e a t e r y R O W

NOBLE AMERICAN COOKERY
2025 Sansom Street
Philadelphia, PA 19103
(215) 268-7000

My second notable meal in Philadelphia came after a jazz concert on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Bro, Dudeman and Shrink piled into Bro's car and headed off to the Rittenhouse Square district, which feels like a cross between Gramercy Park and the West Village. In truth, most of Philadelphia feels like a smaller scale version of New York City only with more colonial stuff peppered in. Once we found a parking space, we found the restaurant I was looking for. Our meal at City Tavern highlighted our status as tourists. Real Philadelphians wouldn't eat there any more than real New Yorkers would eat at Tavern On The Green (R.I.P.), Katz's Deli or Pastis. But I digress. We, by which I mean I, chose Noble American Cookery, a small plates restaurant on a street crowded with food and drink options... including a whiskey-centric bar that Bro pointed out that we didn't have time to go to, damnitall.

We sat upstairs on a relatively light night, though the downstairs was lively. This is a bit surprising in retrospect. The food is expensive by almost any standard, but it's so good. Save your pennies, Philadelphia. Save your pennies. Our waiter was clearly passionate about the menu, a rarity in any restaurant, but a good sign. If the staff is gushing about the dedication that goes into each dish, you can bet that the chef does as well. Nice wine and beer list, too.

A cursory look at the menu would make most people think "ah, this ain't too bad", but don't kid yourself. That $15 fish dish is microscopic. When Noble calls itself a small plates restaurant it means it. There is a three course, chef's choice option for $45 and I suggest that you go for it. We, instead chose two dishes each and left a little hungry, despite having had a late (4:30pm) lunch. Bro ordered the Chilled Green Sorrel Soup, a cold soup made from cream and pureed sorrel leaves. I don't usually care for cold soups, but I really liked this one. Very smooth, like... cream. Slightly bitter, but sweet and, after a lot of walking in the Philadelphia humidity, very refreshing. Dudeman ordered the Bibb Lettuce Salad, bibb lettuce, peas, cucumber, pickled camps and a miso-mayo dressing. It was fine. It's a salad. He liked it. I thought it reminded me of salad. Shrink's appetizer was the Peekytoe Crab, a microscopic cylindrical of diced crab over a dollop of rhubarb compote. Don't me wrong, it was delicious, but small and super light. A small breeze will blow away all of your food, and even if you eat it, you'll be hungry. My first course actually came from Noble's "second course" menu and I chose something heavy. To be fair, the waiter did warn us of the small portions. So this was strategy on my part. I ordered the Gnocchi Parisienne, tater tot sized gnocchi under a light creamy cheese sauce with sauteed asparagus. The gnocchi was like heaven. So amazingly good that I felt guilty only being able to offer everybody only one of them. But any more and I'd have been out of food. Even this far heavier dish was light. Though maybe I'm just a fat slob used to over-sized Olive Garden portions. But I don't think that's the case.

The second courses were larger, but only by a fraction. Bro ordered the Wild Rock Bass, a firm but malleable, slightly gamey, but very good piece of bass wrapped in Serrano, atop (three sprigs of) asparagus. Dudeman ordered the Cobia Loin, also a dense white fish, in Korean barbecue sauce with fava beans, grapefruit and wild ramps. Ramps are like a cross between leek and garlic. You can find them growing in the woods of the Hudson Valley, which is where I went picking for some last year. The chef may well have bought these from the son of the woman I went picking with. Shrink ordered the Grilled Spanish Rock Octopus with squid ink crochettas in a blood orange and caper dressing. I didn't eat any. She likes octopus in general and loved this dish. But there was simply too little food to really be able to share between four people. These three most recently described plates were all from the "second course" menu. My second course, however, came from the "third course" menu and, as such, was slightly larger than everyone else's. I ordered the Painted Hills Sirloin Flap Steak. It was insane. A dark au jus with garlic and spinach, this was the most "traditional" of plates and was my favorite of the evening.

Although still hungry, we ended up only ordering two dishes each. Bro wanted to take us to a gelato place he knew of down the block. I would return joyfully, and suggest you do the same. But expect to order at least three dishes here. And bring your wallet. And bring your patience. The wait for the food can be inordinately long. I chalk that up to freshness.

Eight small plates dishes and a round of beers, plus tax and tip came to $190.

CITY TAVERN
138 South Second Street
Philadelphia, PA 19106
(215) 413-1443

I arrived by train at Philadelphia's 30th Street Station to meet the fam for a little trip through the City of Brotherly Love. See, Bro has moved there and, couple that with some existing vacation time, we all decided to converge there and spend a long weekend wandering (side note: Bro threatens to create his own Philly food blog, link to follow should it ever happen). After a wee bit of debate, the decision was to try out City Tavern, a restaurant in the Old City neighborhood that specializes in colonial-era cooking and which traces its roots to the days when it fed the Founding Fathers.

