I really like Panzano restaurant. Really. It’s not really the authentic Italian I tyoically go for; it’s much more a nouveau American restaurant that’s heavily influenced by Italian techniques. Take, for example, the rosemary pasta:

It was served with pine nuts, goat cheese, dried cranberries, microgreens and and a lemon nage. It was fabulous, both light and savory. Inspirational cooking at its best.

A few weeks ago at the Appetite for Awareness event, I ate a small cup of cassoulet – pork and beans – that stopped me in my tracks. Made by chef Gene Giuffi at Cochon, one of Philadelphia’s best BYOBs, its flavors were both complex yet simple, providing both pleasure and intrigue to even the most sophisticated palates. In anything other than its prosciutto form, pork had never intrigued me…until then.

Finally got there for dinner tonight, with longtime friend Jeff and (hopefully) new friend Cem. We ate lots of tasty treats: escargot with shiitake mushrooms, fried oysters with the loveliest shaved fennel slaw I’ve ever tasted, and a charcuterie plate with house-cured meats and a pickled tomato-cornichon salad topped with zesty arugula microgreens. And that was just the beginning.

Main dishes included duck breast with white bean cassoulet and garlic sausage (just the right amount), quail with roasted veggies and more sausage, and St. Canut Farm Porcelet – a baby pig fed only milk – served with wild mushroom risotto and juniper oil.

I’d never eaten porcelet before. Seared simply and fanned on a bed of rice, it was far more moist and tender than any pork that’s come before. How so? According to the Fermet St Canut Farms website:

Our milk-fed Yorkshire piglets, raised since birth in a family environment, maintain their natural nursing rhythm until reaching the live weight of 28 kg. … From the slaughter stage to the cutting, St-Canut products are air-chilled for 48 hours. … In the New York market, the cutting to delivery stage is no more than 60 hours.

I truly do not know what this really means; I’m just looking for something to anchor the experience of eating it.  The risotto, sadly, was the only thing in the entire meal that was not pleasing. While its flavors were earthy, its texture had turned to gruel, a testament to the peasant techniques Giuffi has mastered — in an otherwise good way.

Despite the textureless rice, the meal at Cochon was one of the best I’ve eaten in Philadelphia, hands down. Giuffi is brilliant; I love that he’s an Italian-American doing French better than anyone else in town. Can’t wait to go back.

Finally: a pizzeria in Philadelphia that’s not only thought deeply about how to get it right, but is striving to get there. Could domenica sera pizza parties actually be in my Philadelphia future?

Going to Stephen Starr’s Pizzeria Stella tonight was a total surprise, so no pictures. Our group included the chef, the architect and his cousin the art historian: all foodies, all Italian-born, and all longing for a taste of home.

The art historian ordered, unsurprisingly, the classic pizza margherita: with basil, tomato and mozzarella di bufala, it’s  the standard by which all other pizzas are judged. The basil leaves were giant-sized, the sauce not too heavy-handed, and the cheese neither scant nor plentiful. From across the table, it looked just about right. She neither said much about it nor shared it with others: a good sign that she was, in fact, enjoying it.

The chef ordered the pizza marinara: with san marzano tomato, oregano and sliced garlic, the least appealing choice on the menu, imho. Its center failed to hold its form as he picked up slice after slice, but the chef says the tomatoes were good. The crust, not so much. Some work is needed.

The architect got what most intrigued me, the finocchio: braised fennel, black olives, tomato and I’m not sure what else, as the pizza is not published on any of the online menus I’ve seen! I know we did, indeed, eat it, and that its flavors were lovely despite the sagging crust. Apparently, getting the right amount of toppings and the right “cottura” in the center of the pie is a trick the kitchen still needs to work out.

I was seduced by a twist on my all-time favorite prosciutto e arugula, and ordered the San Daniele: smoked mozzarella, San Daniele prosciutto and baby arugula. The crust on mine was just right: crispy through the center, bubbles of char, a bit of chew in the crust.  It was a bit dry, however, with the smoked mozzarella unassuming, and a bit salata (oversalted), masking what should have been the sweetness of one of Italy’s finest prosciutto. While no Il Pizzaiolo pie, it was by far the closest approximation to authentic Italian pizza that I’ve eaten in Philadelphia.

