November 6-12, 2003

food

Grenade Launch

ZEST IN SHOW: Melograno's roasted artichoke and charbroiled sea scallops with tangy vinaigrette. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Named for a fruit that inspired an explosive, Melograno busts out.

by Elisa Ludwig

The most exciting thing about living in Philadelphia over the past 10 years has been watching the transformation of Center City one building at a time. You could walk past the boarded-up old laundromat on your block for the hundredth time that week and suddenly notice that a zoning notice has popped up like an exotic bloom. There’s something magical about the discovery, like maybe you willed it to happen. But the truth is, there are humans behind all of this, savvy restaurateurs with visions of micro greens and artisanal cheese.

Most recently they have given us Melograno, a new dinner-only Tuscan BYO on 22nd and Spruce. Where once stood a crusty old grocery store is now a lovely, airy room with hardwood floors and the characteristically spare but stylish decor of Pottery Barn. The flames that sear grouper in the open kitchen cast an inviting, flickering glow on the green walls. Already there are lines out the door, as Melograno does not take reservations and the room only seats 28 people. Not to worry: There are thoughtfully provided benches outside on which you can plot your menu choices and stare enviously through the windows at seated diners.

For the most part, service is knowledgeable and friendly. On our visit, we witnessed a couple of awkward moments when our waiter described pappardelle as bow ties, and later, when I waved him down to belatedly order an espresso and he snapped, ìYour dessert is comingî before I got a word in. But these were small wrinkles, relatively speaking, and likely will be smoothed out as the restaurant settles in.

In Tuscan cooking, the idea is to keep it simple, letting each ingredient articulate its own flavor, rather than cooking them mercilessly. (Melograno's name translates as ìpomegranate,î the fruit that gave its old name, ìgrenade,î to the portable explosive.) While many of the restaurant's offerings are creative and therefore more complicated takes on classic Tuscan dishes (with some differences: The bread here has salt, and the desserts are not dense almond cakes), Melograno stays true to the character of the food.

The appetizers we sampled were beautifully presented, well-balanced marriages of fresh produce, seafood and cheese. We started with capesante alla griglia; the grilled sea scallops of the name ringed a whole de-barbed and roasted artichoke, and both were drizzled with a tangy lemon sauce.

Another appetizer, a roasted portobello mushroom, was richly flavored by truffle-balsamic vinaigrette, and accentuated by an accompanying round of warm pine nut-crusted goat cheese. Many a portobello goes rubbery in the service of imitating meat, but not this one, which was evenly cooked to a plump firmness. A salad of grilled calamari, shrimp and cannellini beans was served warm over a tangle of baby spinach leaves and tossed with a lemon and white wine dressing. A good olive oil goes a long way, and in this dish in particular, the quality made all the difference.

There are several fresh pasta dishes on the menu, but we chose the above-mentioned special, pappardelle con sugo alle olive -- thick, Tuscan-style ribbons of pasta, tossed with shrimp and scallops. The sauce had the warm flush of fresh tomatoes, heightened by the salty, nutty spike of green olives. It will remind you that red sauce doesn't have to be opaque or cause heartburn.

The rather autumnal pan-seared pork in a vodka cream sauce was marvelously tender, with small wedges of apple adding bursts of sweetness to each mouthful. This is always a winning combination and this dish is the blueprint for why it works.

In Tuscan cooking, game meats feature big. (Over in Italy, that pork might have been a wild boar.) Melograno makes its tribute with quaglie in agrodolce, pan-roasted quail stuffed with figs, prunes and toasted walnuts and finished with a reduced pomegranate sauce. The tiny bird, which is served on the bone and tastes like dark-meat chicken, is enhanced by the honeyed flavor and pleasantly gritty texture of the dried fruit. A side note: It's best to order this dish among friends, because you will need to pick up the little bones to eat it.

For dessert, Melograno serves the usual array of frozen Bindi sorbets and gelatos that you'd expect in an Italian restaurant, plus tiramisu and a creamy, orange-scented ricotta cheesecake. There are also a few non-Italian items, like the homemade warm chocolate soufflé, dusted with powdered sugar and presented with a drizzle of raspberry sauce and a tiny, perfect scoop of coconut gelato. It's as good as it sounds.

Melograno stands out among the recent crop of Italian BYOs for its quality and consistency. There's the feeling, at the completion of a meal, that a lot of thought has gone into its making. Above all, Melograno is living proof that a derelict pharmacy, dollar store or go-go bar can wake up one day, Samsa-style, as a well-conceived restaurant. Sort of makes you look at the vacated corner store a little differently, now doesn't it?

Melograno

2201 Spruce St., 215-875-8116

Appetizers, $6-$12; entrees, $14-$25

Tue.-Thu., 5-10 p.m; Fri.-Sat., 5-10:30 p.m.; Sun., 5-9:30 p.m.

Wheelchair accessible. Smoking is not permitted. Reservations are not accepted. All major credit cards.