#46 Stella

Overview: Twelve pizzas, and not a bad one among ‘em. But that’s just part of the appeal of Stephen Starr’s corner pie joint; there’s also the thin, crispy crust, the smell of baking cheese, the chefs rolling dough in plain sight.

Recommendations: The tartufo pizza, with egg, truffle, fontina and parmesan.

http://www.starr-restaurant.com/stella/

David's Thoughts:

"Stupid flower show. Stupid FUCKING flower show..."

I hate the Philadelphia Flower Show. Hate it. Hateithateithateit. Why do tens of thousands of overweight, average looking suburban women need to converge each year to look at the same shit we have outside all year round??? And WHY, WHY, WHY do they all have to DRIVE THERE???? Its 3 blocks from the train station!!!!WHY DO THEY HAVE TO DRIVE THEIR CARS, GORGE OUR PARKING LOTS, AND WADDLE THEIR CELLULITE BEARING, THIGH RUBBING, STRETCH PANTS BURDENING ASSES ALL OVER MY CITY??? 

Caught in flower show traffic, it took me 45 minutes to drive from my office to Stella, which is only about a mile and a half away. This is not the ideal way to start a dinner date. But don't worry blog followers- it gets better from here! I crashed into my seat (Beth was, once again, wonderful enough to get us a table before I arrived) and ordered... what else... a Stella. There is something quite delightful about this, and I think that if I ever start my own restaurant, I'll probably name it after a tasty beer. Not to sound superstitious, but it just makes you feel like the gods want you to drink there. And who am I, mere mortal, to defy the gods?

We quickly settled on our dinner gameplan: a sampling of appetizers and two different pizzas. We started with the Grilled Octopus, an ingredient that both Beth and I enjoy. When it comes to octopus, flavor and texture are key. Stella's version was tender and caramelized: a tasty serving with tender potatoes and minty fennel. Shamefully, the portion was small- too small- which always makes me sad.

The Sheep Milk Ricotta, on the other hand, was absolutely stellar (get it... like stella... yeah these are my jokes). No, but seriously- this was an extraordinary spread. Smooth, creamy, and served with a tasty flatbread. I could complain that there isn't nearly enough bread on the platter (and yes, more will cost you extra), but the ricotta is so tasty you can eat it with a fork. This was a really special dish in my opinion, and I'll order it every time from now on.

After appetizers, we moved on to pizza. I'll say this: Stella does pizza properly. In fact, I don't think I've EVER had a pizza as mouth-watering tasty as their Tartufo. Literally, one bite stopped our whole conversation. Topped with egg and truffle, it is a decadent, salty delight.

In my opinion, an exceptional restaurant has to offer at least one menu item that is "special." It needs that dish that you'll order every time. Stella offers not one, but several of these dishes. Sure, some of our choices weren't extraordinary, but I would be come back in a heartbeat.

Beth's Thoughts:   I was shocked and amazed by one dish in particular.  This does not happen very often.

 

I have been to Stella for drinks in the past.  Their cocktail list, beer and wine selection is disturbingly underwhelming.  Based upon this, I judged the restaurant.  Boy, was I wrong.

The Grilled Octopus - yes.  I wish there were more.  But, having just ordered a similar octopus dish at another restaurant on the list - one in the lower numbers, to be named later - I was prepared to be disappointed.  Stella's octopus was excellent, but there was only one piece.  One piece of octopus does not a $12-dollar-dish make. 

Sheep's Milk Ricotta.  I could have purchased the cheese on my own on 9th St and enjoyed it at home.  I liked it, yes, but I wouldn't journey back for it.

Now the Tartufo Pizza.  Wow.  David said it stopped the conversation.  It literally STOPPED the conversation.  David took one bite of the pizza and stopped talking.  I, in turn, took a bite as well.  I had to see what had ended chatty David's rant so abruptly - and you all know David's rant capabilities.  Please refer to Flower Show rant above.  My only response to the pizza was, in typical Annie Savoy fashion, "Oh my..." 

This pizza may be one of my new addictions.  It was salty, soggy and crispy and cheesy and crusty and truffley all at the same time.  As a fan of eggs of the sunny-side-up nature, I also appreciated the egg drizzled over the top.  The waiter made quite a presentation.  David didn't get a voice in the matter: I took the leftovers home in a box and ate them for breakfast the next day.  Bread, eggs, cheese...those are breakfast foods!

