Please note: This article is published as an archive copy from Philadelphia City Paper. My City Paper is not affiliated with Philadelphia City Paper. Philadelphia City Paper was an alternative weekly newspaper in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The last edition was published on October 8, 2015.
August 6–13, 1998
food
In And Out
The Garden retains its gentlemanly charm even when it's too hot to sit in the garden.
by Katherine Dahlsgaard
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In the springtime of 1974, Ms. Mulhern opened a small storefront named "Le Take-Out" in the building. Le Take-Out was a prepared-foods shop that sold refined homemade treats such as daily soups, chicken salad and chocolate cake to neighborhood denizens. Quickly, however, the first-floor main dining room was added, then the courtyard seating, and Le Take-Out became The Garden.
Today, the restaurant houses five separate dining rooms (including the Oyster Bar and rooms named the Swan and the Eagle), as well as two areas of outdoor seating—a deck off of the Small Bar, and the lovely garden courtyard, with its floral cloth-topped tables, yellow umbrellas, rose-drenched trellises, impatiens, azaleas and strings of tiny white lights.
Of course, Philadelphia being what it is (a sweltering hellhole), I was denied access to this most elegant and peaceful outdoor venue on my recent visit to The Garden. The temperature had zoomed that day to 98 degrees, and the famous courtyard was closed, much to my own and other diners' disappointment. How does the management make the decision to eighty-six outdoor seating for the evening? Does it depend solely on what the mercury reads, or is there a more complicated science to it?
"You get a general consensus," says general manager Cheryl Cotton (who, like Chef Major Perry, has been with The Garden for 20 years). "Either you walk out there and you just know, or people call [for reservations] and say, 'Please don't make us sit outside.'"
So my guests and I sat inside The Garden, which is nothing to sneeze at. The restaurant is a paragon of refinement and restraint; "so civilized!" was one friend's description, "way stuffy" was another's. The main dining room is of the radiant but unsmiling feminine sort, with linen tablecloths and napkins, wallpaper with a crowded floral design, individually lit fruit portraits. The decor matches the patrons, with their AmEx cards of gold, their blood and hair of blue. Obviously, it is a quiet restaurant, not the place to laugh too loudly or say the word 'f-k,' even when quoting someone else. This is probably not even the site for whimsical conversational slumming (David E. Kelly productions, caffeine-enhanced water, those 100 best novels), although the temptation in such a genteel atmosphere is great.
No, this is a restaurant to which you take clients or bosses, or anyone else you want to impress. The food, classic American with Continental influences, is as restrained as the decor, but a bit less flowery. Not manly, exactly, but gentlemanly, with particular emphasis on raw oysters, filet mignon and Maine lobsters. Other dishes are just as straightforward and conservative: smoked salmon, prosciutto on melon, veal chops, roasted rack of baby lamb. (Entree prices range from $16.95 for a roast chicken to $29.95 for a 16-oz. NY sirloin.) Certainly there are no culinary histrionics: no coulis, no ragout, no wasabi, ahi, mesclun or Maytag blue to alarm or intimidate. The most confusing word on the menu is "croute" (as in "littleneck clams in spicy tomato broth with garlic croute"—aka toast); the flashiest adjective is "zesty" (as in "sea scallops with zesty lemon-caper sauce").
Frequent restaurantgoers may find the food at The Garden boring, what with the dearth of usual ethnic influences or trendy flourishes found on most other menus. But what the food lacks in adventure, it makes up in quality of ingredients and proficiency of arrangement.
You know how when lobster is of such high quality, and cooked so flawlessly, that it's fluffy? Such was the case with the meat on the one-half lobster composed salad, which came with stunningly ripe pieces of melon, mango and avocado, as well as delicately herbed mayonnaise ($16.95). The beef carpaccio was so good it was silky, the succulence of the meat offset with particularly piquant capers ($9.95). Salads change daily; ours consisted of a smotheringly rich Roquefort cheese baked in the lightest and crispiest of phyllo, and served over a fresh bed of mixed greens, with toasted walnuts and a mustard vinaigrette ($9.95).
Entrees were equally accomplished. The thinly sliced pieces of baby calves' liver were flavorful and delicious, served in deglazed pan juices with roasted shallots and crispy pommes frites ($16.95). A roasted, free-range half-chicken was old-fashioned delectable, served with a simple gravy and a mound of garlic mashed potatoes ($19.95). Vegetarians be warned: There is not a single meat-free entree on the menu, but there are a number of vegetarian homemade pasta appetizers, such as handmade spinach gnocchi with gorgonzola dolci sauce, which may do the job.
Desserts were simple, but generally followed in the mode of appetizers and entrees: rich and vaguely old-school. It is rare to find chocolate mousse (particularly good chocolate mousse) on a menu these days, but you still can do so at The Garden ($4.95). Berries that were very fresh rested peacefully in a soak of Grand Marnier ($5.95), and profiterole puffs sandwiching an uncannily accurate crème brûlée ice cream were served with golden caramel sauce ($6.95).
As the restaurant has remained successful for almost a quarter century, I asked general manager Cotton what she thought the winning Garden philosophy was. Her answer? The "consistency and reliability" of the restaurant, she said.
"You always know what to expect."
The Garden, 1617 Spruce St., (215) 546-4455. Summer hours: Lunch served Tuesday-Friday, 11:30 a.m.-1:45 p.m.; dinner served Monday-Friday, 5:30-9:30 p.m. Saturday dinner will resume in September. Reservations accepted; credit cards (except Discover) accepted. Not wheelchair accessible.
