Black Lab Bistro

248 Bridge Street, Phoenixville, PA

http://www.blacklabbistro.net/

Way back when (I’m bad with dates), Black Lab arrived just as Phoenixville was turning the corner — transforming itself from yet another PA industrial burg that had seen better days to a vital, interesting town with things to do and, better yet, places to eat. When it opened, Black Lab was a casual sit-down restaurant, with a wonderful breakfast, spectacular baked goods baked in house, and dependable lunch and dinner options. We would go there fairly frequently, and took many an out-of-town guest for a weekend breakfast or casual dinner.

Then everything changed.

Phoenixville became increasingly hip, especially with the arrival of Majolica and its rave reviews in local media. So, rather than remain a dependable and even necessary component of the local restaurant scene — a go-to place that wouldn’t break the bank, Black Lab transformed itself into a fine dining establishment.

Once the change took place, I boycotted it on principle. I’m like that.

However, we had a special guest in town for work, and since Majolica is closed on Tuesdays, and we didn’t feel like hiking anywhere else, Black Lab was chosen.

The once cavernous room has been broken up by dividers and nicer furniture chosen. However, the noise level in the restaurant is still high: with only a few tables besides our own occupied, it was still often hard to hear each other. The place feels like fine dining I guess, though they still have the neon side inside with flying dogs and a really bad font. Of all the things to keep…

For my first course, I chose the frisee salad, in part because I cannot withstand the siren songs of blue cheese and prosciutto (hey guys, would it kill you to spell that word right on your own (online) menu?). The salad was very tasty, if not a bit too big for a starter salad.

Since this was a work dinner, I decided not to go crazy, and opted for the andouille penne — penne with andouille sausage, caramelized onions (yet another thing I really cannot keep myself from ordering), locatelli creme, and grilled chicken. On retrospect, I think I blocked out that last ingredient when choosing this dish, no doubt blinded by the onions. When I got the dish, I was sort of taken aback by the extent to which this dish was a CHICKEN andouille penne. There was just a ton of chicken in this dish, easily overwhelming the surprisingly bland sausage. The sauce was good, as were the onions, but it was just too meaty.

For dessert, I had a yogurt, berries, and granola concoction — I wanted something lighter. It was underwhelming. The berries were nice, but the dessert was layered as a trifle would be, jam-packed into a wine glass, making it difficult to mix everything together, as I expect one is wont to do with such a dish.

As you can tell, I may be being hypercritical of Black Lab, because of how I feel they betrayed me. However, for what they are now charging, I think they should be setting a higher standard, and I frankly don’t think they are…and I still need to have a good, non-chain, casual dining restaurant around here!

Meritage Philadelphia

500 S. 20th St., Philadelphia, PA

http://www.meritagephiladelphia.com/

We’ve been fans of the Center City Restaurant Week promotion for a while, having sampled El Vez, Bliss, and Cuba Libre during this prix fixe week. Often, the $30 price tag for three courses was a good deal, so long as you chose wisely. However, now that the price has risen to $35, and restaurants have clued in, I’m not sure we’ll be partaking as liberally as we have. Meritage, however, was our latest go. We chose it because it had been on my radar for a bit, and some sources liked it and thought it a good bargain for the promotion.

We met Mike in the wee bar for a little cocktail: he was muscled into a nice white by the sassy barkeep, while Rick and I went for a lovely cava as we enjoy the bubbly if given the chance.

After our drinks, we retired up a couple steps to the awfully red dining room (hence the color of the pictures to follow): I didn’t find it nearly as discomforting as Mike did, but I’m not altogether convinced it’s a great color for the small rooms.

After consulting with the sommelier, we ordered what was a wonderful bold white from Argentina. At around $40, it was a steal, and I continue to be impressed with South American wines — we have yet to have a truly awful one.

For the first course, Rick and Mike selected the tuna tartare, while I had the boston lettuce salad with maytag blue cheese dressing, avocado, and crispy pancetta.

Here, Mike and Rick win, which is hardly a surprise. I have to say that flavor-wise, I was content, though it was perhaps a bit too much blue cheese (I never knew that was really possible); I was a bit underwhelmed by the quantity though (of course, at the end of the meal, I was perfectly content with the quantity, so what do I know?), especially considering that the salad retails for $9.

