March 17-23, 2005

food

Bianca Slate

FAN OF LA PLANCHA: Dominique Filoni proves his loyalty to the pan with his plancha-seared foie gras with pear compote. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Finally, a Filoni production with less frou-frou.

by Maxine Keyser

"And let it not displease thee, good Bianca, For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl." There's not much to displease in this handsome new restaurant, which Dominique Filoni named not for the straightlaced Taming of the Shrew character but his own daughter. Filoni, of Savona fame, and his wife, Sabine, have taken the old space of Toscana and fashioned a comfortable, warm room done in a marvelous shade of burgundy, with touches like high little curtained windows and dark wood accents to match the dining chairs covered in ostrich feathers. Billowing iridescent curtains only partially hide the kitchen from which all blessings flow, and black-clad servers scurry back and forth. The neighborhood has taken to this restaurant already, knowing Filoni's cooking, and on any given night you will see well-dressed couples, plenty of the designer-jean set and a baseball cap or two. Bianca somehow gives off homey vibes, even if it feels that "home" must be St. Tropez, as was Filoni's. However, expect a form of global cuisine that is not necessarily French but bows to Italy, Spain and Asia as well.

The wine list is interesting but not cheap. We order a sauvignon blanc from California, unknown to us, that has the flavor of damp grass. When we mention this to the sommelier, he whisks the offensive bottle away, and we get the French white Burgundy from Faiveley we should have ordered in the first place. I was impressed by the lack of fuss or outrage here that this kind of thing might engender elsewhere.

Bread arrives with a four-sectioned dish containing butter, hummus, tapenade, and pistou — a thoughtful change from plain old olive oil.

You must order the yellowfin tuna carpaccio. It is not transparently thin but cut in meaty, rosy slices, sprinkled with shaved fennel, and ringed with a whole-grain mustard vinaigrette. A simple salad of cremini mushrooms, shaved artichokes and parmigiano reggiano glistening in a lemon vinaigrette captures Italian flavors perfectly. Duck confit with artichokes barigoule (in a brown stew) and mache tastes exactly of France. Pale khaki sunchoke soup, its slight sweetness made earthy from drizzles of porcini oil, tastes like nowhere you can identify, but it's very good. Rare and unctuous foie gras, seared in a plancha (a heavy iron pan), pairs well with a pear compote tinged with saffron. The exotic mushroom soup is frothed, cappuccino-style, and is a delicious surprise.

By entree time, the hum of the restaurant has risen astonishingly. The ceiling is relatively low here, and it only takes one table, usually the one next to yours, to set the noise level. Plancha-seared striped bass consoles us with comforting mashed fingerlings, and Filoni's anise-flavored bouillabaisse sauce floats manila clams and mussels in its russet depths. Fish is his strong point, as it was at Savona, only the prices are gentler here. Fennel-crusted New Brunswick salmon pits licorice against a blood orange reduction and the slightly bitter touch of braised endive for a layered, innovative dish. Grilled yellowfin tuna, perfectly rare, sports a sesame soy sauce (there's that Asian touch) and carrots scented with ginger, though it's hardly original. A half-lobster, sans shell, comes seared a la plancha also, and it is absolutely succulent, reclining on a pine-nut risotto and moistened with an intense lobster emulsion. But I'm puzzled by a dozen sides listed on the menu. Why pay seven dollars for mashed potatoes when they come with the striped bass anyway?

Desserts are not the most exciting part of the meal, but they are homey in their way. You can have a creamy bourbon bread pudding with rum raisin ice cream and caramel sauce, or triple creme brulee, or a lovely apple tart that has the caramel, buttery taste of a tarte tatin. There are even s'mores and a perfectly respectable cheese tray that includes Humboldt Fog, my new passion. The homemade ice creams and sorbets did fine by me — I loved both the espresso and the fig ice cream, and mango sorbet does not disappoint.

There are many reasons to like Bianca, especially on a wintry night when you can be enfolded in its rosy arms and enjoy Dominique Filoni's inspired cooking. It's a comforting experience, a basically French restaurant that is not afraid to offer macaroni and cheese and let you wear jeans.

Bianca 24 N. Merion Ave., Bryn Mawr 610-519-0999

• Sun.- Thu., 5:30 to 10 p.m. ; Fri-Sat., 5:30 to 11 p.m.
• Appetizers, $8-$14; entrees, $19-$28
• Wheelchair accessible.
• Smoking permitted on patio only.
• Reservations recommended.
• All major credit cards.