December 13–20, 2001

food|holiday dining guide

Upon Further Review

Chef shuffling yields surprising results at four area restaurants.

by Maxine Keyser

Magnum Opus: Pan-seared foie gras, sea scallop with roasted lady apple and port reduction from Opus 251. photo: Christina M. Felice

Henri Soulé ran the famed Pavillion in New York from its opening in the ’30s until its closing in the late ’60s. Andre Soltner was in the kitchen at Lutèce for some 35 years before retiring and still remains a presence there. Georges Perrier has certainly devoted the same amount of time to Le Bec-Fin and his other ventures. These are the constant chefs, whose lives are inextricably bound to their beloved restaurants.

But there is a new breed of chef, engaged in a slow ballet that almost resembles musical chairs. They are restless and energetic, and impatient as well, so they leave one restaurant for another. Three restaurants that I reviewed in the past year have gone through such a change, and another that is well known but was not reviewed by me has done the same. So I set out to find how the new regime has affected each of these places.

At Opus 251 (251 S. 18th St., 215-735-6787), the muted decor still shows off the building’s classic bones. But Stuart Pellegrino has decamped and Anthony Bonett is newly installed in the kitchen.

I note immediately that he has simplified the menu, and it is completely seasonal. A sliver of duck breast on an apple slice as an amuse-bouche kicks off the meal with a bottle of Chilean Sauvignon Blanc ($38), and then we move on to tastes of various salads — smoky roasted eggplant with buffalo mozzarella, artichoke hearts and caper berries ($9) is a good example of textures and flavors combining in unexpected ways. The creamy mozzarella, the crunchy, nutty flavor of the artichokes and the salty sour caper berries are all smoothed out by the suave eggplant. There’s mozzarella also with a grilled pear and prosciutto from San Daniele, and a sweet pumpkin vinaigrette ($13) that is safe, sweet and not as reckless as the eggplant dish.

Heavier entrees demand a fruity, red wine, a Pinot Noir from the Carneros region ($38). There are excellent veal tenderloins, done perfectly, with artichokes, cipollini onions and salsify in a woodsy ragoût ($29). Rare, pan-seared tuna seems an unlikely combination with braised pork, but it works into a meaty take on a choucroute with the addition of red cabbage and sweet potato ($28).

A cheese plate ($10) follows, featuring a chèvre, a slice of ash-veined Morbier, and a bulging, creamy, divinely smelly Epoisses. Pastry chef Amelia Dietrich continues to make the signature "Chocolate Lantern" ($8), a combination of chocolate mousse cake and a frozen parfait, for dessert, but she does other tarts, puddings and ice creams as well. Under Bonett, Opus 251 has become a truly American restaurant — an impressive showcase for local products and preparations. But it remains a serene and civilized dining room where you can have an intelligent conversation, concerned service, and some very good food.

A visit to Novelty (15 S. Third St., 215-627-7885), Bruce Cooper’s urban experiment, was not always a pleasure. There were complaints about the service, the portion sizes and a general "preciousness" in the menu that did not go with the laid-back scene they were trying to project. So in comes Kevin O’Kane, fresh from his stint at The Happy Rooster, and pastry chef Matt Malowski.

The long list of appetizers is straightforward and includes lots of salads, like poached pear with prosciutto and mascarpone ($8), steamed veal dumplings ($9) and the Novelty Box ($22), the most popular selection. We have one, with a glass of Trimbach Pinot Blanc ($8.50) from the comprehensive and reasonable list. Our box, lacquered like a Japanese bento box, contains crisp shrimp, peas and pearl onions in a lobster broth, barbecued tuna rolls in rice paper with pickled bamboo (which does not thrill me), scallops, barely gelled, over wilted spinach and strongly smoked house salmon with apples, fennel and pearl onions. Our only complaint is the plethora of pearl onions, but by and large, the box is a success. Still, it can’t compare to the seared foie gras ($18) with spiced apples and pistachio-raisin bread. The spices give a lift to the cliche-ridden foie gras, meltingly tender as it is.

I like the selection of lighter entrees, particularly for those who want the smaller portions, and I choose from there. The paillard of veal ($19) served over a risotto of delicata squash, sports crispy fried sweetbreads and prosciutto as a garnish. Ordinarily a dull dish, this paillard shines with flavor, and all the combinations work together. My companion prefers stronger stuff, a regular entree, from the list that features the popular crab cake, steak and osso bucco. Pumpkin-seed-crusted tuna ($26.50) is accompanied by a delicious ginger-y squash chutney.

