Also this issue: Hot Plate: Add Salt To Taste -Jenn Carbin

May 22-28, 2003

food

Horse Raise

BEN THERE: New Dark Horse chef McNamara, formerly of New Wave Cafe, plates some salmon. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

New chef Ben McNamara expands Dark Horse’s horizons.

by Elisa Ludwig

I was eager to visit the Dark Horse when I learned that Ben McNamara, who did wonders for the New Wave Café, had recently taken hold of the kitchen. The pub formerly known as Dickens Inn opened more than a year ago with humble offerings like quesadillas and buffalo wings, but has since undergone a menu overhaul and a price hike. Undeterred, the same sort of dude-ish crowd continues to congregate in the pub’s many rooms to watch the kind of sporting events that are usually ignored by Philadelphians.

The upstairs dining room, with country-style wooden tables and chairs and warm yellow walls and prints of various dark horses, has a natural, relaxed feel to it. It's the sort of room you can sit in for a long time, and as it turned out we did just that, though not necessarily by choice. But more on that later.

In addition to the bar crowd, there is another holdover from the old Dickens days -- the doughy British section of the menu, with a selection of pasties and pies. But everything else about Dark Horse's menu will seem familiar to the New Wave regular: the signature risotto crab cakes, the North Carolina pulled pork sandwich and the vegetable napoleon, as well as a fierce list of specials that freely and ambitiously venture between national boundaries. Meal presentation is also unchanged, replete with what one friend called "tennis racket" potato chips tucked into the mash, sauce-splatter art and the customary stacking of proteins over starches. But the food, which at New Wave was a novelty, is here seeming a bit dated, and a bit expensive, especially when frat boys are in such close proximity. New Wave's entrees topped out at $20, for example; Dark Horse's go up to $24.

The best value for your meal is to order appetizers, which come in huge portions and are more than reasonably priced. We indulged our cocktail-hour cravings with the sage and garlic sausage rolls, which might also be described as glorified pigs in a blanket. The pastry was nicely crisp, its many papery layers giving way to the juicy herbed meat inside. Baked aged provolone, with embedded bits of scallion, sun-dried tomatoes and mushrooms, was another hit, though the accompanying "garlic crusties" were too crusty for their own good.

The Caesar salad (also an inheritance from New Wave) has, thankfully, shed the grilled chicken shackles that imprison salads nationwide and instead features cornmeal-crusted calamari, gaeta olives and a tomato concassé. It is an enjoyable update, the calamari proving terrifically tender and the olives adding tiny bursts of sharp flavor.

Of the entrees, beef Wellington was the most impressive. This non-traditional version eschewed the liver quotient and placed the puff pastry action underneath, here in the form of a leek and mushroom turnover. The fillet was seared to a blackened outer crisp, though its inside was pink and tender, and a bordelaise sauce matched its naturally rich flavor. The advertised potato rösti cake was missing -- in its place was the ball of mashed potatoes that came with all the other entrees. These were deliciously creamy potatoes, but a little plate-to-plate variation would have been welcome.

Five-peppercorn pork tenderloin was tender, and though I didn't take an inventory of each variety, it tasted pretty peppery. The balsamic glaze pooled on and around it was eerily similar to the cassis and rosemary glaze that coated the roasted duck. Both were able combinations of meat and sweet, though the duck, with its crispy skin and melting texture, made for a more compelling choice. The lobster-and-crab-stuffed chicken breast, on the other hand, was dry and bland and the combination did nothing for any of the respective ingredients.

Desserts, with their dramatic display of overabundance, were mostly consistent. A chocolate rum bread pudding made from brioche had an airy quality not usually endemic to the species, and its warm center approximated the ever-popular molten chocolate cake. A slice of key lime pie was a fine rendition of the classic recipe and left us all duly puckered but smiling. The only off notes here were the cinnamon crème caramel, which had a slightly curdled texture, and the less-than-piping-hot coffee.

Which brings me to the biggest disappointment in the Dark Horse experience, the service. Given the upward mobility of the food, you would expect the service to be a little bit more gracious and efficient, but we instead found it inept, even by casual pub standards. After a lag between courses we were told that a big party was waiting on desserts. But a second lag, when waiting for our dessert to be cleared, came with no explanation. We had to work hard to flag down our server, and the restaurant was far from crowded. In the end, our meal clocked in at over two and a half hours. While most of the food was enjoyable, we didn't need that much time to linger over it.

We did, however have a mystical moment, when we discovered an errant macaroni stranded on a companion's plate of chicken. He had in fact considered ordering the macaroni and cheese earlier, and decided against it. We wondered whether this was some sort of telepathic message from the kitchen, a sign, perhaps, to come back another day when things get a little more organized. I remain hopeful.

Dark Horse

421 S. Second St., 215-928-9307

Appetizers, $2-$10; entrees, $9-$24

Tue.-Sun., 11:30-2 a.m.; Mon., 3 p.m.-2 a.m.

Wheelchair accessible. Smoking is permitted in the bar areas. Reservations are recommended. All major credit cards.