only good - which is to say not at all bad, but not exactly thrilling either, and we're the kind of weirdos that actually do get thrilled by a good steak frites, or a perfectly roasted chicken.

The Lyonnaise Salad was decent, I'd probably get it again, but it was missing a little spark, I think mostly in the dressing, it needed a little more bite, or intensity or something.

I didn't get a good photo of the escargots, but they too were good, but not transcendent. I liked the garlicky sauce soaked up with the nicely-toasted rusks, and the snails were tender, but didn't taste like much themselves. I suspect we're still pining for the Pif snails, and these are a different style, which may be an unfair comparison. Regardless, overall good, but not a must-order.

The frites that accompany the steak are excellent, crisp and tender. The hanger steak itself had a good solid beefy flavor, but that was about it. The compound butter was pretty subtle, and relatively sparse, and there was not much of a sauce, if any, maybe just juices. It just wasn't as vivid as it should be. This dish at Starr's previous bistro Blue Angel was not much different in composition, but tasted WAY better.

My picture of the roast chicken didn't turn out all that well, which seems oddly appropriate, because it tasted kind of blurry too. The texture was not good at all, it had a mushy, mealy feel that I can only assume comes from brining. I can't imagine what else would to that to a chicken. The flavor was a bit muted too, helped along somewhat by a rich sauce, but an ideal roast chicken shouldn't need that.

The lamb was delicious, one of our favorite things all night. This dish, probably because it was sliced, suffered most under the fans, or maybe it wasn't all that hot coming out of the kitchen, but we can only imagine that it would have been even more delicious hot. The polenta that comes with this (which we asked for on the side) was very good. If I had any complaint, it would be that the sauces on everything seemed a litle too similar, as if there were one huge pot simmering back in the kitchen labeled "Le Sauce."


The duck confit had good flavor, but was just too dry for my taste. I've it like this often enough that I feel like it might be a style, not a mistake. But if so, it's not my favorite version. The duck confit at Standard Tap, or one we got as part of a tasting menu at Matyson were much more tender and moist, while still gaining that concentrated flavor from the preservation process. Again, not bad, just not something that I would return for.

So overall, I'm just not sure what to make of this place. This style of food isn't really that hard to make, I've been quite happy with meals I've had at other modern recreations of bistros, including Balthazar in NY, Brasserie Jo in Chicago, Jeanty at Jack's in San Francisco, Blue Angel here in Philly, and at Paris bistros so small and undistinguished that I didn't bother noting their names. So I don't think we're holding this place to an impossible standard, it just left us a little cold, in a few senses of the word.

I wouldn't hesitate to go back some time at an off-hour and have some bread, the charcuterie platter, and try some more from the menu. People I trust say the Onion Soup is very good. But I might have to sit outside, or avoid a table anywhere near a ceiling fan. Of course, it is early days, and some of these things, like temperature control, might be still in the process of being worked-out. I hope so - I like the look and feel, it's got the kind of food I'd love to eat on a regular basis, and the prices are not totally out of line. We'll see...

Underground Cassoulet Parties

I'm not sure that this has quite risen to the status of a widespread trend, but it ought to...

A year ago I managed to wangle an invite to an annual tradition maintained by a couple of Francophiles here in Philly. Each winter, they'd invite friends over to share a few pots of traditional French Cassoulet, built partly on authentic ingredients smuggled back from trips to France. The requisite Tarbais beans are hard to find around here, as are various components of accompanying dishes. But the magic comes not from clandestine ingredients, but from the love and skill of the chefs/hosts, who've perfected the ideal cold-weather dish.

So I was thrilled to be invited back this year, and this time the attendees pitched-in a bit more, bringing a prepared dish, or bread, or greens for the salad, or cheese, or dessert. I think everyone brought wine, and we drank most of it... We even deviated a bit from the theme of country French food, but everything we had was so good, nobody seemed to care.

The ranks swelled past 20 this year, requiring the addition of some satellite tables and borrowed chairs, so I'm not sure I can give readers too much hope of joining-in next year, but you never know... or better yet, use this as an inspiration to start your own secret cassoulet party, soon it could indeed be a burgeoning fad!

As we were arriving we nibbled on Indian crunchies called Sarya:





Andrew made Duck Prosciutto, which was so good that we don't believe him when he says it was pretty simple.


Sam made Blini, which we weren't exactly sure what to do with, I think one of us was going to bring caviar... maybe it was me... yikes! But they were pretty good under a piece of duck prosciutto, or dipped in some baba ghanoush.


There was a little confusion about bread.

Pedro had already volunteered to bring Sarcone's, but as much as I love that bread, I felt an overwhelming need for something a little more Gallic. Plus we had 20 people, we'd need a lot of bread. I think between the two of us, we over-did it.

