goodburger

1725 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, PA

 

http://www.goodburgerpa.com

 

Usually before chorus, I have some time to grab dinner — somewhere between Market and Spruce, 18th and 12th — which gives me quite a few options. I had heard much about the possibilities for goodburger (I’ll adhere to their bell hooks style of capitalization), so decided to hit it now that it was open — I believe it opened on the 5th of May.

 

I guess I really need to stop going to places that have just opened. OK, it wasn’t that bad, but still. I had to repeat my order — turkey burger, fries, soda — a few times because the order taker couldn’t understand that I wanted the works (which comes automatically with the turkey burger) without pickles. Not hard.

 

goodburger does the order –> wait –> pickup when number is called thing, and I had to wait a long time. Apparently, the turkey burger takes longer than other items. While I was waiting, I had time to take in the atmosphere — a nicer than usual interior with nice tables and floors. However, they also include mirrored signs proclaiming how devoted they are to freshness and the earth. Lovely, but it’s a little disingenuous as I saw them pouring my fries into the fryer from a frozen bag emblazoned with “Simplot” (not a bad brand; certainly not as good as my dad’s fries, but not bad. However, it’s the principle of the thing). I was also distracted by the harmony of Fox News on the plasma TV and techno on the speakers. Um, OK.

 

Once I got my food, it was good, which, by its name, is apparently what they are striving for. It wasn’t glorious, but it was good. Now, was it $11.45 good? No. It’s certainly not a bargain, and if I’m getting a burger and fries without table service but with Brit Hume, I expect a lot more to satisfy me.

Good Dog Bar

224 S. 15th St., Philadelphia, PA

http://www.gooddogbar.com/

So, after taking care of my business in Philly, I had some time before choir, so I was trying to think of where to have dinner. I then remembered that I had wanted to try Good Dog for a while. From the outside, there’s nothing remarkable about the place, and the inside doesn’t have much either: it’s sort of a hipster dive bar in some ways — dark, overstuffed, with an odd mixture of old and young, men and women.

So, why Good Dog? Well, over a year ago, Craig Laban wrote a review of the place and there was a picture I will never forget of the meal I was to have:

Yes, that is the Good Dog Burger — 1/2 pound of sirloin, stuffed with roquefort, topped with caramelized onions, and barely contained by a brioche bun.

Yeah. Wow. The service wasn’t all that great, the shoestring fries (regular and sweet intermixed) were barely warm, but the burger? Holy bajeezus. It was goooooooooooooooood.

So, should I have occasion to need a humongoid burger that will kill my diet (and some nice beers on tap, including Magic Hat #9, my selection this time), then I will definitely go back.

Arf!

Pita Pocket

218 S. 16th St., Philadelphia, PA

http://www.pitapocketphilly.com/

Wow. It’s been a while; I hope you all turned over to Stonesthrow to read through my Vegas post to see my reviews of Carnevino and other dining options. Sorry!

Last week I was in the city for work, so I had occasion to eat lunch and dinner and not wolf it down as I normally do on a choir night. For lunch, I went to the Pita Pocket with Mike. I had been here before, and I was glad he chose it, as it is quite a good place.

The offerings are limited to fairly traditional pita-related fast food fare: falafel, hummus, as well as various kabobs. Both times I have had the falafel, and both times I have greatly enjoyed it. The nuggets are just crispy enough without being too charred, and the falafel itself is seasoned well. The fixings for the sandwich are indeterminate, as I just get everything — usual suspects of tahini, but also cabbage, and other sorts of good stuff.

Accompanying all sandwiches and platters is the salad bar, which has some excellent Moroccan carrots, and other Mediterranean options. All in all, it’s a good deal, and a relatively healthy option.

I also have to say that the people serving you are very friendly, helpful, and fast — considering that it has been busy both times I have been there. This might go without saying in other cities, but here? It’s worth nothing. The decor is simple, but nice and clean, and there are plenty of napkins, which you’ll need if you get everything on your falafel!

Twenty Manning

261 S. 20th St., Philadelphia, PA

http://www.twentymanning.com/ 

Dear friend Michael from chorus is heading north to raise money for that pauvre little school called Harvard (OK, the Divinity School, but still). So, Mike and I decided to treat him to dinner. Where to go? First stop was Open Table because I hate talking to people. Turns out there were quite a few tables open for Sunday, including Twenty Manning: Michael said he loved it there, and we’d never been but always wanted to, so it was a match made in heaven.

