Wegmans, Collegeville, PA

http://collegeville.wegmans.com/

It was almost too much to bear: the new Wegmans was opening and I just knew it was going to be overrun on opening day. So we waited until day two to go. Patience, personified.

We approached the host at The Pub and were told it would be about 15 minutes (that estimate would be an hour by the time we left the store), so we perused the nearby 6-pack beer selection (which has been controversial): we are now free from the beer distributors who force me to buy a case. Freedom!

In about five minutes, our buzzer sounded, and we were seated at a two-top near the railing that separates the pub from the seating area for the rest of the market cafe area thingy. The Pub is not large by any stretch, but has a decent-sized bar and perhaps 15 tables. It was of course packed, and so the volume was pretty high, but we could still hear each other.

The menu is interesting: it doesn’t purport to be Irish in any way, which I sort of appreciated, compared to faux places that just put out crap food. It is also surprisingly healthy, with sides being not fries or other starches, but the daily vegetable, which turned out today to be green beans. Further, the portions all appeared to be sensible and befitting the price. Adding to the health factor: the menu details each dish’s calorie count. It’s a bit more difficult ordering that cheeseburger when you know it’s going to cost you 900 calories.

So, I opted for the salad and the fig, gorgonzola, and prosciutto naan pizza, while Rick chose three oysters and the Vietnamese black tiger shrimp with bouillabaisse sauce. A note here: I am pretty darn sure that these relatively simple dishes on the menu can be relatively easily recreated at home; for example, all of the sauces served with the entrees can be purchased in the deli section. It’s a nice tie-in, and also a nice way to try things out before taking them home.

My salad was average (nothing spectacular but perfectly serviceable), as were Rick’s oysters. He enjoyed his shrimp more, and I really dug my pizza. It was something of a gloopy mess to look at, but managed to hang together pretty well. There was a lot of flavor going on with the pungent gorgonzola sort of dominating, but the figs held up their end with a nice sweetness, and the prosciutto was nice and crispy and salty. A good little pizza that. Accompanying our dinner was a pint of Yards, and really that can’t be bad.

Service was a bit spotty, but that’s to be expected as it was just their second day. However, considering that there is no tipping, it didn’t matter all that much and good for just getting a wage and nothing else.

Is this a destination? Probably not. Could it be a reliable place to get a beer and some grub before getting victuals for the week? Definitely.

258 Bridge St., Phoenixville, PA

http://www.majolicarestaurant.com/

I haphazardly signed up for the Majolica e-newsletter on one visit or another and started receiving it soon after. Tangent: I think Majolica is doing something very smart with their e-newsletter, in that they are offering special options (like the dinner we just had), advance notice of special events, and other information. In addition, Chef Andrew Deery offers honest commentary on recent dinners and other news, including a great comment about making sure people cancel reservations they can’t make. It makes me more connected to the restaurant, and therefore more likely to visit. Very smart.

Anyway, a ways back the newsletter announced a special dinner featuring ingredients from Jack’s Farm, a local boutique farm that operates a CSA and sells at the local farmer’s market. It seemed like a unique opportunity and a way to support a restaurant I like, and a business who is doing something I want to be more supportive of (local food).

The dinner was different, in that we were at communal tables, and after some initial hemming and hawing, we settled on an empty one and were soon joined by six other foodies; we had great conversation with two ladies from the Main Line about food, travel, education, and, of course, cats. It turned out a lot better than expected.

On to the food. We began with a squash soup composed of butternut, acorn, and delecata varieties, adorned with herbed spaetzle and curry butter. If this was the beginning, I knew we were in for a good night: the soup was thick without being too heavy and just wonderfully seasoned. I love a good squash soup, and think I can make it: I can’t make it like this. Everyone sopped up every bit of it.

Next came a truly inspired salad of arugula. Atop the greens was shaved parmesan and some sliced radishes; underneath was a drizzle of black olive oil. Also slightly obscured was a fried oblong. When it first arrived, I thought it might be some fried goat cheese, which I’d had as an accompaniment to other salads. No, this was a fried poached egg. Um, Deery already had me at fried, but this was amazing. The egg itself was tasty, but as the yolk mixed with the olive oil, you had a wonderful dressing to the fresh arugula. Still light, but wonderfully tasty.

