I was scared.
I knew that each plate brought out for the chef’s tasting menu would be meticulously crafted and prepared with uncommon ingredients, but I also knew that some of the dishes were not for the faint of heart. Oxtail. Tiger milk. Spanish octopus. Quail egg. Each time the server came over to our table I perked up, eyeing up the next dish, trying to figure out if was going to be the best thing I ever tasted (see below: Manchego puffs) or if I was going to politely chew small bits in an effort to swallow something I wasn’t sure was an animal, vegetable or man-made emulsion of both.
While I was waiting for my White Orchard post-meal tea, I made a mental list of my overall feelings about Chifa, knowing I’d be inundated with questions from my friends upon my return for this Peruvian/Cantonese wonderland. Feeling a bit like Anthony Bourdain after another culinary adventure, I committed a few of the following points to memory. (The most important being: bring a laptop to Google all the menu items you’re date will surely ask you about, as if you were a Cantonese farmer yourself.)
Decor: Immediate oohs and ahhs, as would be expected from a Garces restaurant. The buttery-smooth leather seats of the booths were addictive. (I rubbed them creepily all during dinner like Buffalo Bill. Luckily, my date did the same). A ceviche bar–made from antique draws and rings–and a long, golden family dining table are center stage in the dining room. Private booths with beaded curtains and sepia-toned landscape wallpaper are nestled in two of the Eastern corners. The booths have an Asian feel with geometric lighting fixtures and wenge-hatched dividers separate the seating areas. The downstairs lounge is narrow, but chic with private rooms surrounded in glassy blue subway tiles.
Favorites: Interestingly enough, the best part of the dinner was the free part. Pre-dinner rolls had warm, heavenly insides (made sweet with cream fresca and Manchego) like popovers and were served with spicy guava butter. It was unanimous that the duck wonton soup with Peking broth was amazing, even for the diners who weren’t a fan of the Donald (the cartoon, not the toupee).
Least Favorites: The oyster shooters were white milky hits of "leche de tigre," conch and pisco espuma, a sweet grape liquor foam. The whole mouthful was off-putting in its texture at first but, all apprehensions aside, put your faith in the kitchen and the final taste will be something surprisingly good. This holds true for other dishes here, like the quail egg Chupe with purple potatoes and mote (a peachy sugar water)–get past the textures and mysterious contents and you may just discover you like something new.
Closing Statement: Not for picky dates, closed-minded business partners or Hungry Man husbands.
AroundPhilly Staff