Am not sure what I think about the communal seating or the design of the dining room, but the service was good and the host/manager – a friendly bald man with an inviting smile – provided something of intrigue to gaze upon. Looking forward to my next visit!

Photo grabbed from About.com

The fish that’s now on every menu: branzino. A simple sea bass, once abundant in Mediterranean waters, is now mostly farm raised (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

While at the restaurant tonight, the guys cooked up a filet that was too small to serve, and offered it to me. Grilled simply with some salt and pepper, drizzled with parsley and oil, this is the perfect summertime meal. Simple flavors, simple pleasures. Chef served it with cauliflower sauteed in butter, a side I have no idea why he continues to serve. It’s tasty and all, but not particularly interesting to sophisticated palates. I’d like the simplicity of the fish to arrive with something a bit more complex. I think the contrast would work well.

After Spin class tonight, I came home to a refrigerator whose only protein came in the form of tofu and parmigiano and no creativity to make it work. I needed the enjoyment from the food, not just its calories. Who could cook for me?

The Chef. He’s a captured audience. I could eat there solo and chat with Joey, Arturo, Elliot and Miguel.  Turned out Carlo was available too! Got a second impromptu dinner this week. Perfect.

For the past few weekends, I’ve been helping out at the restaurant on busy weekend nights, hostessing/bussing/serving. I adore the fast-paced environment there, watching the kitchen work its magic and chatting with the customers about their trips to Italy. Since I last ate there many months ago, the Chef has added some new specials which have intrigued me. One is pentolaccia, a mixed fish and seafood dish served in a brodetto (broth) with aromatici, pomodori and toasted bread. Buonissimo!

Can’t find much online about the origins of pentolaccia, but my guess is that it’s a fisherman’s ‘pot pie’ equivalent. In Italian, pentola = pot;  -accia is a suffix conveying a bit of ugliness. This dish, however, has nothing ugly about it.

Consistency is a tough order for big restaurants whose big name chefs rarely appear. Osteria tonight was really not all that good.  The grissini were still delicious, of course, as was the roasted vegetable appetizer, but nothing else I ordered was at all worth the calories. The rabbit was dry and tough, butchered poorly such that bones were in every bite except in the leg. Only the rosemary was reminiscent of the last time I ate rabbit there. The dessert, a thin slice of chocolate cake covering a cup of strawberry gelato, tasted old, as if the flour had gone rancid or it had sat in the freezer for far too long. Truly. I was most disappointed that my early birthday dinner with Gian Luca wasn’t as pleasing as the conversation.

To be fair to the kitchen, he was pleased with his squid ink pasta and cherry tiramisu. I like that they experiment with the classic recipes. I haven’t made a tiramisu in over a year….time to look for imported mascarpone.

I’ve been finding fabulous salads here in California. Could it be because I am travelling in the “salad bowl” of the US? Perhaps. This one was served at It’s Italia, an Italian place in Half Moon Bay at our hotel. It includes fava beans, peas and parmigiano, with a lemon olive oil dressing. Hello heaven.

According to its website, It’s Italia has been around since1997 “as a San Francisco style trattoria and pizzeria serving gourmet pizzas, house pastas, and creative salads, always with a California Italian flavor”.  As we eat our way up the coast, I’m beginning to understand that California Italian can mean just about anything. And that’s a good thing. I love that I’ve not seen anything traditonal on any of the menus.

Carlo’s appetizer tonight was a lovely dish of mussels and clams, served up in a bowl of tequila & cilantro lime sauce and ‘crunchy crostini crumbs’. While cilantro-lime-tequila combo can hardly be called Italian back on the East coast, it works.