I figured I'd use this as an excuse to make a field trip up to Souderton to check out a bakery I'd heard good things about. So I got 6 baguettes and a couple of Epis from Bakers on Broad.

The bread was pretty good, but I'm not sure I liked it enough to justify the drive all the way out there. I actually enjoyed the croissant and the olive roll that I got quite a lot, so maybe I'm just not completely blown-away by the baguettes. They're not bad, but I think I still prefer Artisan Boulanger Patissier down at 12th and Passayunk.


Speaking of South Philly, the Sarcone's bread was fantastic.



We made another little cultural detour before plunging into the cassoulet. Percy had volunteered to bring a traditional Parsi dish, consisting of fish steamed with herbs in a banana leaf.

We have learned to never turn down Percy's cooking if he's doing Parsi specialties. Actually, it doesn't really matter what he's cooking, we never refuse Percy's food. This was so ridiculously delicious that we don't believe him when he says it's pretty simple.



So, you know the routine? If Percy offers to cook for you, don't ask questions, just say yes.

And then, at last, the main event: Cassoulet! I don't think chef Sam made any claims of this being simple, we know it takes several days and many steps to prepare the multiple types of beans, the pork bellies, the lamb shanks, the various sausages, and 18 (!) duck legs, cured and preserved in classic confit style. Finally, everything is carefully assembled, then baked in two huge Le Creuset "French Ovens." And we sincerely thank him for the effort, it was warming, comforting, delicious food done perfectly. The beans were tender but not mushy, the meats tender too, and rich without being fatty. Each element had a characteristic flavor, yet all had baked together, each essence amplifying the other.

Earlier in the evening, when we first arrived, it smelled amazing, I'm surprised there weren't passers-by banging on the doors, begging for a plate of whatever it was they were smelling. Inside, it was even better.




After all that richness, a salad was just the thing. Dave brought some pristine frisée, which Sam dosed with a light dressing: mostly good walnut oil and a little mustard.


We were all pretty insanely stuffed by this time, but there is a second main even at these dinners: Sam's Tarte Tatin:


Well, to be accurate, there were three of them, but shockingly enough, we only made it through two.

I have no doubt that there's more in his repertoire, but the fact that Sam has so thoroughly mastered both cassoulet and tarte tatin is pretty impressive.

So it didn't occur to any of us to refuse, regardless of how full we were. Somehow each of us found room for a slice of this upside-down apple pie. It was worth risking exploding from overeating, the bright apple flavor, accented by just the right amount of caramelization, atop a short pastry crust was just the right ending for this meal.

Oh, right, except we weren't quite done... Karen, Carl and Diann had brought cheese.

A Cheddar-Bleu and Telford Tomme from Hendrick's Farm along with a Comte and Brie from Downtown Cheese were barely touched, but most of us did sample a tiny bit. The unusual cheddar-bleu seemed to be the hit.

Along the way there was a rather scandalous amount of wine consumed, and a few postprandial eaux-de-vie were sampled as well.


So, if you happen to know a couple of Francophiles that have seemed suspiciously over-full lately, you really should try to wangle an invite from them. For thier own protection, I'll refrain from identifying them TOO clearly here! If you happen to be wandering the streets of Philly about this time next year, and smell something amazing wafting from a kitchen exhaust, you might just want to knock on the door, see if you can guess the password to the cassoulet speakeasy.

Or you could just arrange your own, but if you do, word to the wise: keep it secret, or the guest list can get out of hand pretty quickly!

Major thanks to our clandestine hosts, I hope we can do it all again next year!

National Pig Day at Cochon

March One was National Pig Day, and although the Queen Village BYOB called Cochon (french for "pig") wasn't offering anything special to mark the occasion, we decided it was the best place to have our own impromptu celebration. We tried a few of theirspecials that night, including fried oysters, sweetbreads, pork croquette, pork shank and quail. It was all quite tasty, with a few standouts.

Seared Scallops (with spinach rather than the usual frisée, by request.)


Pork Croquettes, Blood Sausage


Fried Oysters


Grilled Sweetbreads


Pork Shank


Pork Shoulder





Steak Frites


Quail with Foie Gras and Truffle


The oysters had a light, airy crunch, and a creamy, juicy interior. The sweetbreads were smooth and delicate, with a slight smoky crust from the grill. The pork shank was tender, with a nice caramelized exterior, the bite of mustard and cabbage offsetting any residual fat. Quail stuffed with foie and truffles, what could be better? Oh, right, put it on a potato pancake!

I'm eager to find some other vague excuse to head down there and feast, and soon...

