October 9, 2008
By: Brian Freedman
bfreedman@aroundphilly.com
Things started off well. A basket of warm bread, after all, can cure all manner of problems: broken heart, sniffles, general grouchiness. You name it, and good, crusty, gently steaming bread has it covered.
And, indeed, the team behind Da Vinci has clearly thought out their bread program. Even the side dish of eggplant puree worked well, its creamy texture and understated, tongue-coating richness an accompaniment that adeptly enhanced each bite of doughy goodness without obscuring it.
But while it was an excellent start, that careful consideration didn’t quite follow through to the rest of the menu or, actually, to the overall experience of dining at this South Philly spot that still has a bit of work to do before it becomes destination-worthy.
As I expected, the bruschetta was a standout, all highly seasoned brightness balanced out with just the right amount of fruity, ever-so-peppery olive oil. Even the amount of tomato topping piled on the sliced bread was thoughtful, heightening rather than diminishing its essential strong suits.
Tomatoes also brightened up the mussels, along with the old reliable southern Italian combination of garlic and white wine. And, in fact, this was one of the better preparations of this particular mollusk I’ve had recently. The mussels themselves were perfectly moist and tender, and excellent briny vessels to carry the flavor of the broth they arrived in. I just wish there had been a touch more of it to sop up.
Entrees, as so often seems to be the case lately, weren’t quite where I’d hoped they would be. Polpette Leonardo, baseball-sized meatballs constructed of chicken, veal and mortadella, were hearty and rich on their own. In fact, they were dense enough that I’m not certain the anchor of mascarpone mashed potatoes was necessarily the best choice; the combination teetered on the
edge of overly heavy. But the real problem was with the description of the sauce. It appeared on the menu as a “white wine glazed sauce,” whereas in reality, it was far closer to a demi-glace than anything else. It wasn’t bad by any stretch, mind you, just not what was implied by the menu.
A homemade spaghetti special with sardines, while a fantastic idea, didn’t quite live up to expectations either. Sardines are still a woefully underused ingredient, and I give this kitchen credit for incorporating them into a dish. But they needed something lighter alongside them to balance out their uber-briny flavor. As it was, they overpowered everything else—even the sweetness of the raisins floating throughout—and rendered the pasta, a mammoth portion, fairly one-dimensional.
The upside of such an over-sardine-y entrée was that sweets were an absolute necessity. The tiramisu, which the waiter described as one of the best in the city, can, indeed, take its place in the Philly Italian Dessert Pantheon, all cakey lightness and velvety cream. The chocolate cheesecake, however, was gritty, and tasted more like cookie batter than anything else.
Still, Da Vinci shows promise, especially in the kitchen’s willingness to take the occasional chance (sardines, meatball entree
senza pasta). But right now, there needs t
o be a renewed sense of focus on the little details that will make their big-picture vision really come through as clearly as it should.
It doesn’t seem to be hurting business, though: A recent Saturday night, in the midst of the first wave of this autumn’s economic drama, saw a packed dining room and a clearly overwhelmed staff. (My nearly two-hour meal could have been closer to one-and-a-half.) And glancing around the warmly decorated dining room—Renaissance prints on the walls, heavy drapery above the windows—I couldn’t find anyone in the crowd who didn’t seem to be happy with the proceedings. I couldn’t help but imagine, though, how much brighter their smiles would have been had everything come off as crisply and as precisely as I imagine it was intended to.