In a very real sense, City Tavern is a theme restaurant. Just the way that Jekyll & Hyde is like eating in a haunted house, and Rainforest Cafe is like eating in a jungle, and Planet Hollywood is like eating in the cafeteria of a Madame Tussaud's, City Tavern is like eating in 1785. The staff dress in colonial-style clothing, the water goblets are faux-pewter, tall candles decorate the table, it's dark because there isn't any lighting, the food and even the beer is largely based on recipes from the colonial-era, and there isn't any music. Someone was playing a piano at one point, but not for very long. This lends an eerie silence to the place, as everyone tries to talk in a whisper to prevent other patrons from listening in.

For an appetizer, Dudeman ordered the Crab Cakes "Chesapeake Style" with an herbed remoulade dipping sauce. These were very good. Creamy, loaded with crab instead of bread. Easily, it was the best thing of anything we ordered on the menu this evening. Unfortunately, that means that everything else wasn't as impressive. And so it was with the Mallard Duck Sausage, a duck and pork sausage over sweet and sour cabbage. While Bro liked it, finding that the sausage was well spiced and flavorful, I found it pretty bland and in dire need of the cabbage. My appetizer was the Giant Cornmeal Fried Oysters, and they were indeed giant. They were decent, deep fried and, coated with some tartar sauce, not bad. But nothing better than I could have gotten at any one of a dozen pubs for less money. Shrink ordered the Mushroom Barley Soup and, when I asked what she thought, she replied "it's salty mushroom barley soup".





Bro ordered the Roasted Duckling in a clover honey glaze with chutney, herbed barley, zucchini and asparagus, again, he won out with best entree. The glaze, while a little thick, worked well with the duck, which wasn't fatty in the least. The steamed vegetables were fine and clearly barley was the go-to side of the time. Dudeman went with the Medallions of Venison in a rosemary bourbon sauce with herbed barley, leek and vegetables. He found it gamey and that's not surprising for venison. As we passed the dish around, everyone just sort of nodded their assent. A venison stew. No more, no less. My dinner was the Tenderloin Tips & Mushrooms, beef cubes over egg noodles in a mushroom cream sauce. If you have ever had beef Stroganoff, then you've had this. All that they changed was the name. Don't get me wrong, I like beef Stroganoff. But by the third bite I was literally bored. Shrink's Braised Rabbit in a mushroom vegetable red wine sauce, also over egg noodles was too heavy on the wine sauce, so you could barely taste the rabbit.






My dessert was a Chocolate Mousse Cake based on a recipe by Martha Washington. It was very smooth, very creamy. Not bad. But it wasn't as good as the Apple Cobbler that Bro ordered (again, besting me), though it came with a cinnamon ice cream that I didn't much care for. Mostly this was because the cobbler was already cinnamony and it made the spice too prominent.



I feel like City Tavern is the kind of place that a tourist to Philadelphia might go to after having visited the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall and so forth. It can wrap up the whole colonial experience before moving on to the more modern things that the city has to offer. But I can't envision going here again personally, and I don't see City Tavern a restaurant that would be appealing to anyone who isn't here as a tourist.

Four appetizers, four entrees, four coffees, two desserts and some drinks came to $ after tax and tip.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

FIG & OLIVE
10 East 52nd Street
New York, NY 10022
(212) 319-2002

Fig & Olive sits centered at the crossroads of between the midtown corporate district and the midtown hotel district, perfectly located to grab both sets of people looking to spend money, but maybe not go nuts about it. (There are two other locations in NYC, both also in midtown, also located to grab the same clientele.) Since I work in midtown and had relatives coming into town for a few days. This seemed like the perfect place to meet.

Fig & Olive could probably be put in the "Mediterranean Fusion" category, if such a category existed. Think of it as a random assortment of all that is Mediterranean but with a modern twist. Their theme, if one could call it a theme since it's really more of a gimmick, is that they use olive oil in everything that they make. This isn't quite the feat it might appear since I'm pretty sure that all Mediterranean food is required by law to use olive oil in one way or another. Hell, at L'arte de Gelato I've had olive oil gelato (fantastic) and the ancient Romans used olive oil instead of soap. Olive oil is a far from rare ingredient in the cultures surrounding that body of water. The real trick would have been to use figs in every dish. But I digress.

Fig & Olive is two large floors and it needs all the space it can get if the day we ate there is any indication. This particular Thursday they were packing them in, though they had thinned out by the time we had all left. The customers were from a healthy variety across the age spectrum; groups (plural) of 20-something girls, families with little kids, elderly couples. I went with the 'Rents, no spring chickens, one of my cousins and my aunt. An electronica-thumping party zone restaurant like the Spice near Union Square would not have been their cup of tea.

The prix-fix menu was what we all - except my aunt - ordered from. It came with an appetizer, an entree, and a dessert. Since all of the prix-fix dinners were from the regular menu anyway, it made the most sense, financialy. At $38 per person, you basically get dessert free.