Tasting Menu at Cochon

A few weeks ago, we talked the folks at Cochon into doing a tasting menu for us. We told the chef to do whatever he felt like, and we ended up with a fascinating meal, with lots of offal and other unusual ingredients, but which proved to be diverse and most importantly, delicious throughout.



Head Cheese

This was very meaty, and not nearly as gelatinous as I expected. With the peppery greens and tangy sauce, the flavors really jumped out beautifully.

Pig Snout Ravioli

The pasta had a creamy, flavorful filling, which contrasted nicely with the vivid broth, which had a little kick of spice. The crunchy, chewy strips (of ear?) provided another pleasing edge.

Grilled Sweetbreads
lardons, frisee, haricots verts, brown butter vinaigrette

These might be the best non-crispy sweetbreads I've ever had, and rank pretty high for sweetbreads in general. The texture was creamy, but not gooey, with none of the pasty quality one sometimes gets. The acidic and bitter nature of the salad offset the richness of the sweetbreads perfectly. There was a bit of variation among the plates, some getting mostly hefty traditional bacon lardons, others getting more strips of sweet ham. The salty worked a little better than the sugary, but in either case, the porky overtone was quite complimentary.

Tongue stew
capers, conichons, tomato sauce

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this dish was significantly lighter than I had anticipated. The meat was fork tender, subtly-flavored, and nicely paired with the tomato sauce and salty accents.

Roasted Berkshire Pork Belly
fava chick pea ragoût and house-cured guanciale

It may have been roasted at some point, but it was clearly finished in the deep-frier, lending it a bubbly texture and crunch. The fat layers had rendered-down nicely, so while it was not exactly lean, it was not a total fat-bomb. OK, it kind of was, but in a good way... The beans and crunchy pork jowl were good too.

Heritage Pork Loin
blood sausage, sauerkraut, riesling whole grain mustard sauce

At this point we'd had SO much food that we probably could have skipped this one altogether and gone home happy, so I'm not sure any of us can assess this course properly. It was pretty good, and I think I might like it as an entrée some night, not as part of a tasting menu. Smoked and cured a bit, the meat had a firm texture and assertive flavor that was offset well by the kraut and the mustard. I feel like the blood sausage got a little lost in this setting, but again, it could be that my palate was just pretty burnt... I think a small portion of this might have been perfect early in the meal, perhaps alongside the headcheese.

Overall, the portions were pretty ridiculously large, and the chef knew it, but couldn't help himself!

Pain Perdu
bacon ice cream, maple creme anglaise


Somehow we managed to find some room for dessert. What, you thought we were going to turn down bacon ice cream?!? The pain perdu was more like deep-fried bread pudding than french toast, but had the requisite crisped-up custardy bread thing going on. The bacon component of the ice cream was subtle, but definitely there, and the maple brought it all together in a disorienting zone of sweet/salty/creamy/brunch/dessert. I'm completely in favor of that kind of confusion.

As I think the photos show, the food was significantly more varied than just reading the menu might suggest. Everything was quite tasty, and well-prepared. If I have any complaints it's that the portions were too big!

We're hoping to get chef Giuffi to do something like this again for us, but in the meantime, we're hapy with the regular menu and daily specials, which are not too different from what we got on the special tasting menu.

Pif night at Ansill

Update: Ansill has closed.  It has been replaced by Ela. 

There was much gnashing of teeth when chef David Ansill closed his tiny BYOB called Pif. It had been a reliable source of hearty, un-fussy French food, from garlicky escargots to pigs trotters to an inexplicably delicious steak.

The chef had opened a second place, Ansill at 3rd and Bainbridge streets, and chose to concentrate on that location, offering creative small-plates as well as a full bar. But responding to the almost immediate nostalgia for Pif, he's found a good compromise: Pif nights on sundays. He offers a traditional Pif menu, and even allows BYOB with no corkage.

We went recently and had:
Steamed Mussels


Escargots "au pif"


Pumpkin Ginger Soup


Mixed greens with Duck Leg Confit


Pork Chops with White Bean Ragu


Quail with Port


Sweetbreads with Truffle Coulis


Chocolate Fondant


Financier


Chestnut Mousse


So, was it just like the old days? Not quite... The food was pretty good, we'd probably be impressed with it at any other place, but it didn't quite capture the intensity and transcendence of the food at Pif. The escargots were well-prepared, but the sauce was not as vividly flavored. Porkchops had good flavor, but seemed somehow pedestrian. I had a bit of sweetbreads that was quite nice, but another diner at our table was not pleased. My quails were a little overcooked, but were actually nonetheless quite delicious. In a nice twist at the end, all the desserts were excellent.

So, not bad but the dinner didn't quite capture that Pif magic. That said, we'll try again, and we'll encourage others to, it was close...