Next came roasted chicken agnolotti accompanied by peas, pea shoots, and pea tendrils, with chicken consomme drizzled on top to serve as something of a light sauce. I don’t know how he did this, but the chicken had the consistency of what one normally gets inside a cheese ravioli. This reads as gross as I write this, but it was wonderful: the chicken was so flavorful and everyone wanted to drink the consomme out of the bowl in which the dish was served. The peas, the peas: I think one can forget how good fresh peas are since we normally get them canned or frozen. Man, those were some fine peas.

A while back I attempted a cassoulet that was heavy on breadcrumbs and not much else. We all agreed after having Deery’s pork cassoulet that he needs to offer a class in making cassoulets, because this was a masterpiece: fresh out of the oven, the smokiness of the falling-apart pork melded beautifully with the turnips, carrots, and potatoes. If you didn’t know it was fall yet, you certainly knew after this dish. Somehow though, despite the smokiness and the earthiness of the ingredients, there was something light about the dish — even bright. I can’t really describe it better than that: the flavors weren’t heavy, but bright.

The cheese plate I heard referred to earlier in the meal didn’t do justice to the next course: a slice of goat cheese was perched next to a beet tartare upon which rested a nest of micro cilantro, all of which was drizzled with aged balsamic. I feel it’s a sign of maturity that I have grown to love beets, and this dish sealed the affair. Talk about brightness — I love how balsamic brings out interesting flavors in strawberries, and here it did the same, bringing out sweetness and tart in the beets. And the combination of beet and cilantro was inspired; I suppose the “micro-ness” of the cilantro mitigated the herb’s normal power, because everything was wonderfully balanced.

The dinner ended with duo of sorts: a poached asian pear drizzled at the table with caramel and a pistachio cake topped with star anise ice cream. The pear was the star here: though a little difficult to cut into, the pear made it worth my while as it was sweet without being sickeningly so and so juicy and flavorful. I normally detest anise, but here it gave just the right amount of bite, offering a wonderful companion to the pear.

Yeah, I liked it. The $65 price tag was a bargain. We all thanked Chef Deery for a wonderful meal as he chatted with the diners after the meal; it was also cool to acknowledge the two guys from the farm who were there — yes, even the pears were from the farm. I may have to sign up for that CSA now, if only to try my hand at beets.

Ritz-Carlton Philadelphia

http://www.10arts.com/ (beware automatically playing music)

Thanks to some dogged efforts and wonderful connections and hospitality, the chorus was able to get an extension on the Restaurant Week menu for 10 Arts — and get a private audience with the one and only Jennifer Carroll, the best contestant on this Top Chef (and perhaps ever).

We had a private dining room for the around 30 of us, which was nice — especially since we can get pretty loud, even more so when you get some good juice into us.

I decided to start with a negroni, while Rick went for a cucumber-ific concoction with Hendricks and plenty o’ cucumber: I think I liked his better than he did.

Soon, the first course arrived. Bucking convention, Rick got the pork and beans instead of the salmon ceviche, while I opted for the heirloom corn chowder with creme fraiche.

The pork and beans (really braised pork belly and summer beans with a vinaigrette) was inspired: perfectly salty without being ridiculous, with nice smokiness and tart. My chowder was well-seasoned, though I would have preferred it to be less niblet-y: a few more of them could have been pureed for my liking. Still good though.

Next came the entrees, with Rick choosing the tagliatelle bolognese and me choosing the Pennsylvania brook trout with baby bok choy in a hazelnut brown butter sauce.

I think I speak correctly for Rick in saying that might have been the best bolognese I’ve ever had. There was a sweetness to it that was deep, rich, and intriguing; it was like a sophisticated cousin to Cincinnati chili and just as addictive. A hearty, well-executed dish. My trout was cooked perfectly; the bok choy did little for me beside provide some balance to the sauce, which was fabulous: slightly sweet but with the earthiness of the nuts to ground it, the sauce managed to stay perfect while I savored the meal, something I wouldn’t have expected given its density. It was a great entree.

