What to Know Before You Go: Credit cards accepted, outdoor seating available.
Buy a Bottle At: 1318 Walnut St., Philadelphia.
No, really: I like my gnocchi gummy. There's something about the risk associated with potentially pulling out my dental caps with each bite that really gets me going. Well, maybe not. But the fact remains that, for homemade gnocchi, these were pretty mediocre. The sauce with the Gnocchi Primavera, however, was fine: wild mushrooms, prosciutto di Parma and peas in a light-ish vodka sauce. Too bad the pasta was just so-so. And the veal was disappointing at best. I'll never understand why some less-than-great restaurants insist on melting cheese atop everything, even seafood. I suppose it's because it covers up other flavors, but that seems like cheating to me, not to mention a waste of crabmeat. Preceding these, I tasted the arugula salad. It actually was quite nice. The bitterness of the greens, the sourness of the lemon and the saltiness of the generous slices of cheese were all well balanced. A perfectly nice salad like this, however, can only constitute false advertising when it is followed by dishes as uninspiring as the two I tasted. Fortunately, dessert was more in keeping with the meal as a whole. The tiramisu was bland and vaguely metallic. And in that sense, it was actually rather comforting. Consistency, for better or worse, is always reassuring.
1328 Pine St., Philadelphia, 215.545.6265.
Maccabeam
What to Know Before You Go: Credit cards accepted.
Buy a Bottle At: 1218 Chestnut St., Philadelphia.
Some restaurants wear their national origins on their sleeves-sitar players sitting cross-legged in the corner, waiters wearing lederhosen-and as a result, the kitsch often tends to overwhelm the food you supposedly went there for in the first place. This is not the case with Maccabeam, a small restaurant on South 12th Street that serves some of the most authentic Israeli food in the city. The kefta kebab, a ground and charbroiled mixture of beef, onions, parsley and intensely flavorful spices, is delicious. The rich flavors are attenuated perfectly by the almost pillowy homemade pita it's served in. The homemade hummus is lighter and more elegant than the chickpea glue most restaurants serve. And there's no better way to end a meal here than with a wedge of baklava, a simple, satisfying dessert that perfectly balances the sweetness of honey with the bitterness of ground walnuts, all wrapped in delicate layers of phyllo dough. So aside from a few posters of Israel on the wall, the cultural and culinary authenticity of Maccabeam comes from exactly where it should - the food.
128 S.12th St., Philadelphia, 215.922.5922.
Essene Café
What to Know Before You Go: Credit cards accepted.
Buy a Bottle At: 724 South St., Philadelphia.
I'll eat anything-it's one of the requirements of my job. After all, in order to work as a restaurant critic, I have to be willing to try everything, no matter how strange it might sound. So I've had beef cheek ravioli, pan-seared meat from a lamb's heart, and sautéed duck kidneys. Actually, those three items are delicious, but that's neither here nor there. The point is this: I love food, whether it's Chinese-style jellyfish or fruit salad. Which is why I was so offended by my "meal" at Essene Café, because as far as I can tell, it wasn't food they were serving-it was a lifestyle for people who actually don't like food, or any of the sensual pleasure that can be derived from it. Everything here is, as Essene's web site says, "free of animal products." And while I certainly do not believe that animal products are a necessary component of a decent meal, the abominations on offer at Essene were, in fact, devoid of a great deal more than animal products-like flavor, elegance, and any remotely appetizing qualities whatsoever. The dairy-free macro-lasagna looked like day-old mac and cheese and tasted like a third grader's science-fair project-from 1983. The seitan with portabella mushroom sauce had the consistency of Elmer's glue and the subtle mushroom aroma of Kennett Square on a hot day in August. The vegetable dishes that didn't try to be anything but vegetable dishes weren't too bad, but by the time I got to them, my tastebuds had already gone on strike. Fortunately, I had a great corned beef sandwich on my way home. Zeke's Deli in Society Hill is the best.
What to Know Before You Go: Credit cards accepted, outdoor seating available, reservations recommended on weekends.
Buy a Bottle At: 1446 Point Breeze Ave., Philadelphia.
As the dining culture of Philadelphia has evolved, the term "South Philly restaurant" has become a bit of a pejorative. For too many people, it means a décor that hasn't changed since the original Rocky was filmed, and oversized bowls of pasta swimming in sauce-or, in South Philly, gravy-but devoid of much flavor. Nido, however, could not be more different. The space is quietly beautiful and subtly sophisticated, and the dishes that come out of this kitchen are as flavorful and satisfying as any in the neighborhood. The grilled octopus appetizer is insanely tender and dressed with nothing more complicated than garlic, extra virgin olive oil, lemon and parsley, which allow the richness of the meat to play the leading role to delicious effect. Fettuccine al Nido is every bit as tasty as a namesake dish should be. The homemade pasta is tossed with diced tomatoes, peas, artichokes, and asparagus and anointed with truffle oil. At $15, it may be one of the best pasta bargains around. But make sure you save room for dessert, especially the ricotta cheesecake. Calories and carbs be damned-this one's worth it.
1540 W. Ritner St., Philadelphia, 215.755.0860.
Cherry Street Chinese Vegetarian Restaurant
What to Know Before You Go: Credit cards accepted, closed Wednesdays.
Buy a Bottle At: 1218 Chestnut St., Philadelphia.
I'd like to post a sign in the kitchen of Cherry Street Chinese Vegetarian Restaurant that says the following: "Cornstarch and other thickening agents do not enhance flavor!" I don't know if it would do any good, but I'm willing to take the chance. Because I think that somewhere, hiding deep down beneath the gummy texture of the hot and sour soup, and the slightly less-gooey sauce of the Buddha's delight pan-fried noodles, lie some reasonably appealing-if standard-flavors. But that soup, an ordinary assemblage of mushrooms, tofu and the other usual Americanized-Chinese food suspects, was so thick that it resembled a stew more closely than it did a soup. And the pan-fried noodles, while perfectly okay on their own, were drowned in a flavorless beige sauce. It reminded me of the kind of pasta dishes that cheap Italian restaurants serve, a gallon of sauce for every few bites of mushy noodles. Some of the veggies (the Buddha part of this otherwise not-too-delightful dish) weren't overcooked, and I found myself rooting through the sauce to find them. The food here is also certified kosher, and as a nod in the direction of the Jewish culinary tradition, they offer a dish called golden feather knishes. These deep-fried oil bombs find the perfect unhappy medium between Chinese egg rolls and Jewish knishes. Next time I want a knish, I'll go to Famous 4th Street Deli. And when I crave an egg roll, I'll go to Charles Plaza for vegetarian Chinese food with some flavor.
