June 23, 2008
By: Ken Alan
kalan@aroundphilly.com
Each week I gratefully receive roughly 100 emails from publicists, visitors’ bureaus, and chambers of commerce, all striving diligently to promote their particular client’s points of interest.
I get correspondences touting Chestnut Hill and Phoenixville, Manayunk and Germantown, eastward into Haddonfield and then on in the other direction toward West Chester. Valley Forge kindly keeps me in their loop, and so does Exton.
Thanks to these press machinations, I learn what’s what. Then I pass their information along to my corporate clientele, concierge colleagues, and to readers like you. After all, out of sight, out of mind, right?
With all this good promotion going on, it has become so frustratingly difficult for me to comprehend the utter lack of communication by the Village of Skippack in the heart of Montgomery County. This green country chestnut, with its antique and café-lined main street, is like a storybook wonderland, a quaint Victorian scene that exudes four-seasons charm for so many potential locals and tour groups alike.
When it comes to niche definition though, Skippack is intent on remaining that “hidden gem.” Sometimes though being a best-kept-secret can turn into what appears to be needless pandering to the locals-only. Or, maybe it’s all just a lack of insight into how to produce good old [effective] public relations.
In the past, I’ve called to ask to speak with the village’s marketing director – “We don’t have one” quickly killed that idea. I have requested to interview the town’s major backer, developer/entrepreneur David Markel, for two regional magazines – his secretary turned me down flat. I have visited the town’s website and have been afforded a concise calendar of events – circa 2006. And I have tried to contact several of the restaurants there for potential client bookings: Brasserie 73, Hotel Fiesole and Roadhouse Grille. You guessed it: no returned phone calls.
The other restaurant where outreach has been doled out in sporadic increments has been Parc Bistro, which is my favorite eatery within the village.
Since it opened in 1997, I have enjoyed the eclectic sensibilities of this consistent place, where its slogan, “A little bit French; a little bit Country; a little bit Italian” sums the scene up nicely.
Set off the main road, the stately building is an interior decorator’s dream. Wood flooring and hewn beams abound; windows are wide and high, their solid frames painted in soothing teal, while walls emit terracotta warmth. Throughout, working fireplaces and avant-garde prints create a pleasant and welcoming atmosphere.
Parc possesses many fine qualities. Its bar (like sibling site Brasserie 73 across the street, which is also owned by Markel) is one of Montco’s better (upscale) drinking spots, a very country clubby crowd always having a good time.
The main floor has several dining rooms – nice for a romantic meal or one out with friends. Upstairs offers nice spaces for small groups, and for other private events. The outdoor brick patio is a lovely convening place as well.
And Parc Bistro has another aspect that you should know. I’ll share it with you since you probably aren’t getting any of their marketing materials either. It’s called Le Club, a barn-like structure out back, a site I’ve found to be one of the better private event spaces in the Delaware Valley for accommodating up to 100 people.
I stopped by the bistro not long ago for a quick lunch, introducing myself to the day manager and inquiring about the space for a private party. Understandably, as the staff was setting up for an imminent event, he couldn’t take me through it. “Leave your card and I’ll call you when it’s free to tour.”
Okay, except no call, and no return call when I tried to reach out again. Needless to say, I moved on to more welcoming environs.
Meanwhile, lunch was fine. The menu was interesting, with a few tempting entrees: crab salad Napoleon, potato-wrapped halibut and grilled jerk quail. Parc is highly noted for its wood-fired pizzas as well.
My cornmeal scallops over baby bok choy and lobster sauce was very good, not inexpensive at $13, but well-conceived and nicely presented. And familiar, too. Looking back through some prior restaurant notes, I later discovered it was the exact same dish I had a few months back at nearby Brasserie 73.
Throughout my meal, my server was friendly, though she was continually absent, surprisingly so since, at 2:30pm, I was only one of two tables in the dining room. In all, one entrée and two water refills took an hour and twenty minutes.
At dinner late last month, a business acquaintance and I shared one of those pizzas, the classic margherita, its fresh dough blistered to fiery perfection. We also split a small plate of peeky-toe crab rolls. The too-crisp rice paper wonton possessed crunch from julienne vegetables and had a zippy mustard dressing, though little discernable meat.
We wished to stay and possibly share a large plate (these items are priced quite nicely - nothing but the ribeye for under $25) but again, service lapses kept us there too long. Twenty-five minutes after asking for our check a different server simply dropped it off with no thank-you or salutations.
Which appears par for the course here in mysterious Skippack Village. Fine gems and unique treasures can be had within this cozy and special locale, you just have to know where to look for them, and don’t expect too many on board willing to help you with the digging.