We soon got our coffees and then the popular dessert of “frozen snickers,” consisting of peanut caramel, peanut butter, and honey ice creams:

However, before I could really dig into what turned out to be a scrumptious and surprisingly light dessert, I was interrupted by perhaps the loudest gay gasp I’d ever heard from my tablemate (and fellow second tenor) Avery: Jennifer had entered the room. Upon hearing the gasp, she headed our way, saying, “well, I guess I have to start over here!” Avery and I instantly hoarded her, fawning and interrogating. Soon, she had to make the rounds, but we later caught up with her for a pic in front of the room’s imposing fireplace.

Isn’t she just the sweetest? Before she left, Brotherly Love, our small group, serenaded her with “The Longest Time” and random people entered into our private room, which, part of me can understand, but also, um, PRIVATE ROOM. Interloper:

Anyway, we cornered Jennifer again before she left and I did my Ron impression, which she enjoyed. She was great — truly humbled by all of the attention and fawning, and she ended up spending around 30 minutes at least with the whole group. Oh, and she told me I had to go for the full 16-course degustation menu at Robuchon in December (so I guess I have to).

The dinner though? Very good. It’s obvious that she has a strong kitchen that is putting out good dishes (not one of the prix fixe options was panned, though if someone had said something like that, Avery and I might have drawn and quartered them), and that she herself has creative ideas and a great talent to execute them.

Go Jenn! You’ll always be Top Chef to us!

1608 Sansom St, Philadelphia, PA

In my never-ending for pre-rehearsal dining, I wandered about the Sansom Street area. I contemplated Ladder 15, but it was too crowded; I then happened upon Giwa and thought it might be a nice venture, especially since I wanted to redeem Asian food from the recent bad experience at the Pad Thai Shack (just not good pad thai).

The space is tiny, with a handful of tables and a counter area. I scanned the options and chose the buckwheat noodle special, thinking I would be eating healthy since the little description said I would be doing so. I sat at the counter and read, and soon my food was up: a heaping mound of noodles and veggies with little accompaniments of what I think was kimchi and some nut-like things that were probably the cousin to a soy/edamame hybrid. I don’t know.

What I do know is that the noodles were great. They packed a spicy punch, but still had lots of flavor. The noodles also were cooked well, which can sometimes be a problem with buckwheat noodles (they tend to get sticky I find). Adding to the flavor of the meal was just a pleasant and friendly atmosphere: the service was speedy but lovely, so that I didn’t feel stressed but pleased to be there.

Certainly not a life-changing restaurant, but it appears to be dependable and efficient…and tasty and relatively cheap (I think I got out of there under $10). So, add it to the list of options.

1091 Lancaster Ave., Berwyn, PA

http://www.tastenectar.com/

Nectar had been a place I had long considered an attractive option, but hadn’t quite found the reason to go there. Certainly the lineage of the place, along with the “Buddakan in the Burbs” description, made it attractive. However, I’d also seen the pricey menu and read some middling reviews, so I hadn’t felt the need to beat down their door.

However, it was my birthday, and we wanted a good place in easy driving distance, so this seemed like a good option. We arrived at the appointed time (done through Open Table, where I included in the notes that it was my birthday) and were seated immediately in the room off the main, expansive room, which was nice, since I could see that room — with the sushi/alcohol bar a main fixture — becoming loud very quickly.

It took me a while, but I think we had two servers — one for drinks and one for food — but I’m not quite sure about that interpretation. Anyway, the first server appeared brusque, but she warmed over time; the other server was serviceable. Overall, the service was fine — nothing fantastic, but nothing was amiss.

We ordered cocktails (Rick’s Beefeater martini and I tried the blood orange martini, which was nothing special) and then set about figuring out what we were going to do with this menu teeming with possibilities. We ultimately decided on sharing the dim sum bento box, as well as a special side of lobster risotto; Rick then went off on his sushi bender, while I tried the crispy duck.

The dim sum bento consisted of an average spring roll, decent mushroom dumplings and quite nice chicken curry dumplings and lovely pork pot sticker dumplings. It was fine, as far as it went, but certainly not transcendent, nor not necessarily worth the $18.