We got excited that these appetizers might lead to something even more interesting, but the meal fizzled out. I ordered a roasted vegetable risotto with Italian sausage:

Looks good, but the rice had absolutely no texture or bite, and more gravely, the most pronounced flavor apart from the sausage was GARLIC. And, let me tell you, it was really strong. This dish got four thumbs down. Way down. What made me think I could order risotto in a casual seaside restaurant? Carlo’s shrimp and crabmeat pasta was just as garlicky. YUCK!

We finished the meal with a piece of key lime pie. While its mild citrus flavor failed to mask the bitter sting of our main courses, it did manage to bring a pleasurable ending to what was otherwise a most disappointing dinner.

At Osteria last night we learned that they don’t sell Pellegrino, but their own version of carbonated water, filtered in-house and served in reusable bottles branded with a Natura label.  While our server Paul revealed that it was indeed carbonated Philadelphia tap water, I wondered what the eco-branding was all about. The  Natura website reads:

Invented by Italians and engineered in America, Natura^® Water is the only water purification system of its kind that provides chilled sparkling and still water. The taste is guaranteed to please even the most discerning palate thanks to Natura^®’s patented three-step purification system that eliminates impurities while retaining healthy, thirst-quenching minerals.

…

Natura®’s unique approach to “gourmet water” was first developed in Italy, where water, like wine, is considered an essential part of every meal.

Italy has the world’s highest per capita consumption of premium water – twice as high as in the US. Italians pay exceptionally close attention to the characteristics and taste of their water, and even match it to their wine and food selections. 

Interesting messaging there: a case study in Italian hyperbole. Hadn’t ever thought about minerals quenching my thirst before, or to compare water to wine. While Italians I’ve known definitely do choose their bottled water with intent, even the most gourmand have never suggested keeping different types (brands) of water in-house to serve with different foods….

Seems “Italianizing” water is both trendy and profitable, especially in “upscale” markets. While some restaurants in LA and San Fransisco charge diners for the “Natura” water, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Osteria did not.

 Had dinner at Osteria tonight and was impressed once again at how well they execute the simple. The homemade grissini (breadsticks) were fabulous – crunchy yet not too dry, with a slight sprinkle of corn meal on their edges and just the right amount of salt. We promptly ate the three or four given to us with the homemade bread (also quite good), effused about how much we liked them and got even more excited when our server Paul brought us a whole glassful. Smart man. Wish all waitstaff were so responsive to small talk. 

Found in just about every bakery I ever visited while living near Torino, where grissini originated, these breadsticks come in all sizes, from super long and fat to pencil then. In casual restaurants all over Italy, they’re served in paper packages placed on the table as you arrive and wait for your food. 

I bet these are super easy to make, but in these moments of crunchtime at work, I’d like it much more if I could just stop by Osteria and buy a bunch. But then again, though excited to learn that Parc was selling its baguettes, I’ve actually never made the trip down to Rittenhouse to buy one.  

In any case, I think it’s really interesting that noted Philly restaurants take on the breadmaking themselves rather than rely on the established breadmakers (Metropolitan, Sarcone’s, Le Bus). Would love to see Vetri’s pastry chef open a retail panetteria — someone’s gotta bring a modern authentic Italian bakery to this red gravy town.  :-)

Did not at all expect to find Italian influence at Blackfish, a fabulous progressive American BYOB in Conshohocken, about a 30 minute drive out of the city. Though the carnaroli risotto with spring herbs and mascarpone failed to intrigue me, the parmesan panna cotta did. Its seduction continued the moment it arrived.  Look at it (sorry for the bad light). Wouldn’t you fall for its elegant design? 

Parmesan panna cotta

I really love that these “American” restaurants can’t resist ‘fusing’ Italian influence. Panna cotta is typically served as a simple ‘cooked cream’ dessert, but its savory variations have enjoyed a surge in popularity in recent years.  It’s ridiculously simple to make, with only four ingredients – heavy cream, sugar, vanilla and gelatin. Of the many variations on the theme I’ve eaten over the years, this one was particularly delicious! 

The rest of the meal we ate, while not Italian, ranked as one of the best I’ve enjoyed in recent months. See my review on Urbanspoon for details.