Maslowski’s desserts reflect the same homey feeling with lots of warm fruit preparations, candied chestnuts and a duet of pumpkin — a pumpkin pie tart and super pumpkin ice cream ($7) that is smooth and not overly spiced. In fact, all his sorbets and ice cream are first-rate. As for the service, since my first visit there I have enjoyed the ministrations of Calvin Rone, a wonderful waiter with staying power. Novelty may seem old hat to some by now, but a meal there is, more than ever, a thrill for me.

I haven’t reviewed Taquet in Wayne is for some time, but have enjoyed many of Jean-Francois Taquet’s opulent French dishes for years. We had heard for a while that Taquet was looking to broaden his horizons and had dreams of doing his own organic farming and developing a luxury inn besides. He has now found the fruition of his dreams — a 23,000-acre ranch at Glencoe Station, New Zealand. So Taquet in Wayne now in the capable hands of Larbi Dahrouch, who came here in 1979 with Taquet to work under the wing of the late, great Jean-Louis Palladin at the Watergate Hotel in Washington, D.C.

Dahrouch has lightened up the menu, adding the scent of his native Morocco to some of the classic dishes. A warm beet salad with salmon rillettes and micro-greens, is touched with cumin ($8), a smooth, creamy soup of hubbard squash is flecked with prosciutto ($8), and glasses of an austere Chardonnay ($9) from the Franche Comté go perfectly with these dishes. A glass of Clos Julien, a rich Chardonnay from California’s central coast ($12), accompanies the seared scallop with a salad of chervil, tarragon and baby arugula. The crisp, herbal salad juxtaposed against the puddinglike scallop was fine, and the buttery wine picked up the scallop’s richness.

Entrees also showed simplicity and pride of product. Filet of the best beef ($36) was napped with a flavorful, classic bordelaise sauce and finished off with a dusky mushroom ragoût and heavenly mashed potatoes. Pristine Alaskan halibut ($26) reclined on pearl pasta, with a metallic jolt of saffron. Both dishes were complemented by a glass of Anjou Rouge ($11), a light wine from the Loire.

Desserts followed the same pattern of traditional with an extra touch. Chunks of roasted pineapple were as sweet as the honey-vanilla ice cream that came on the side ($8), and the hot chocolate cake ($9) was one of the better ones I’ve had — totally molten and very rich, also with vanilla ice cream.

When Francesco Martorella split his partnership with Georges Perrier in Brasserie Perrier, his intent was to open his own place. That didn’t work out, but he seems to have found a home for his prodigious talent at Avenue B (260 S. Broad St., 215-790-0705). Francesco has Italianized the menu, simplified many preparations and brought a warmth to this chic, hard-edged restaurant. After an amuse-bouche of a scallop topped with eggplant relish and a glass of light sparkling Prosecco ($6), we moved on to a timbale of roasted peppers and mozzarella wrapped with a slice of San Daniele prosciutto ($12), a familiar appetizer dressed up with the best of ingredients — fresh mozzarella, house-done peppers and the finest of hams. Mussels, too, were at their sprightliest ($11), tender little guys touched with a sauce of fennel and tomato.

We tried two pastas that were both a triumph. Hand-cut pappardelle alla Bolognese ($14) could have been in the best trattoria in Bologna. The pasta was al dente, only lightly tossed with the sauce made with chopped meat, and aromatic vegetables simmered in milk, and dusted with cheese. I liked, too, that the sauce on the feathery potato gnocchi ($14) was completely different — a light sauce of sun-dried tomatoes and mozzarella cheese. We followed with a veal chop ($35) cut off the bone and bedded on a mix of fregola (a small pasta) and wild mushrooms that was as succulent as the peppered venison ($38); the peppery flavor softened by a sweet potato puree and the unexpected sweet burst of a ravioli filled with chestnuts.

When faced with the works of Joseph Furgiuele, who came from Pod with Martorella, we magically regained our appetites. There was a warm apple crisp with a pecan streusel and vanilla gelato ($9), and Furgiuele’s version of tiramisu ($9), which was a perfect rendition of this tiresome dessert, with plenty of espresso and chocolate and mascarpone cream. Then, a frozen hazelnut mousse ($9), a semifreddo that never quite freezes, topped with a milk chocolate praline ganache, and a ricotta tart ($10), a sweet little tart accompanied by anisette-macerated fresh berries and apricot sauce. The piece de resistance to me was the chocolate bombe ($10) — a bittersweet mousse with a liquid chocolate center perched on a shortbread of chocolate and fleur de sel (French deluxe sea salt). Furgiuele’s desserts are among the most original and artistic around.

Once you get past the prices, you will appreciate every sophisticated detail of Avenue B, from the attentive staff, to the fine Italian wine list, to Martorella’s food — restrained, more rustic, with a grasp of authenticity and respect for the seasons.