I arrived first and immediately ordered a bottle of Cava ($40) chilled to fete Michael. The boys arrived shortly and we sipped our very balanced  bubbly while perusing the menu. So, TM has two special “deals”: Sunday-Thursday there is a $30 prix fixe special that doesn’t let you choose everything on the menu, but an awful lot; tonight, they were also offering a $100 prix fixe for two that included a bottle of wine and anything off the menu. We were sort of confused as to what this would all mean for a table of three, but the waiter basically said to tack on another prix fixe (hence $30) for the third person and have at it. I lucked out with the cava already being one of the wine selections for the special, so we basically got the regular prix fixe price with our choice of entrees.

Either way, it was a steal, because everything was delicious. We started with a lovely cheese plate, with nary a figurative stinker in the bunch, accompanied by some bread, grapes, raspberries, and apple. We also shared the veggie spring rolls which were perfectly cooked and nicely flavored. This course may give an indication of the Asian influence here: if it makes sense to add Asian flavors, they do it; if not, they’d rather provide something delicious and not been hamstrung by a concept. This is not an Asian restaurant, but instead an upscale restaurant with a chef specializing in Asian cuisine. It fits.

After polishing that off, we dug into our entrees. I had a delicious hanger steak (what is my deal with beef lately?) that was in a rich, slightly fruity jus that perfectly accompanied it (the glass of Malbec I ordered didn’t hurt either). Mike devoured his duck, and Michael delicately dealt with his tuna — all raved.

I can’t even remember what the boys had for dessert because I was obsessed with my strawberry shortcake that was just fabulous — not overly sweet, with flavorful and not gritty shortcake.

The service was very good, as one would expect on a slowish night; the room is very nice — upscale but not stuffy; stylish but not pretentious.

Overall, I was really impressed. For around $200 total we were bowled over by well-prepared and flavorful food, nicely selected wines, and wonderful staff. You can’t ask for much more than that.  I can see why it’s become something of a reliable friend for many Philadelphians, and now I want to try Audrey Claire.

Fountain Restaurant

Four Seasons Hotel, One Logan Square, Philadelphia, PA

http://www.fourseasons.com/philadelphia/dining/fountain_restaurant.html

There have been many great battles in the Philadelphia area over many disputes. The one that interests me the most is, of course, who has the greatest Sunday brunch in the city. There are two clear disputants: Lacroix and the Fountain. My love for Lacroix has been well documented. I had yet to experience the Fountain though, so it seemed I needed to. So, before the Auto Show (where I slobbered all over the C30 and the new Mini Clubman. However, my Honda is doing just fine thank you and I have one payment left), we went at it.

We were seated promptly at a two-top and lingered somewhat quizzically over the menu.

You see, the Fountain features something of a wacky hybrid brunch: there is an appetizer buffet, then you are presented with your selected entree, and then there is a dessert buffet. Not a fan. What if you are stuck with a sucky entree? I’d rather be able to sample around the main dishes than be presented with a fully-fledged dish, at least in this context.

So, we were confused. And, our server was of no help. It was almost as if he just couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t present a wine list or offer any potent potable options (Um, hello? Mimosa? Bloody Mary?). We overheard another server tell his table that the brunch would proceed at your pace: let us know when you’d like your entree and it’d be out in 15 minutes. Well, that would have been nice to know — I was cramming my face for a while, rushing to get the appetizers in before my entree arrived. In some contexts, I can understand having a more lackadaisical serving approach at a buffet brunch, but not at these prices (our entrees ran at around $40 a piece — buffets are included in that price).

So, off to the appetizer buffet.

Beautiful, no? Yes, definitely beautiful. Notice anything missing?

Wait. Look again.

No labels.

OK, return to that menu we were given (which was whisked away after we ordered): there are a trillion options, and it might be nice to know what we’re going for. So, in that spirit, here are our plates:

As you can tell, I went a little hogwild on the caviar. I quite enjoyed some dishes (that green empanada sort of thing was filled with rabbit and was delicious; the calamari was also lovely), while some left me underwhelmed (the sweet potato soup was strangely thin). It was all well done, but nothing was transporting really. Also, the temperature was odd on some — like some ought to have been hot, but were not.