The same largely went for the rest of the meal: fine, but not necessarily worth all the hype or expense. Someone here can do sauces: the risotto was full of flavor, and the crispy duck sat in a sauce that was spicy without being overpowering and relatively rich, but not congealed. The problem for me was in the cooking: my crispy duck was indeed crispy, but tough in parts and slightly undercooked in others, and the risotto had a bit too much of a bite for my tastes (I don’t want my risotto gummy, but not quite as al dente as they were pulling off here…and one might legitimately ask as well what the hell risotto was doing on the menu, but that might be another conversation).

As I intimated, the service was slightly odd — myriad people arriving at various times with various items with varying degrees of pleasantness. They did provide a nice touch by accompanying my ordered mini donuts with their ice cream birthday cake (I’d alerted them in the memo for my Open Table reservation, but have found those memos to be largely unheeded). The desserts were delightful actually, so the evening ended well. However, I just feel like the place wasn’t nearly as good as it thinks it is, but I sort of got the feeling that it didn’t matter to the throngs of people on expense accounts or dates.

868 N. Franklin St., Chicago, IL

http://mkchicago.com

In addition to trips to Frontera Grill for brunch and various exercises in Chicago grub, we wanted to get a nice dinner our final night, and I ended up deciding on mk, especially since I could get a table on OpenTable, which I always prefer, since I don’t enjoy talking to people:)

We ended up walking there from our hotel, which was something of a hike, and it was a nice night (we el’d it back, thought that wasn’t necessarily that convenient either). The room is elegantly designed — modern and refined — and though many reviewers had suggested the second floor, the first floor was perfectly fine.

The meal started somewhat slowly, as we were given what I thought was an inordinate amount of time to peruse the menu (which isn’t exactly pages long) and wine list (which is). We did order cocktails relatively quickly, and I fell in love with mine: the Via Soleil, a concoction of prosecco, St. Germain, and vanilla. I can see how for some that drink could be too sweet, but it was a perfect summer cocktail, and a delight.

When we had decided on our food, we got the sommelier to recommend a relatively inexpensive ($36 with a 10% discount) bottle of an Italian white that is not on their online list for some reason, but was perfect.

The meal started with an amuse bouche of a heirloom tomato salad that was light and perfectly seasoned:

Appetizers came next: a selection of oysters for Rick that had individual drops of sauce, instead of the usual mini-buckets of sauce, just so it was just so, and for me a Hudson Valley foie gras torchon, with apricots, pistachio, and a quinoa granola frisee:

This gave me an inkling for what we were in for. The foie gras was decadent of course, but by no means overwhelmingly rich. The accompaniments perfectly suited the foie gras, bringing out fruits and bite that may not have been there otherwise.

Next came the entrees, with Rick opting for a grilled Alaskan halibut special that was perfectly cooked with a fresh sauce of corn, summer squash, tarragon, and grape tomatoes:

I opted for a menu seafood regular: Lake Erie whitefish pan roasted, poached Maine lobster, edamame, radish, scallions, lobster and radish broth:

A generous portion that was nonetheless light given its ingredients, the dish was perfectly seasoned and filled with surprises — from the ways the various vegetables brought out brightness in the whitefish, to the delicate richness of the lobster on its own and then when accompanied by the broth. Seemingly simple, but delightful.

As we ordered our food, I said to the waiter, “Oh, and we’d like…” and he finished saying, “the pommes frites with truffle cream” — obviously, this is the signature side here at mk:

And deservedly so. They were beyond addicting: I might have come close to reaching over to the next table to grab a few more fries; I was very very close to dabbing my finger in the dish to get the last wisps of truffle cream out. Yes, they have made it onto the Hall of Dishes for being basically perfect.

Dessert was fantastic as well: Rick had two cremes brulees (blackberry and vanilla), while I had carrot cake (kinda), composed of ginger cream cheese sorbet, vanilla-carrot puree, brown sugar meringue white chocolate carrot puffs, and brown butter powder:

The plate looks a mess, but this is a deconstructed carrot cake, so it should be. The sorbet was some of the best I’ve had, the puffs were delicate pillows of carroty goodness, and I wish I could have the puree with everything.

The meal lasted a bit longer than it should have as again the checking in and check itself were oddly spaced out. However, the entire experience overall was really very good, and earns mk a spot in the Top 5 for the delicacy of the dishes, the atmosphere, the beverages, and those damn fries.

