July 21-27, 2005
food
GO FISH: Bistro 7's salmon tartare, served on a pea pancake. Photo By: Michael T. Regan |
Bistro 7 may be small, but makes up for it with an ever-evolving menu.
The walls are as green as a fava bean it's summer at Bistro 7. This new little restaurant is another one joining in the Slow Food march, and it says so on the menu local, seasonal, sustainable the bywords of the movement that seems to have taken BYOBs by storm.
On this block of North Third Street, rife with boutiques and galleries, the blue front and pretty flower boxes will bring people in, and the ever-changing menu of Michael O'Halloran (late of Fork and the White Dog) should keep them coming back. The simple room with exposed ducts and an open kitchen at the rear, votives twinkling on the pretty stemware, reveals a good local provender. A terrine of roasted red and gold beets and braised fennel topped with buttermilk blue cheese, has lemon-y touches and makes converts of some beet-haters at the table. The in-house truffled foie gras mousse comes with a crust of Sauternes-poached strawberries, and brioche crumbs. The crumbs give an interesting crunch, but also seem to be a way to stretch the mousse. On my next visit it was not on the menu have the foie gras police already reached them? A wasabi-flavored tuna tartare (I'm tiring of that combination) is sparked by creamy avocado and dots of salmon caviar, and comes over sushi rice. Later, it is replaced by salmon tartare, blissfully natural, over a pea pancake. Both are tasty appetizers. A Vietnamese spring roll is filled with duck confit and gingered shiitakes and rice noodles, with more than enough basil and mint for flavor, and an apricot dipping sauce. Homemade potato gnocchi are quite acceptable with their decor of local asparagus, morels, chervil-porcini butter and grated pecorino Romano. One week we get Thai-seasoned sauteed squid that is so tender it almost floats off the plate.
The young staff is very solicitous: on one night when the restaurant is packed, and on one night when it is empty (understandably so, as it's July 5). We venture on with roasted wild salmon in a Portuguese-style stew very clever and flavorful with chorizo, peas, purple potatoes and a saffron aioli. Day boat scallops are delicious with spelt-quinoa, more sweet peas and the exotic touch of crisp guanciale (pork belly), but the five-spiced Peking duck breast trumps them with its sweet-and-sour raspberry glaze, jasmine rice and baby bok choy. It is also strangely wonderful with the Rosenblum zin that we are drinking.
I seldom order chicken in a restaurant, but their organic free-range version, with tomato, green olives and preserved lemons, reminds you of what chicken really tastes like. Over creamy Parmesan polenta, it is a treat, and, next time, when it comes with a honey glaze, it is equally good, and is accompanied by a dynamite phyllo-wrapped blintz oozing creamy cheese. The beef ribeye steak from Wolfe's Neck Farms, with a Burgundy shallot sauce, lacks the flavor and texture that aged beef usually has, but is redeemed by sour-cream-and-chive mashed potatoes that are such a classic combo. I can't fault rainbow trout however, when it is buttermilk batter-fried over black-eyed peas, accented with applewood-smoked bacon and a spicy remoulade, and frills of kale. O'Halloran's cooking uses seasonings from many different cultures, but he can be really down-home when he sets his mind to it. He even bakes his own bread.
Take his desserts, for example. There's rice pudding, but it is made from jasmine rice, flavored with coconut and sports a caramel sauce. Or good old real chocolate pudding, a pot de creme that advertises malt but needs more for that true malt-shop taste. The delicate buttermilk panna cotta with fresh berries is one of the only completely un-American dishes on the menu. We were too full to sample the international cheese plate. Maybe next time, when the menu has changed once again.
Bistro 77 N. Third St., 215-931-1560
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