When we got to our entrees, we were actually lucky, in that they were both lovely. Rick had the crab cake (natch), and I didn’t love it because it was filled with crab, instead of the filling stuff that I love:

I went with the beef tenderloin topped with a celery root ravioli:

This might have been one of the best beef dishes I have ever had. The beef was perfect, the ravioli a nice little change of pace, and the sauce rich but not ridiculous. It was really quite delightful.

Of course, we had dessert. Again, similar problems with labels. Plus, we were pretty full (gee, I can’t imagine why), so we didn’t go off:

We both went for the apple bourbon bread pudding, and we now understood why our server didn’t offer us alcohol, because that thing was strong — too strong. I went off with the raspberries, because how often do you get lovely raspberries in February? We settled the bill and were soon off to battle the crowds at the auto show.

The room and the service were both odd. The room is relatively formal: not quite as stuffy as I expected, perhaps in part to the loads of children there (who are these people who can afford to bring children here?), but it was also a bright day that lightened the room. It was a little too hotel-y for me though, something that Lacroix makes you forget about. We had at least four different people serve us, including the hostess/manager, who was actually the most attentive of the bunch. I hate tag-team service in general because I think it’s actually inefficient and definitely confusing. Our main server disappeared for long stretches and seemed uninterested in us. Not what I’m paying for.

So, the verdict? Lacroix, hands down. The presentation, the room, the service are all far superior, and I found the food to be more inventive, interesting, and put together. So, that makes things easy: when we need to spend over $100 on Sunday brunch, we know where to go.

PS: I should have known I was in trouble when there was no bacon to be found. Duh.

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.

Changes!

Per Phil’s swooning over it and my fond remembrances, Amada has taken over Pasion’s place on the Top 5. I know; you’re reeling.

The main reason for this is that Pasion is no longer with us, and while it may in fact be in the Top 5 all time, it’s not alive, and since the blog is all about sharing, then I should share something that people can enjoy.

Amada was absolutely wonderful. We had “La Mesa de Jose,” the $45 tapas menu devised at the chef’s discretion and were just blown away. The plates were unending and roundly wonderful. The service was great, and the setting (we were in a back room) was intimate and stylish. I highly recommend Amada and especially the tasting menu.

Osteria

640 North Broad Street, Philadelphia, PA 19130

http://www.osteriaphilly.com/

For quite a while, we’ve been coveting a reservation at Vetri, the little Italian boite in the gayborhood that many laud as the finest Italian restaurant in Philadelphia, if not the eastern seaboard, and therefore presumably America. No, I’m serious. Mario Batali said so.

However, reservations are difficult to come by, so all of Philadelphia rejoiced when Marc Vetri opened Osteria, a slightly less formal and definitely larger restaurant north on Broad–an odd place to put a restaurant, but give him marks for gumption.

We tackled it with fellow foodie, Donna, who had heard great things about both places from the national paper of record. We made a reservation on Open Table, and, though we were a bit early, they seated us relatively quickly. However, the table left some things to be desired. First, we were placed in the adjoining greenhouse space. The problem with the space was not temperature-related, though I assumed on a cold winter’s night that it would be cool. The problem with the space is two-fold: it is noisy (as conversations rattle off of the glass walls and the stone floor), and it just lacks any warmth of character. The tables are far apart, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the arrangement lacks the excitement of the interior spaces. Second, the table was plainly a two-top that had been transformed into a three-top. I asked the server if this was indeed going to work, and she assured me it would. It did, sort of: as the meal progressed, we were soon playing a game of plate and glass Twister, trying to find space for everything, and eventually moving things to the ledge above us to create more space. Overall, I felt like I was getting a bad a less-than-great table in a less-than-great space: not the kind of first impression one should give–everyone should have similar experiences of comfort, as much as possible.

However, the food made up for the space, as did the service. Since my memory is horrible, I can only remember what I had (this was about a month ago), and barely that.

We shared the pizze polpo — octopus, tomato, red chili flakes, and mozzarella:

Yeah, it was that good. It was perhaps a bit more “done” (read: burnt) than I would like, but the flavors and textures were wonderful.

My primi piatti was a gnocchi with parmesan, because I love me some gnocchi. The first place I ever had gnocchi? Salzburg, Austria, August 1992. One remembers these things. Anyway:

A little crock of heaven, frankly. I can say with certainty that this was the best gnocchi I have ever had. Unlike most gnocchi, these didn’t go into your stomach and expand, creating eight times their weight in dumpling goodness. No, these were light gnocchi, but certainly not “lite,” as that cheese and oil were there to help things along. God it was good.

