A new chef and a new menu bring big flavors to a.Kitchen

COAST TO COAST: East coast squid stuffed with Arborio rice and Calabrese salami.
Neal Santos

The slick Rittenhouse restaurant, A.Kitchen, which local restaurateur David Fields opened with the AKA Hotel in 2011, could fill a library with all its stories: the Bryan Sikora chapter, the Val Stryjewski chapter and now, the Ellen Yin and Eli Kulp chapter.

Back in July, the dynamic duo behind Fork and High Street partnered with Fields and AKA to reinvigorate A.Kitchen. With its cove-like ceilings, clean lines, wood and marble surfaces cultivating the vibe of a spa in the Scandinavian hinterlands, the restaurant has always had a pretty face — “the sexiest in town,” Yin says — but it hasn’t always had a clear identity. All that’s changed. Shutdown was March 10; reopening was March 17. One week on the ground and presto! A relevant restaurant.

Don’t get me wrong — it’s still scene-y. At the bar, a tool with a hunter-green blazer and a heavy watch romanced a pair of blondes with all the subtly of Andrew Dice Clay. Laid end to end, all the Indian hair extensions could have stretched from here to Mumbai.

But it’s not just scene-y. Two rouged and sequined 40-somethings wedged into the bar, studied the menus and promptly left. At the new A.Kitchen, ’nduja-stuffed squid and pea-puree cocktails dash the Bellini-and-gnocchi expectations. 

This is not to say the food is so esoteric it’s unapproachable. Kulp’s goal in developing the menu: “fit somewhere in the middle of Fork and High Street,” with a focus on hardwood charcoal grilling. Whether it’s the soft-boiled quail eggs dyed magenta with beet juice, a so-so pick from the snack section, or bone-in skate ‘deviled’ with a fiery blend of chiles, almost everything here directly or indirectly touches the grill. In the open kitchen, the ash-white lumps glowing beneath the crank-operated grill hail from western Pennsylvania.

It’s one of the many sub-stories living within this restaurant, one whose main story might be Yin’s sudden, rapid expansion. After holding steady with one establishment and its adjacent café for 15 years, she formed a hospitality group with Kulp as a partner and opened two restaurants within six months of one another. This wasn’t the plan, more a product of chronological coincidence and a situation too good to pass up. She appears to be riding the slow then sudden Vetri expansion track nonetheless. I wouldn’t be surprised if another project arises before the end of the year. 

Or is the main story Kulp? He’s been a catalyst for these moves, sure, but more important, his actions speak to a chef whose putting down real roots and investment. 

No, I think the real story here is Jon Nodler. 

Two years ago, Nodler moved to Philly with his wife, pastry chef Sam Kincaid, from Madison, Wisc. He cooked at Will, connected with Kulp after eating at Fork and joined the team with Kincaid. “I was fortunate to get both of them,” says Kulp, who put Nodler in the instrumental role of developing recipes for High Street. He’s reprising his role at A.Kitchen, with added autonomy as the chef de cuisine. “We knew his vision would be a big part of it.”

Whereas early High Street menus could read like fermented streams of consciousness, what Nodler is doing at A.Kitchen feels very confident, very focused. This guy is a star, and you only need one bite of that smoky, grilled stuffed squid to realize it. Filled with a mix of Arborio rice and the fiery Calabrese salami, it was an arancino in aquatic disguise with hi-def green cilantro sauce.

The menu is full of small plates with big flavors. Smoke and citrus were a dream team in a little lemon puree-beaded bowl of smoked mussels marinated in mustard and chili oils and charred-grapefruit juice. Vasca peppers are pickled and fried for a tangy, salty, crispy, spicy snack that should grace every bar on earth — preferably alongside cocktails made with the coal-caramelized scallops’ kimchi-celery consommé and wild knotweed, verjus-and-Champagne vinegar syrup. More rhubarb mingled with mint, Thai basil, fennel, ramps, fiddleheads and eucalyptus in an ode to spring played out in a bowl of house-made buckwheat noodles. Eucalyptus — there’s an interesting ingredient you don’t see very often. More please, Jon.  

Bearnaise sauce and gherkin vinaigrette made powerful allies for beef tartare cut from a tri-tip seared directly on the blazing coals. Nodler managed to make the robust, beefy flavor of the meat shine in a dish full of big personalities. I scooped some up with a thick potato chip and silently unseated Vernick’s tartare as my favorite in town. The seared Wagyu chuck flap, more of an entrée-size plate with French onion soup elements, was only half as satisfying. 

Sam Kincaid’s desserts definitely did not disappoint. She dips a little more into the sugar jar here, letting the savory undertones (think tangy goat’s milk in the lush cajeta custard dusted with streusel and candied violets) play out against beloved templates. 

She and her husband are an ascendant duo. Many like them leave restaurants to open their own places. But many don’t have Kulp and Yin behind them, bosses that are invested in their success and empower them to excel. Like I said, the Vetri track. Another story for another day.

A.KITCHEN | 135 S. 18th St., 215-825-7030, akitchenandbar.com. Hours: Dinner Sun.-Thurs. 5-10 p.m., Fri.-Sat. 5-11 p.m. Lunch Mon.-Fri. 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Brunch Sat.-Sun. 10:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Breakfast Mon.-Fri. 7-10 a.m. Starters, $6-$15; mains $25-$93.