World of Mouth

Sonam crafts some tasty international small plates — but not enough to kill the entrée.

by Elisa Ludwig

Michael T. Regan BIG TUNA: Sonam's lively hamachi nachos, fresh flour tortilla chips draped with yellowtail. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

In a recent New York Times article, chefs debated the future of the entrée. With so many places opting for many different, smaller-portioned flavors in a meal, some argued that big plates now seem boring. Here in Philly, the new restaurant Sonam speaks to this polyamorous approach to dining.

Sonam has set up shop in the sub-street-level space where the short-lived Table, and before that, Next, were housed. Sueded banquettes with embroidered pillows line either side of the room, while brown lacquered tables fill the center. It's all warm, Asian-inspired and minimal (think West Elm), from the voluptuously shaped water glasses to the bowls of polished stones on each table. There are beautiful chopsticks at each setting, too, but they turn out to be more decorative than actually functional for your meal.

Or should I say meals? "Global dim sum" is the concept, and it's a tricky one. Restaurants serving small plates, tapas and variations thereof tend to cater to the drinking patron who will sit for an extended period of time, but this being a BYO with a mellow atmosphere, the booze is finite and the experience is far less partylike, making the recommended three plates to a person a much harder sell.

Then, of course, there's the global part — or straight-up confusion to the palate, which must register the competing flavors of prosciutto, huitlacoche and lemon grass in a single sitting. Finally, there's the quirky-sounding concoctions that, at least in the retelling, require the use of quotation marks — and sound more like chemistry than comfort.

We took the recommended three-plates number to heart and were overwhelmed by the rapid-fire succession of white geometric tableware. But it must be said that the service, which can make or break any meal (this is perhaps even truer of a small-plate feast), is quite good here. Our server deftly managed dishes and recited each one's ingredients in a thoughtful but unpretentious manner.

A few were so tasty that they merited a larger portion, like a special of ruby slices of tuna served over tempura-encased white asparagus spears. The wild boar tartare, little translucent bits of meat glistening with blood orange vinaigrette, blended decadently with dabs of crème fraîche on truffle-scented wonton chips. In the hamachi nachos, cool slices of yellowtail on crisp flour tortilla chips were further enlivened by avocado purée, microgreens and a delicate drizzle of pico de gallo oil.

One of the most simple dishes, cubed steak yakitori dusted with sesame seeds and served over gingery cucumber "noodles," was one of the most successful. And the seafood sliders — a trio of individual sandwiches that includes buttery, grilled lobster; seafood mousse with cocktail aioli; and a crabcake slathered with an intriguing pomegranate chutney — were the most appealing bar snack I ever ate outside of a bar.

We also enjoyed Sonam's playful incarnation of the cheesesteak: a terrine layered with beef "mousse" and sautéed onion and mushroom, capped with flaky pastry. But the best part was its condiments: a smear of creamy provolone "wiz," a dollop of tomato molasses and a knob of hot pepper duxelle with a pleasingly spicy bite.

I had a different response to another remake of a South Philly classic, the golden triumvirate of roast pork, broccoli rabe and provolone. This combo, perfect on a chewy roll, lost its rustic appeal when wrapped in deep-fried dough and cut on the bias. At this point, I think it's safe to say that the eggrollification trend in upscale restaurants may now be more passé than the entrée.

Similarly, I wondered if the tempura-battered lamb chops in the Chops and Chips dish wasn't a bit of overkill. True, fried coatings improve upon many ingredients, but lamb is one that tends to stand on its own. (The side of snappy sweet potato fries, however, was excellent.)

Other dishes, though interesting in theory, just didn't coalesce on the plate. In that category were the taffy-dense buffalo-sauced falafel and goat cheese and fig "S'mores." The goat cheese marshmallow was actually brilliantly executed, but the supermarket crackers sandwiching it cheapened the whole effect.

Some items, frankly, were inedible. The craziest part of the Crazy Noodles was the wasteful use of premium ingredients, with overcooked nubs of foie gras, truffle oil and globs of caviar drowning in a sea of vermicelli that had the so-salty-it's-painful flavor of packaged ramen.

Seared tuna "sandwiches" were bland, the jerked rice patty base gummy. And the risotto tamale's filling had a soapy aroma to it, the promised squash and eggplant imperceptible amid its sticky mass of mascarpone rice.

For dessert, we were really excited about the prospect of the chocolate gelato with chicharonnes, which sounded like a frozen version of the Vosges chocolate and bacon bar. But the deeply chocolatey gelato was not integrated with the packing-peanut-textured pork rinds, making them more of a nuisance than a counterpoint. Whimsy is great, so long as it's backed up by deliciousness.

Sonam has a lot of potential, and it would be nice to see the kitchen take it down a few notches and focus on simpler, more satisfying small plates. If the entrée is indeed endangered, we're going to need more of them.

(e_ludwig@citypaper.net)

Sonam

223 South St., 215-922-3092, sonambyob.com

Hours: Sun.-Thu., 5-10 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 5-11 p.m.; closed Mon.-Tue.

Small plates, $6-$13

BYOB.