Finally, I had a venison special, because, well, why not? I don’t remember how it was prepared, but it came with some potatoes:

It was very good. Not knockout, blow-me-down, but very good. (Also, can you see how cramped we were? Sheesh.)

From what I can remember, Rick had a soup (very good) and lamb (I think?); I don’t remember Donna’s first course, but she got the rabbit for dinner, and it was good as well. Perhaps they can fill things in in the comments. Here are pics to refresh their memories:

Perhaps I went in with crazy expectations, but who couldn’t? The meal was very good–food quality across the board great, excellent service, and fine drinks (limoncello!). However, I really think that initial impression somewhat soured me; moreover, I just wasn’t slapped upside the head by anything except the gnocchi, and that was just a little crock. I would definitely go again, and I would definitely recommend it, and I definitely still want to go to Vetri, but…it’s not in my Top 5. Sorry.

Lacroix

The Rittenhouse Hotel

210 West Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia, PA, 19103

http://www.lacroixrestaurant.com/

There are few things better than brunch, and I’m not talking about just dining “things”: I mean, in general, brunch is one of my favorite things in life. It features food, lots of it, friends and family, lolling about: what more could one ask for? I have experienced many fine brunches in my lifetime, starting as a child when church was actually more a pre-brunch activity than an actual destination: like I had to do penance to the brunch gods (yes, going to hell, blah blah fishcakes). Among my favorites as a child were Arnie’s and the Seahorse (sadly defunct). In grad school, economics dictated a rest, but of late, I’ve had some fabulous ones, including the infamous Sterling Brunch in Vegas (about which there will probably be a “fond remembrance” post), and some bad ones (I’m talking to you, Coleman; seriously, don’t go there–it’s a total rip-off).

However, there is really nothing to compare to the Sunday Brunch at Lacroix at the Rittenhouse. It has become almost my life’s mission to turn people on to this place, and everyone I have recommended it to–all of whom first blanched at the sticker price of over $50–have thanked me to the point of embarrassment.

For our third visit, we went with Roland, Philip, and Mike to celebrate the holidays and pig out.

So, Lacroix is a great restaurant in its own right, but they don’t turn their brunch into a cash cow by skimping on quality and just providing quantity. They do both, and do it well.

So, just to set the stage, the room overlooks Rittenhouse Square, and is decorated plushly but modernly in green hues and dark wood. For brunch, the restaurant is given over to presentation. When you enter, you come upon a long table featuring cold dishes, at the end of which sits the raw bar. Once you can tear yourself away from that round, you are escorted into the kitchen, where the hot dishes are located, as well as the chocolate fountain and liquid nitrogen station (oh, don’t worry, we’ll get there). If you have room, the dessert table (ahem, “Garden Table”) awaits:

OK, enough with the setup. By the way, what follows is not for the faint of heart.

Plate #1

(Clockwise from bottom left: salmon crudo, fennel condiment; foie gras ganache; Parmesan “puff,” anchovy, roasted garlic; caramel green apple soda (off plate); unsure; California roll; BBQ eel roll; caviar; spiced baked apple panzanetta)

OK, obviously the star for me here was the puff. The foie gras ganache was, if possible, not foie gras-y enough for us, though I thought it was delightful nonetheless. Here’s the thing about this place: often I will be bowled away just by the very idea of the stuff they came up with. The ganache was like that. The panzanella was very good as well.

Plate #2 (sorry for blurriness; it’s the excitement of it all)

(Clockwise from bottom right: warm chickpea soup, homemade pitas; pulled beef hot pockets; smoked sturgeon salad, potato, horseradish vinaigrette; caviar; “chips and dip” (basically a homemade guacamole))

Yeah, so, going in, who would have thunk that a simple warm chickpea soup would be in the running for best of show? Wow. This little soup (oh, and are you noticing the fabulousness of the portions? Perfection) had us all losing our eyes in the backs of their sockets. It was perfectly smooth, tasting of the most wonderful chickpeas with hints of the expected spices: it was just amazing. We were licking the teacups.

Plate #3 (note, we are not even out of the cold dishes)

(Clockwise from bottom left: chilled spaghetti squash salad, truffle, sunchoke (my second time with this ingredient: the first was a soup at Majolica (see links on right) that was amazing. I may need to try my hand at sunchokes. Yeah, right.), cranberry; warm chickpea soup (everyone is shocked: the first thing anyone said when someone else returned from the cold table was, “are there still chickpea soups?”); crispy potatoes, escargot fricassee; coddled quail eggs with homemade mustard, smoked trout roe.)