My appetizer was the Beef Carpaccio, very thinly sliced raw beef. Fig & Olive drizzled it with a thick balsamic reduction and covered it in shaved Parmesan. Carpaccio is a very light flavor and the bite of the vinegar coupled with the bitterness of the cheese meant that most of its flavor was bullied out of the room. This will disappoint many, however, if you're like Shrink and find the concept of eating uncooked meat troubling, you may prefer it this way. I'd have them halve the toppings though. Shrink ordered the Mediterranean Chicken Samosas. If there was any concern that this would be a spicy dish, one bite put that concern to bed. Mellow versions of Mediterranean food, served with artistic flair is the name of the game at Fig & Olive. So the samosas, while actually very good, were also extremely light. The only way that they could burn your mouth is if you lit them on fire. Dudeman and my cousin ordered soup. She ordered the Provincial Carrot and Thyme Soup, which I did not try but which she said was good and not over-carroty. He got the Northern Italian Mushroom and Truffle Soup, which we agreed was also light (a common theme). While he liked how the mushroom was less a dominant flavor than a partner, I thought it seemed thin, especially since there was nothing partnered with it.

Myself and Shrink both ordered the Grilled Lamb Skewers and Couscous, lamb cubes skewered on rosemary branches and served with yogurt and a side of couscous. Medium rare. The lamb and accompanying vegetables were perfectly tender, perfectly spiced and perfect-tasting. Sadly, the couscous was mediocre and barely worth the effort of eating. My cousin ordered the Grilled Truffle Chicken Palliard, a free-range chicken breast with herbs and spices and served with a mashed potato and leek confit. Again, I didn't stick my fork onto her plate (maybe next time), but she liked it a lot and recommended it. The Salmon a la Andalucia, seared salmon served with zucchini, fennel, tomato and chic peas that my aunt ordered was the best entree of the bunch. It lacked any and all fishiness, was as tender as gelatin and practically dissolved when it hit your tongue. It was what salmon is supposed to be. Dudeman went with the Shrimp and Scallop Paella and found, despite liking the dish as a whole, the portion lacking. Granted, he's probably better off without Applebye's-sized buckets of seasoned rice, but in his defense, two shrimp and two scallops seems somewhat chintzy for what would normally be a $30 entree. I thought it was decent, but it wasn't anything to write home about, either. I think I'm going to stick to my philosophy of only ordering paella in Spanish restaurants (I know, Spain is on the Med).

We tried two different desserts between the five of us, the Dessert Crostini was interesting but unimpressive. A row of shortbread crackers topped with mascarpone, cherry and pistachio couldn't hold a candle to the Chocolate Pot de Creme, which was like having a chocolate bar covered in cream and soft enough to be eaten with a spoon. It was a delicious and an unexpected (but welcome) surprise.

I was disappointed with the service. Normally, I find myself irritated at a waiter's constant attention. In this case though, the staff would vanish into the clear blue sky for a half an hour at a time. On multiple occasions after waiting and waiting I just decided to ask a busboy to hunt our waitress down. But this is a staff issue, not a kitchen one. The food all arrived promptly and at the same time.

PIZZA by CER TE
132 East 56th Street
New York, NY 10022
(212) 813-2020

Pizza is everywhere in Midtown. From Ray Bari and Sbarro cranking out chain style pies to an ever-growing coterie of 99-cent slice shops churning out pizza that tastes like you've overpaid, to a myriad of generic pie shops, we can now add, with much rejoicing, that Midtown has its own haute pizza. Courtesy of Cer Te, the high end caterers with a shmancy cafe, we can now partake in the joys of pizza that doesn't drip florescent orange grease down your arm while you cross the street eating.

I'm a folder. People who don't fold their slices piss me off. I genuinely find it irritating. Just the other day, I was out with a girl who ate her crust first and I found myself suddenly unable to hear a single word she said. "What are you doing?" I thought. And those out there who whip out knives and forks... don't get me started. However, Cer Te's pizzas are not the typical kind you might find with a line of tourists or a stabbed mobster in front of. Cer Te almost requires that you eat it with a fork and I don't recommend the fold. And despite these shortcomings, I like 'em.

The Italian Wedding is the square slice you see below and comes topped with meatballs, spinach, mozzarella and hot pepper. Fantastic, though small. You can taste each flavor all at the same time without any of them muting the others. I'm pretty sure this defies physics, but there it is. The Shrooms is a pie covered in a blanket of roast wild mushroom, thyme and bechamel. It was unlike any other mushroom slice I'd ever had in that it was basically like a cream of mushroom soup in pizza form. Or a very flat bread bowl. I liked it. The Farmers, while good, was the most disappointing of the four. It was potato, cheddar cheese, scallions and corn. Like the result of a union between grandma's leftover side dish and an extra Boboli, it didn't do much for me. The most traditional slice on the menu is the Margherita Cer Te, and it was without a doubt great. Very sweet sauce, not overwhelmed in greasy cheese, with a nice char to the crust from the brick oven.

Since Cer Te does far more than pizza at its other location, there is a wide range of desserts to choose from as well as a few salads and sandwiches, but ordering that at a pizza joint seems silly to me. They did look good though.

Expect to shell out about $4 to 5 per slice with tax. Pies will be $25 to $30. Don't expect to sit there, as the place is microscopic and the few stools are occupied by people waiting for their orders to be finished.

My biggest complaint is that cardboard box they give you your pizza in. Even if you stay there to eat it, they give you a huge crate to eat it from. Totally wasteful behavior from a restaurant that touts its environmental-friendliness.