I don’t care what The Who once said, rock really isn’t dead. It’s still rolling along quietly at the back of the tour bus while other, more mainstream musical styles ride shotgun.
The same may be said about true fine dining. There once was a time in the distant past when a top-tier meal was accompanied by sterling service: white gloved, tuxedo-clad wait staffers who would cater to clientele with utmost refinery, lovingly filleting their Dover sole tableside and dramatically ladling velvety bisques without anything less than a soupçon of dignified flourish.
Today, many high-end places operate to the dismal dirge that is being played by the groaning economy. Likewise, they must deal with the uprising of new players on the scene: multi-million dollar theme restaurants offering see-and-be-seen experiences to go along with copious amounts of food and drink. (As a concierge, I can tell you that seven out of 10 reservations I am asked to make today are at one of Philly’s Big 5 uber-eateries, most of them owned by Stephen Starr and Jose Garces, two guys with great industry gravitas.)Besides theses glitzy spots, another type of restaurant has truly busted up the big-ticket dining market: BYO’s. Such a popular Philly thing, nightly throngs enjoying lower pricing to go along with their savings on wine. So, between the Buddakans and Bistro 7’s of this land, former leading acts of haute gastronomy have become today’s back-up performers.
Along the suburbs then, it is refreshing to see traditions in excellence remain, such as the constant culinary spirit imparted at Savona in Gulph Mills. There, the fabled sea-centric cuisines of St. Tropez and the Riviera are still very much in tune, refined yet sprightly executed fare from executive chef Andrew Masciangelo, who continues to uphold the expert riffs laid out by the site’s original owners when it debuted as a fine dining restaurant in 1995.
Prior, this former home of second vice president, Aaron Burr, had been, for years, The Picket Post, a manse of glory till its owner let it go to seed as the 1990’s began. Then, a gentleman by the name of Evan Lambert helped inject many dollars and much skilled labor into the property, turning it into a Riviera-inspired stunner with an elegant Mediterranean style. This new restaurant, called Tierra, soon became Savona a year later, helmed at that point by Dominique Filoni who was recently top toque at—you guessed it—Stephen Starr’s Parc. After learning about Filoni’s imminent departure, chef Masciangelo took the lead.
Terra cotta coloring so deep you can taste it permeates around hand blown sconces, across the thick woven carpeting, along the topaz and raw umber flooring tiles and oil paintings that burst forth with vivid coastal scenes. Enter and you are walking toward a custom cherry bar with wrought iron balustrades that is one of the Main Line’s most serene drinking places. The restaurant also contains two dramatic private event spaces—the shimmering wine room downstairs and a larger expanse on the second floor.
Savona continues to ring out in French and Italian harmonies, nearly seamless European service and it retains that copious 1,100 wine bottle inventory, one of the largest in PA. The wine list itself is encyclopedian in scope.
It was good to be back.
Immediately, I recognized general manager Stephane Buliard, a paragon of civility. Our main server, a fastidious gentleman named Josh, was also familiar to me. I recalled him from another meal there at least six years ago, which says a lot about staff retention as much as it does about Josh’s happiness with his employer.
These two professionals plus a cabal of several other table maintainers made our meal at Savona a near-precision exercise in service etiquette.
The menu, as I’ve mentioned, is tinged by salt and fresh waterways, with a definite Medi-Franco beat.
Crusty house made baguettes arrived; a whimsical amuse bouche, an oyster mojito shooter, gleaming minty green, followed. Down the hatch, sweetly it went.
My wife, Dana, ordered the pumpkin lobster soup, a hearty terrine of thick autumn, leveled by tender meat chunks swimming amid delicate pumpkin seed oil.
After my own first course, I could have almost called it quits: Maine lobster fettuccini combined with buttery Hudson Valley foie gras, morels and edamame in an exotic mushroom nage. It was one of the most satisfying if not the most indulgent dishes I’ve had in a long time.
Second courses followed on cue.
For Dana, one of the few land-locked Savona menu offerings (elk is the other right now), Burgundy braised veal cheeks with brandy glazed butternut squash and parsnips, an outstanding feel-good example of what many hours of meat set to comfort-simmer can be.
My black cod was kissed lightly by Cabernet, sided by pureed cauliflower, baby fennel and toasted almonds.
Both dishes succeeded in their execution and offered vivid complexities, though each was an enjoyable challenge to fully consume due to such rich beginnings. Ditto the fluffy chocolate-syrup-soaked soufflé to finish the meal.
Early on, we were warmly greeted by Savona’s new sommelier, Melissa Monosoff, who can boast more product to work with than most of her contemporaries in the commonwealth. She helped guide my wife toward a nice, not-too-sweet Riesling, while I stated I would wait a bit before ordering a glass myself.
We never got a check-back from Monosoff, thus, I opted not to drink of the vine that night. Just as well, since it was a misty evening fraught with much back-roads driving later on.
I was surprised that Monosoff didn’t make a return visit, especially since the restaurant was maybe half full, a sign of these economic times perhaps.
Big ticket to be sure, and replete with a level of service that is equaled at just a few high-enders in our region (such as the Fountain at the Four Seasons), Savona is a special occasion experience that fulfills its promise to exemplify what true dining is supposed to convey.
Many of today’s restaurants may be swathed in thematic settings and offer the scene of the moment, and there is certainly a place in our lives for them. Special restaurants like Savona, though a flagging breed, will nevertheless endure as long as the right creative minds come together to create passion along their plates and hospitality throughout their rooms, like sentimental rock musicians jamming to that epic masterpiece.
To chef Masciangelo and his staff, I flick my Bic high above me, hoping to experience an encore performance.
AroundPhilly Staff