Well, obviously there is the soup. However, the potato and escargot number was really quite nice. The potato was nice and light and balanced the earthiness of the escargot well. The spaghetti squash salad was not that memorable, but I loved the consistency of it, and the very idea.

Plate #4 (actually Philip’s because I forgot to photograph my final cold plate because I was beginning to enter a food coma.)

The key thing to mention here is on the bottom: the polenta fries. They had been constantly missing whenever I went up (an oddity, as they are usually quite good about keeping things in stock on the tables), but I finally snagged one and knew why: crispy yet soft, the fry was topped with homemade “ketchup” (God knows why they used scare quotes), which reminded you of potato fries, but balanced nicely with the polenta’s flavor. It was great.

Plate #5 (Hot Stuff!)

(Clockwise from top left: Niman Ranch smoked bacon; unsure: might be a crab cake; rabbit leg paella; unsure: might be sweet potato; Guinness braised beef short rib; center: poached organic eggs, lobster and leeks)

First, the bacon. One of my first websites reviewed brunches, and I had a separate rating for bacon. I love bacon. I own bacon salt. This is some damn fine bacon. The paella was fine; the poached eggs were awfully good (and isn’t that thing they’re in just the dickens? Lacroix has the best containers. Given the restaurant’s ridiculous use of them, we decided that we are going to open a ramekin-only restaurant. Don’t we need this?); the ribs were ridiculous: almost literally melt in your mouth. God they were good.

Plate #whatever

(Clockwise from bottom: bacon (natch); handmade sausage dumplings, truffled white beans; roasted duck breast with cherry compote; axis venison loin au poivre, huckleberry gin jus (well, sure: I make that every Sunday); savory Tuscan bread pudding with fontina and asiago cheese; brussels sprouts with bacon and chestnuts; pumpkin seed pancakes with pumpkin butter)

Yeah, this might have been the best plate. The meats were ridiculous: so tender, so creative, so complex. The bread pudding? Seriously? My God. It put sweet bread puddings to shame, kicking them while they were down, asking them who their daddy was. I don’t know if I have had brussels sprouts more than a couple of times in my life, and if they are half as good as these, I’ve been missing out big time. The pancakes were just pumpkin-y enough, and would you look at the color of that pumpkin butter?

Plate #mmmfffmfmfmmf (me trying to keep going with a mouth and stomach stuffed; sorry again for the focus)

(clockwise from bottom: gratin of potato, lemon, and roasted hazelnuts; food of the gods; belgian waffle with fresh mixed berries)

The gratin had an amazing flavor combination: the lemon was just barely there, but added a wonderful acidity to the pedestrian potato, and the crunch of the hazelnuts were awfully welcome. It was an inspired dish.

Plate #I really should stop…oh, but there’s dessert!

(clockwise from top right: rice crispy treat dipped in the 5-foot tall chocolate fountain; vanilla ice cream with raspberry coulis; milk chocolate malt foam with banana gelee)

Yeah, so the liquid nitrogen station. Here’s what happens. The pastry chef at the station loads a dollop of the foam, tops it with the banana gelee, and then encloses the gelee with another dollop of foam. She then opens the vat of liquid nitrogen and plunges the orb into it. What comes out is this quick-frozen though not hard concoction. Is it worth all of the trouble? Probably not (it was good, but not life-altering), but the theater!

Plate #Must stop eating can’t focus

(orange poppyseed cake with sour cream frosting; coffee pot de creme)

Both were excellent. Frankly, I can’t remember. The food coma was in full effect.

We started at 11, right when they open; we left at 2:45. I had umpteen glasses of water, cups of coffee, trips to the bathroom; I also got the wine duet with a lovely glass of bubbly (Marquis de la Tour) and a glass of a 2004 Chateau Saint-Suplice Bordeaux.

I can’t tell you what it all cost; whatever it was was worth it ($100? maybe more?). Oh, I haven’t mentioned service. Our waiter was sort of odd (like he was nervous, though he’d obviously worked there a while), but the service overall was impeccable: attentive, but not cloying; knowledgeable and respectful–they didn’t once glare at us for our gluttony.

So, yeah. You have to go if you are the area. At some point, we will probably try the other Philadelphia brunch standby, the Fountain, but it’s hard to say no to another trip to Lacroix.