For the main course, Mike chose the roasted chicken, presented on a Yukon gold potato puree;

Rick had the pan seared salmon on sauteed swiss chard;

and I had the gnocchi with puttanesca:

Again, Mike won. We noted that one doesn’t often get chicken dining out (especially when doing fine dining), because, well, it’s chicken. However, when chicken is done well, it can be really good, and this was. Rick seemed content with his salmon (I didn’t try it, what with my gnocchi fixation and the preponderance of mushrooms on his plate).

So, since I grew up in the hardly Italian-y Pacific Northwest, I only discovered puttanesca in grad school when my friend Seth made it, and I loved it. I liked the spice, and also the strange melange of flavors that I’m not usually a fan of — capers, anchovies, and olives are not on my top 100 list, but together in puttanesca, they work somehow.

Or at least they normally do.  Meritage’s puttanesca is sweet. Like Marie Osmond sweet. Like, too sweet. I mean, I don’t think puttanesca is supposed to be sweet at all, but I was willing to give it a little leeway, but the more I ate, the more I was just overwhelmed. It was odd. The gnocchi themselves were fine (not the pillows of transcendence that Osteria provided, but that’s just unfair, probably), but the sauce was just plain strange.

So, it was then onto dessert; Rick selected the banana bread pudding (natch), while Mike and I chose the chocolate tart with a cranberry compote:

Both were fine; I think we won over Rick, who commented that the banana was not exactly unwelcome, but perhaps unnecessary. The coffee, served from mini french presses, was delightful.

So, Meritage? Eh. The food was good (nothing offensive, really), the service largely good (our server had her flighty moments), and the setting was good. The bill came to a relatively whopping number over $200 owing to our predilection for the potent potables, but that was understandable. No need to go back, but perhaps a need to re-assess our fascination with restaurant week.

Cafe Nordstrom

Nordstrom, The Plaza at King of Prussia

I have a soft spot for department store restaurants. My Grandma Dolly was a big fan of Frederick & Nelson’s at Everett Mall, so we would often do some shopping and then settle in to, what I believe was called, the Arcade Cafe for her to have a ton of coffee and me to have a club sandwich. The special treat with Grandma was to go down to the Frederick’s downtown for the Santa breakfast. It somehow must be in the genes, because mom and I would also stop fairly often at the cafe at Nordstrom in Alderwood Mall for a blue plate special. There is something elegant about such places — an escape from the hoi polloi at the far too pedestrian food court — and I’m glad they exist.

I had forgotten that the Nordstrom at KoP had a cafe, but then Rick remembered and decided that we had to try it. The cafe at this Nordstrom is their “marketplace” concept, which, frankly, was a clusterfuck: you get in a completely indiscernible line near some paper menus (nothing overhead or posted), then order and pay at a cash register. Then, you go find your table, and then someone serves as sort of your server. It’s like you were at a buffet, but there’s no buffet: they’re going to bring out what you already ordered. It’s an incredibly odd mix of informality and formality, which, in a way, sort of makes sense for the odd but normal for me department store restaurant.

The room itself is pretty nice, and even includes a view.

I started with a good though crouton-less french onion soup; turns out that I didn’t really miss the crouton, and that the cheese was just enough. For our main meal, Rick had the Rustic Vegetables:

They were good, but to me a bit too rustic.

I ordered the blue cheese and pear salad, which came with candied walnuts and a champagne vinaigrette.

Do you notice something? Yeah, no blue cheese. So, I hailed a server and asked about the lack of blue cheese, and he said he’d go check it out. He came back and said they were out. Huh. He apparently alerted a manager to my surprise at getting swindled out of a titular component, so she came over and offered me something else (nope, hungry) or for it to be comped (ding). Now, that may in fact have been a bit over the top for missing a few tablespoons of blue cheese, but that is the Nordstrom way, so I was happy in the end.

Will we be going back? Doubtful: it’s relatively expensive (I think both our entrees were around $9), and the experience was odd, not soothing. I’d rather just grab fast food Indian or a big old salad at the food court, I think. However, we are definitely going to try The Zodiac at Neiman Marcus some time, because I refuse to let the dream of department store dining die. Also, please post any fond remembrances of department store dining, or contemporary finds, because I don’t want to be the only one!