As for the Special Pizza, it was fine, good, whatever.  It paled in comparison to the Tartufo Experience.

Next time, I would like to try a pizza with red sauce...

#47 Zavino

Overview:
Stylish and affordable, this gourmet-pizza newcomer is the perfect place for an in-between, impromptu meal.

Recommendations: The polpettini pizza, topped with tiny veal meatballs.

http://www.zavino.com/

Beth's thoughts:
I was early.  That is unusual for me.  So I did the logical thing: I sat at the bar and made some friends.

Before I arrived, I checked out the menu to plan my meal in advance.  The cocktail list online told me all about a drink called Clove and Oak, which contained Rye Whiskey, Clove Syrup, Cherry Heerings and Bitters.  That was right up my alley.  As soon as I got the bartender's attention, which wasn't difficult at all, I tried to order this drink.  He informed me that this is something they no longer serve and recommended the Winter "Fashioned" instead, so I ordered one.  It was, of course, too sweet, but very pretty.  Oh well.  Next time I'll order it with an additional sidecar shot of bourbon.  If there is a next time. 

When David arrived, we moved to a table and ordered the Tasting Board, which consisted of the Chef's selection of meats and cheeses.  It was very good and quite the presentation, but it was nothing that I had never seen before.  I see Zavino is keeping Claudio's in business - the menu is sure to let you know that the cheeses travel from Claudio's on 9th up to Center City for the privilege of your discerning palate. 

Next, we decided on two pizzas to split.  We chose Philly Mag's recommendation, the Polpettini Pizza with ricotta stuffed veal meatballs, Claudio's mozzarella, crushed tomato, basil and shaved provolone.  This pizza was tasty, but again, not something I would leave South Philly to order.　

Our second pizza choice was some sort of pistachio pesto white pizza topped with arugula.  

Lettuce pizza.

I have one word.  No.   

David's Thoughts: 

For me, 50 Food Dates isn't only about experiencing the restaurants I've never dared to know, it is also about re-visiting the ones I thought I knew. I've been to Zavino before (only once), and my previous experience there was less than satisfying. But, like I said, sometimes adventures are second chances, and I'm glad I gave Zavino another shot.

My first impression of Zavino was a happy-hour visit with colleagues, and it was decidedly negative. Frankly, I found the space cramped, the service "pushy", the food adequate but overpriced and the drinks underwhelming. After my return visit, some of these criticisms haven't changed. The space is still small, but Beth was smart enough to arrive early and request a table for us. Suggestion #1: Don't bring a group. Zavino's space is great for a cozy dinner and conversation with close friends, but awkward and cramped when you try to squeeze in a party (happy-hour style). 

Ironically, I ordered Beth's cocktail (a curious concoction of whiskey and mashed cranberries) during my initial visit, so I was wise enough to avoid a similar mistake. I settled on a draught beer- played it safe- which went really well with the meat/cheese plate. Suggestion #2: Zavino is not just a pizza place. Sure, they are known for their pies (more on this later), but I was most pleased with the rustic appetizer/cold beer combo. And frankly, who wouldn't enjoy that!

Next, we shifted gears into Pizza-mode. This was a letdown for me. The pizza at Zavino is tasty, but  neither spectacular nor original. And, lets be fair, if you make the Philly Top 50 for your pizza... it should be both. If I were heading out for pizza, I wouldn't choose Zavino over Stella (next on our list) and I'm pretty sure most people can find equally delicious pizza close to home (honorary shout-out to Mama Palma's: my local brick-oven pizzeria). 

While it wouldn't be my choice for dinner, I would definitely do drinks and apps at Zavino again. 50 Food Dates is teaching me that dining can (maybe should) be unusual and unexpected. Suggestion #3: Think outside of the box. Zavino is a fun destination, but it isn't going to satisfy your every need. If you're looking for a big pizza meal, you're going to be disappointed, but that doesn't mean that there aren't merits to their offerings. I would be happy returning to Zavino, even if dinner itself happened elsewhere.

#48 La Famiglia

Overview:
It’s the last of a dying breed. Old World elegance (pink marble, thick drapery), soigné service, and tasty – if not groundbreaking-Italian fare has kept the Sena family’s Old City stalwart chugging along for the past 30 years, while similar spots have come and gone.

