July 14, 2008
By: Ken Alan
kalan@aroundphilly.com
Probably the best piece of advice I’ve ever been given was from a gentleman by the name of David Mantelmacher, a restaurateur whom I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for many years. When an opportunity to purchase my dream restaurant came about in 1999, I sought Mantelmacher out to get his opinion on the matter.
“You want my advice? Stay out of the restaurant business.”
Then, in 2004, yet another situation presented itself and once again, I called upon him to get sage-y on me.
“Don’t you remember what I told you the last time we had this kind of conversation? Stay out of the restaurant business.” He then went on to explain the tribulations, low-to-nil profit margins, and general dramas that occur everyday in the ‘biz.
Mantelmacher, who operates Plate Restaurant, which is tucked neatly into tony Suburban Square (Ardmore), may not practice his own preach, yet he, unlike me, has restaurant-ing embedded deep in his veins, so he’s built for this kind of work.
His first notable foray was a restaurant on Walnut Street in Center City called Circa, a site still revered as one of Philly’s first trendsetting operations – a stunning restaurant-turns-club that had glam galore.
Circa was a real groundbreaker. Its former bank setting – lofty ceilings, rows of cathedral-like candles, and a bank vault as a dining room - created vast buzz and acclaim three years before restaurateur Neil Stein opened his Striped Bass one block away. Fine food by night, and then the tables got pushed to the side to make way for dancing long before Denim or the Walnut Room were ever glimmers in investor eyes.
Other than fancy-schmancy Le Bec-Fin and a unique Asian newcomer called Susanna Foo, Circa (circa early-‘90s) was about the only other major player along Walnut Street.
Economics forced Mantelmacher to move on, and out for that matter. Ten years after debuting Circa, his new venture, Plate, became a suburban one – a catch-all place for every age, offering a cornucopia of experiences.
It’s an “it” bar for happy hour, with impossibly healthy-looking Main Liners enjoying their splashy martinis and glasses of wine, a moms-with-kids spot and ladies-who-shop stop at lunchtime, and a let’s-not-cook-tonight dinner one, too. I’ve seen date nights al fresco at Plate, small parties in celebration, and have had a decent Sunday brunch there on occasion.
Plate is stylish and alluring. The DAS Architect-designed space has a spare, shimmer-y look with wood grains and flat composites meshing nicely with futurist metallic fixtures and overhead lighting; one half IKEA and the other, NASA.
The menu strives to be affordable, offering feel-good comfort foods. Beginnings reflect this coda: crispy calamari with a chili vinaigrette, steamed Prince Edward Island mussels, and especially, the roasted plum tomato soup, accompanied by an orangey island of a cheddar grilled-cheese sandwich, are nestling-in winners.
Plate’s evening bill of fare has remained fairly stationary over the years with Mantelmacher seeming to know what his public wants, which is not nouveau, tapas-y or vertical foods. His plates, as they were, are satiating affairs – roasted herb chicken, pork chop, slow-cooked beef brisket – rib-sticking stuff. Pizzas, too, are a big seller here, earthy and cheesy disks emerging from the stone-fired oven.
And a few other staples, items I remember enjoying long ago, are still just as tempting today, especially the cedar plank salmon, lightly drizzled with lemon-thyme beurre blanc – a most consistent dish.
One of Plate’s best features though is its desserts. I’m pretty sure that pastry artist Angela Tustin (formerly from The Fountain at the Four Seasons) has been at it there since day one.
Homemade ice cream, a dusty bag ‘o doughnuts (complete with a coffee dipping sauce), a painter’s palette of smudgy chocolates and smeary, sweet nibblers – Tustin, I have always felt, is one of the best at what she does in our region.
Despite the blue ribbons that drape this Plate, there are, alas, a few red flags, FYI’s that tend to bring Plate down a few notches from its kitschy-coolness, leaving it occasionally unbalanced.
Most of those foibles I’ve experienced or have heard about/read (local chat sites have not been so kind to Plate), are in the service category, lack-of-training, junior-varsity moments that seem to occur too often there.
A recent lunch (for that supreme salmon) was fine, and our server was quiet and proficient, yet the host staff was a young, unsmiling bunch who did little to welcome patrons, or wish us all back for that matter.
A subsequent fact-checking phone call furthered the muddled ‘tude. When I asked for the chef’s name (it’s Scott Aaron though the Web site states another long-departed toque), “I’m not sure” was the answer. Ditto the pastry chef’s name. Can you spell David’s last name for me? “Uh, no.”
This is a profession in which my recommendation is only as good as that of my clientele’s, and my readers.
This stated, it dismays me to continually hear about ongoing service lapses and occasional kitchen misfires at Plate, the “it can be good, but I wouldn’t call it a destination” dialogue I get far too often when asking for commentary about the site.
To Mantelmacher, who twice saved me from the pain of assured entrepreneurial disaster by providing me with key advice (I promise to never go into the restaurant business!), I offer this small dish of wisdom in return:
Keep working with management to instill ongoing measures that provide more uniformity throughout the staff; try and maintain an expediter on the food line constantly, and if you’re not doing so now, consider hiring a top-notch shopper service to point out food and service issues while keeping your crew on its toes.
It’s guys like me, not you, David, who shouldn’t be in the restaurant business.
But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s where greatness can lie once the goodness prevails.
Visit Plate
