Out with the old French guard and in with Avance at the former Le Bec-Fin

FOIE FIRST: Whipped foie gras is paired with cardamom yogurt, black walnuts and pickled grapes at Avance.
Neal Santos

Hidden beneath the street, in the cozy embrace of the bar at Avance, someone suggests You Should Be Kissed and Often. 

It’s the name of a cocktail, not a come-on, and begins with a lovely bartender, a coupe glass and a jug of liquid nitro. As the first streamed the third into the second, fog rolled forth from the cup, down to the black walnut bar-top and across the exotic mise-en-place: Moroccan bitters, Herbsaint mist, shiso leaves stacked like purple valentines. 

“Do we have anymore Buddha’s hand?” a manager asked.

Hard to image that inquiry in previous years, when this underground den was part of Le Bec-Fin in its various stages of rebirth and decay. As part of Avance, the homecoming float of 33-year-old chef and owner Justin Bogle — Michelin star recipient, reformed New Yorker, Pride of Roxborough — it makes total sense to find Buddha’s hand in the bar pantry.

This is that kind of bar. Where liquid nitro is used not only to chill your glass but also to flash-freeze that shiso, which the bartender then smashed to minty smithereens and mixed with Bison Grass vodka and apple shrub. Voila: You Should Be Kissed and Often, a canary-colored cocktail as smooth and inviting (and potentially dangerous) as its name.

Whether or not you like your drinking with fog effects, you’ve got to commend Avance for committing. When relevance, as much as excellence, is the goal, it’s all about committing.

The last man to oversee this address, Nicolas Fanucci, learned that the hard way. His well-intentioned reboot of Le Bec kowtowed too much to the past — and to Georges Perrier, whose presence seemed tolerated through clenched teeth, like a cranky grandparent’s. The name stayed. The renovations could barely be called that. The old chandeliers sparkled. Their crystals chimed for death.

Bogle, who took over the space last summer, has extinguished the chandeliers — and with them, the old ghosts haunting this prime slice of Center City real estate. Sansom Street design firm, Pomegranate LLC, stripped the space of its opulent trappings and let an organic brand of luxury prevail. Instead of chandeliers, a constellation of dangling bulbs throws soft light through the spare, pewter dining room. Sleek glass panels have replaced wrought-iron railings on the staircase leading up to the shadowy mezzanine, and big new windows in the wine room treat Avance’s vast selection like something to be admired, not hidden like contraband. 

These are my favorite elements in the space, and I’m in love with the bar, the sanctuary-like foyer and the façade, a puzzle of wood planks and living greenery that sets the tone right from the street. But overall, the dining room feels a bit glum. A Zagat commenter compared Avance’s look to a “boring motel lobby or a dentist waiting room,” and that’s not totally off-base. The carpets and fabric banquettes look cheap. Vertical planters are gashes of green, but their foliage looks artificial and generic, not lush enough to break up the monotony of the gray walls. 

One upshot of the sedate setting is that it lets the food shine. And Bogle’s food is art, especially the parade of delightful amuse bouches that commence the tasting menus, $87 and $138 for five courses and chef’s choice, respectively. Electric pickled mussels rested in edible shells fashioned from deep-fried squid-ink pasta dough. A ceramic egg carton cradled four whole eggs, two hollowed and filled with crème fraiche, bacon tapioca and scrambled egg foam — a breakfast I wish I could eat every morning. Dots of chicken liver mousse and port gel beaded a potato chip puffed like chiccharón; the chip crunched satisfyingly then dissolved, leaving the sensations of fat and sweet to jostle and linger until the first course arrived. 

That course was more liver, foie this time, whipped and piped down the plate in a mauve ribbon against a bank of cardamom-yogurt snow. Bogle really understands texture, and his plates benefitted from an array of crumbles and crisps — black walnut in this case, the anchor for the airy foie decorated with pickled grapes. An artichoke-chip-and-sunflower-seed crunch underscored soft, smoky sunchokes cooked sous-vide in buttermilk whey. Carrots in an intense caramelized-squid broth wore crusts of puffed amaranth, nori and benne seeds. 

Bogle’s bag of tricks include the Anti-Griddle, Thermomix and iSi canisters, but his cooking is anchored in classic technique. He gave me the most delicate sweetbread, its creaminess more memorable than its elements of parsnip, cocoa and fermented pumpkin, and a shimmering block of pork neck that fell to pieces into a flow of Carolina Gold rice cleverly cooked like grits. A bar dividing a field of persimmon and turnip, the 12-day dry-aged duck breast was tender, crispy and supercharged with flavor.

Not every dish worked. The chawanmushi’s layer of egg custard was so insignificant, it just made me crave Serpico’s. The recent departure of promising pastry chef Tova du Plessis has Bogle doing sweets and not terribly well. Skip them in favor of the complimentary mignardises: dainty financiers, cassis marshmallows and macarons that taste like Butter Rum LifeSavers, a compliment. Or head back downstairs for after-dinner drinks: You Should Be Kissed and Often is but one of the fantastic cocktails by Bradford Lawrence.

The bar is also where you’ll find my favorite thing at Avance. Garnished with onion marmalade, harissa mayo and feta, the perfectly cooked Border Springs lamb burger arrives on a bronzed, sesame seed-speckled potato bun, part of the restaurant’s extraordinary bread program. It is the finest burger I have ever eaten. That it’s served at the old Le Bec makes me love it, and Avance, even more. 

Avance | 1523 Walnut St., 215-405-0700, avancerestaurant.com. Tue.-Sat., 5-10 p.m. Appetizers, $15-$23; entrees $25-$45; desserts, $12-$14.