Philly Mag's Recommendations: The tender calamari, homemade pastas.

http://www.lafamiglia.com/

David's Thoughts: 
It took awhile, but at #48 on our list, we finally visited a "fancy" restaurant on the Philly Top 50. No, there weren't waiters brushing the crumbs from our table, but La Famiglia certainly goes above and beyond to make their visitors feel welcome. Warm introduction? Check. May I take your coats? Check. 4 different waiters before we'd even ordered drinks? Excessive, but check. 



Beth and I started with a round of drinks: house white wine for me (with 13,000 bottles on the menu, going "house wine" felt a little lame... but whatever) and an unexpected variation on the Old Fashioned for Beth (I'll leave that description for her). We started things off with an appetizer from the daily menu: tuna carpaccio. Not a bad choice- I'm a tuna fan- but the texture left something to be desired. The pounded tuna had the "sinew-y" feel of deli-style roast beef. Perhaps that's overly-critical, but I had high hopes.

Decidedly overwhelmed by the course options, we elected to split two half-orders of pasta and follow up with a single entree. Both dishes were tasty, and (now on my 2nd glass of wine) things were looking up. But then again... what quality Italian restaurant doesn't offer good pasta dishes? Fair conclusion, right? At this point in the meal, I started taking note of the ambiance. Nice restaurant- solid bar, excellent service, and an AMAZING wine cellar in the basement (literally, the whole downstairs. They could hide corpses down there, nobody would know. NOT that I'm trying to make an "Its Italian they must be mobsters" parallel... not at all... not even a little...)

We ordered the Veal for our entree- at the recommendation of our waiter (yes, we did finally settle on a single waiter). Again, the dish was good- not "I'd induce vomiting just to eat this again right now" good... but solid. Tasty. We didn't finish it, because we were both full. Then again... when something is really really good, I rarely take it to go. Again, I'm just sayin'...

We finished the evening with a Limoncello (Beth insists on these things) and graciously thanked our hosts. Who were really quite nice. Very "by the book", but nice. And the meal was good. And we had a nice time. But honestly- would I go back again? Probably not. Would I take my girlfriend's parents if they were in town for one evening and I had to convince them that I was the guy they wanted to trust with their beloved daughter? No. I wouldn't. I would say "thats a really nice place. Really. Nice. But lets go somewhere else." And then I would take them somewhere memorable. Which, sadly, La Famiglia was not. At least not to me. But Beth might have a different idea...

Beth's thoughts: 

I live in South Philly.  My family is from Brooklyn.  I know my Italian.  In fact, it wasn't until I was in junior high school that I realized I was NOT Italian.  Talk about an identity crisis.

La Famiglia.  Not so much.

Now, let me qualify this.  The food was good.  But not great. 

This is partially based in the fact that, living where I do, I can throw a rock in the air and when it falls it will inevitably hit a family-owned, fresh-pasta-made-daily, one-of-a-kind, truly excellent Italian restaurant.  In fact, I guarantee that when we have successfully completed Philly Mag's 50 Best, David and I will compile a list of restaurants that we thought should have been included on this list but were omitted.

Was the decor nice?  Yes.  Very old-school.

La Famiglia means the family.  Did I feel like I was treated like family?  Did they attend to my every need?  Did they take the time to ask me exactly how I wanted my drink and with what kind of bourbon?  Yes, yes and yes, but the drink was still too sweet.  So much so that for my second drink I joined David in a glass of the house white, which yes, was a cop out considering their extensive wine list, but so it goes.

The Tuna Carpaccio was largely forgettable.  The pastas were good, but nothing special.  I do wish that we had started with the Veal so we had the opportunity to finish it before the pastas stuffed our bellies, but I was able to enjoy it again as a leftover.  It was quite a decadent leftover.

I hate to admit it, but I think my favorite part of the whole meal was the first item that made it to our table: the hard cheesy breadsticks.  Yum.  I feel bad that David only got one - maybe two - but wow.  Those were truly enjoyable. 

I make limoncello, so I generally order it at the end of a meal if it is available.  You know, to compare.  This limoncello was a worthy opponent.

If you're in Old City and looking for Italian, this is your place.  Am I going to cross Washington Avenue to eat here again?  Probably not. 

The service was excellent.  These days, that is worth a lot.