July 1- 7, 2004

food

Girl Wonder

HEARTS ENTWINED: Salmon filet with palm hearts and asparagus spears, created by Marcie B. Turney Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Lolita's unusual setting and laidback charm attracts admirers.

by Elisa Ludwig

In the hyperaccelerated world of food hype, new restaurants are routinely mythologized, added to the local BYO canon, then discarded by the first generation of diners moving on to the next big meal — and that's all within the first six months of opening. Lolita has the right elements for this kind of story: modernized, original but studied cuisine, an executive chef-owner with an excellent curriculum vitae (Marcie B. Turney has worked at Audrey Claire, Twenty Manning and Valanni), plus the underdog advantage of being across the street from Stephen Starr's glittery El Vez. It's the kind of place most of us want to love before we even visit. The lure of bring-your-own-tequila margaritas (classic and watermelon-wild mint on a recent visit) and artisanally farmed ingredients is simply too much to resist.

The interior of Lolita is attractive but not aggressively so, with red, tiled walls and exposed brick. The open kitchen seems strangely serene, considering the amount of pepita roasting and corn shucking that must go on in there. The room can be noisy, which may be a turnoff for people who find their senses easily overwhelmed. Apparently, the restaurant has been so crowded that someone managed to steal the tilde off the ba–o sign. There are sidewalk tables, too, but frankly, this stretch of 13th Street is still scenically challenged. The young people with shiny new scooters hanging around Capogiro don't change the simple fact that you're staring at a Dumpster.

Lolita's wait staff is informed, personal and cute enough to give the blond model types across the street a run for their tip money. Our server was quick with recommendations, and when a friend asked which entree she might choose, she gave us a refreshingly no-nonsense answer, instead of the usual line that everything on the menu was equally delicious. The only lapse in service came with the second course, which was slow (at least a half-hour) coming out of the kitchen.

Starting with the complimentary tomatillo salsa and homemade chips, the flavors were just right. An order of fresh guacamole was deliciously buttery and came with a basket of sweet potato, taro, plantain and corn chips, leading to an obligatory round of Name That Root Vegetable.

The appetizers came out in a staggered order that allowed us to devote our full attention to each one. Next came the roasted beet and plantain salad, which paired the sweet, dense vegetables with warm goat cheese, roasted pepitas, crisp slivers of jicama and a piquant serrano-lime vinaigrette. The rustic tamale stuffed with black beans, earthy mushrooms, roasted chicken and manchego cheese was a neat little bundle of goodness.

But even after all these treats, the real stunner was the pan-seared duck breast, unbelievably tender slices of meat offered up in a shallow bowl of guajilio chili broth, with pearls of posole (big kernels of hominy) and shreds of pickled cabbage. The combination, which admittedly may not sound very appetizing, was extremely rewarding.

After the long wait, the entrees were a slight letdown, lacking the precision and punch of the uniformly wonderful appetizers. Almost all of the entrees could have used a dash of salt but, curiously, there were no shakers available on the table. Filet of salmon, wrapped and steamed in cornhusks and avocado leaves, had a delicate, light flavor that may have been the menu's best example of the "contemporary" part of contemporary Mexican. The fish was nicely accented by a velvety hearts-of-palm puree and smoky spears of grilled asparagus.

The highly recommended carne asada was actually pretty disappointing. The grilled beef was cooked nicely, but seasoned far too lightly to have much impact. While the caramelized onions and poblano rajas gave it a needed boost, the drunken pinto beans were, ahem, a little too sauced.

The similarly alcoholic drunken pork chop was juicy and tender, but, like the carne asada, lacked flavor. The plate was rounded out with more plantains — this time shredded and deep-fried — refried beans and "street corn," which provided a dose of table humor ("Does it have a mean attitude?").

Desserts promptly restored our experience to its pre-entree glory. A fresh coconut tart with an almond crust had a mild and sophisticated suggestion of sweetness. Chocolate flan spiked with Kahlúa was an egg custard that even a flan-adverse diner could enjoy. Pecan cheesecake, impossibly light and fluffy, was held earthbound by a dense chocolate-ancho crust.

It was hard not to come away happy. Big restaurants have their own appeal, but they rarely feel personal. In the end, the pleasure of eating in a 50-seater where the food is both conceptually interesting and intricately crafted is why places like Lolita get all the buzz. Even if the entrees are slightly bland, you leave with the impression that your meal has been special, that a real person took the time to choose its contents and challenge your expectations. For that, Lolita earns the hype, and will continue to attract appreciative and possibly klepto customers with its undeniable charms.

Lolita — 106 S. 13th St. 215-546-7100
Appetizers, $7-$9; entrees, $16-$21
Sun., 5-10 p.m.; Mon.-Thu., 5-10:30 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 5-11 p.m.
Wheelchair accessible. Smoking not permitted. BYO. Reservations accepted for Sun.-Thu. Cash only.