So, while in Chicago, we did some fine dining — in addition to Frontera Grill and mk, we also hit Marcus Samuelsson’s C-House for lunch, which was fairly meh — but we also did the Chicago classics that everyone hears about: deep-dish pizza and hot dogs.

Initially, we were going to do Lou Malnati’s for pizza, but our travels made it easier for us to go to Giordano’s, which I think was still a good choice. The sauce was flavorful, the ingredients well done, and the crust delightful. And it was huge:

And it had a lot of cheese; this was left on Rick’s plate after his meal:

It was grubbin’ though, and I’m glad we got it.

We also partook of the classic Chicago hot dog, which has piled on top of it myriad ingredients, only a few of which are discernible below, but which include mustard, onions, tomatoes, and a pickle.

Oh, and celery salt of course. It was fine. I mean, a pickle instantly discounts a meal for me, but this one was relatively palatable and gave a nice crunch to the dog. Would I seek this out? Um, no, but it was worth the excursion down that road.

We also had a decent breakfast at a place in Oak Park; we were tripped up by the worst server I’ve had in a while. What’s notable though is this sign:

“Great days start with good breakfasts!” I couldn’t agree more.

One more grubbin’ thing: popcorn, specifically, Garrett Popcorn Shop off Michigan in the Loop (there are tons of locations, but that’s where we had ours). Rick opted for the cheesecorn, which was an aesthetic mistake as he gradually turned into Chester Cheetah or something, while I got the standard with butter. They were both excellent, and I highly recommend them. I got the caramel with cashews, but didn’t eat until the next day, and it was sort of a mess (so, the caramel corn doesn’t keep like another popcorn purveyor of note), but it was still awfully tasty.

So, Chicago as a food town? Very, very good, though I don’t know that I need to do the pizza and hot dog again.

445 N. Clark St., Chicago, IL

http://www.rickbayless.com/restaurants/grill.html

I’d heard of Rick Bayless before seeing Top Chef Masters, but only in a vague way — great chef, Chicago, Mexican…whatever. After viewing TCM though, I almost became obsessed with him. He may be the sweetest man on earth, especially if I have that impression of him from a television show.

When we decided to go to Chicago, we also decided to Bayless it up and decided on Saturday brunch at Frontera Grill, for we love brunch and it fit perfectly in our schedule.

We were warned by our concierge that we should go early. We did a walk-by an hour before it opened, and there was no one around; a half-hour later, we got in line:

Once the doors opened, we got our table quickly. The wait though soon began in what is obviously an impossible context: a full restaurant at the exact same moment, without having the rhythm of people starting and finishing as you would any other time of the day. So, no worries.

After getting a primer on the menu, we ordered, and obviously went a little crazy, wanting to experience as much Bayless as possible. For drinks, I had a blackberry mojito and Rick had an amazing (though not pictured) champagne margarita (why had I never thought of that?) and a michelada:

Sadly, Rick has given up on the michelada as a viable option for him. For me, anything with tomato juice is a non-starter, but Rick’s a fan of the bloody mary, so we thought the michelada might be up his alley; however, if Rick Bayless can’t make one palatable for my Rick, it ain’t never gonna happen.

After drinks, we had our appetizer platter:

(from top, clockwise: crispy chicken taquitos, chips, guacamole, ceviche tostadas, cheesy quesadillas, jicama salad)

Um, wow. Perhaps the best guacamole I’ve ever had. The ceviche was beyond delightful, full of zing and acidity and bright flavors. The jicama salad was the best use of jicama I’ve ever had. OK, that’s not saying much, but it was so refreshing, serving as something of a palate cleanser between options. It’s pairing with stalks of pineapple and dusted with chili powder (or something similar) was inspired.

Now to the entrees. I, of course, went off. I had an entree of sapitos, a trio of gorditas in chipotle-black bean sauce, each with its own topping (scrambled eggs; grilled chicken; chorizo and plantains). I also had to try the Frontera take on a buckwheat pancake, so the let me order just one, which came with a heavenly syrup:

Um, yeah. The pancake was delicious, but let’s get to my corn cakes of love up there. The scrambled eggs was a nice nod to breakfast; the chicken was lovingly tender and a nice traditional effort. The chorizo and plantain transported. It rocked. It made me happy. It was very, very good.

Rick had the Enchiladas de Huevo con Bistec — basically steak and eggs in enchilada form:

He liked it; he didn’t love it.

In sum, it was a great meal. The space is fun and a bit over-the-top in the way that Mexican places can be, but it felt right. My two favorite bits:

The tiger costume (for wrestling? Halloween?) was cute, and the drapes have the same graphics as the poster in my bathroom at home, so that made me happy.

I love Rick Bayless, and I loved Frontera Grill. It does make me want to both try Frontera or Topolobampo for dinner and try the wonderful Mexican places in Philadelphia, because damn do I love good Mexican food.

Starr Street and Nutt Road (Acme Shopping Center), Phoenixville, PA

Once again we were out for weekend errands and needed to get some breakfast (no bananas in the house). I remember seeing some coupons for this pretty new place in Phoenixville, so I decided we should try it, coupons or not.

The place is new-looking, though not so sterile that it isn’t comfortable. We were greeted quickly by both the hostess and server. The menu is actually a bit less gargantuan than normal when it comes to diner breakfast — nothing really outside of the norm, and nothing designating anything particularly special that the diner wants to be known for. I decided then to get my usual bacon and eggs with rye; Rick got the 2 x 2 x 2 — bacon, eggs, and pancakes (guess at how many of each).

In a reasonable amount of time, we got our food, and I saw a decent amount of eggs (while Rick felt shorted), clumps of bacon, and a whole mess of potatoes. The eggs were undercooked according to my tastes — too much liquidity really. The potatoes were cooked well, as they were, but I prefer more crispiness, rather than just a top layer of crisp potatoes and then an inch of just plain old cooked potatoes.

Then came the bacon. As noted, they were in clumps really, rather than strips. I wonder how they got that way; my theory is that they pre-cook the bacon to a certain level and then bundle them together until an order is put in, and then they cook them off. I don’t know though. However, beyond their clumpiness, they were, as Rick noted, the saltiest bacon we have ever had. We had a second piece to just to confirm that they were not aberrations, but they were indeed salty beyond edibility. Unlike my normal practice, I didn’t finish my bacon nor my potatoes.

The prices were average, and the service fine, but the food was well below other diners in the area, so it’s unlikely we’ll be back — unless there’s a coupon.

352 Lancaster Ave., Malvern, PA

http://www.theclassicdinerpa.com/

I had heard quite a bit about The Classic Diner — many Chowhounds had raved about it, and I think it had garnered quite a few best ofs, in particular for its baked goods.

We managed to get a table without waiting; I say managed because when we left there was a line out the door. If you want a relaxing breakfast, this is not the place for you: the noise level was pretty high, and space is tight, with tables jammed together and not much room in which servers can maneuver.

We fairly quickly ordered from the person I think was our server — they seemed to have something of a tag-team approach with a different person taking our drink order than the one who took our food order. I don’t like that approach, because ultimately something gets missed in all of the confusion.

I ordered my standard bacon and eggs, and I ordered a “bold” coffee. The coffee was not all that great, surprisingly — slightly weak, and overly bitter. However, I still wanted more when my cup was empty, but the bottomlessness of the cup depends on someone actually coming around with refills and it took too long for that to happen.

When the food arrived, I got everything but my meat (an odd omission to me) and the deliverer disappeared before I could get her to order me my promised and much-desired bacon. So, another few minutes elapsed before I could get one of the speeding servers to slow down and pay attention. I did get my bacon a few minutes later, and it was good. The eggs and bread were good as well, but the potatoes were merely tepid and essentially flavorless. I really don’t understand why diners cannot deliver a good home fry, but they’re too often flavorless and cooked poorly — undercooked, overcooked, greasy, dry — they run the gamut. Our food order taker finally showed up when we were finished with our check; there was no inquiries about how our meal had gone.

As you can tell, our meal didn’t go all that well. Later, I enjoyed the cinnamon roll I ordered to go, but otherwise there wasn’t that much to wow me, let alone justify the trek down to the Main Line for such food and service.

The quest for the perfect breakfast place continues…