Gimme Fiction

A faux-Paris feel isn't all that Parc has to offer.

by Trey Popp

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Published: Sep 10, 2008

Shirley Nicole Fonner A (RITTENHOUSE) SQUARE MEAL: Skate — served here with brioche croutons and rapini in a caper brown butter sauce — is a tricky fish. Parc prepares it simply and masterfully. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

On July 14, three days shy of Disneyland's birthday, Stephen Starr's Parc opened to the public on Rittenhouse Square. It was also Bastille Day, but if this giant bistro is a testament to anything, it is that Walt's remains the dominant aesthetic of our time.

Lace curtains hang in the doors and a sea of ecru floor tiles reflect the milky shine of row upon row of classic white globe lamps. Inside, there is old stuff and "old" stuff — vintage fans push a breeze over woodwork artificially aged via cigarette burns. On glass window boxes beneath the red awnings, new paint that has been meticulously faded advertises "Aperitifs du Choix" and, falsely, "Billards." The restaurant's phone number is displayed as though one would need to know the country code for France to make a reservation: 21-55-45-22-62.

Parc is a vivid demonstration of why certain restaurateurs refer to their creations as "shows." And when it comes to producers, there's no impresario quite like Starr. After you've built a restaurant around a jewel-studded motorcycle — as he did at El Vez — you probably don't think twice about filling out your bistro with a Wurlitzer jukebox that's completely empty of records. "Creating a fictitious narrative," Parc's designer Shawn Hausman told City Paper before the restaurant opened, "is what defines what I do."

There's no doubt the man can weave a tale. He makes James Frey and Jayson Blair look like the Wikipedia All-Star team. It is perhaps an irony that all of this wonderful fiction is in service of bistro food — hardly the realm of culinary fabulists — but in the end, who cares? It may not have pool tables, but with 80 of the best sidewalk seats in town and a multi-zoned interior that never loses focus despite its vast sprawl, Starr's simulacrum of a Parisian brasserie is a terrific place to eat and drink.

Let's start with the latter. Parc's wine list has something for just about every palate, and in every price range. At the low end, you'll find smart values like Le Freak, a Shiraz-Viognier you can also find at places like Ansill and Vintage. Parc sells bottles for $30. This is a case of a restaurant working the Pennsylvania system to your benefit: Le Freak typically retails in the $13-$15 range, but the PLCB offers it for just over $7. Everybody wins. It's not often in Philadelphia that you find yourself thinking, "Hey, this is actually a fair deal!" — and on Rittenhouse real estate, no less.

The food is exactly what the furnishings signal: straightforward classics prepared capably and served with remarkable speed for a place this big. I never thought I'd get through lunch in under an hour on a busy Friday at noon, but even with a leisurely figoune cocktail — a refreshing red wine and fig blend that goes down like dry sangria — I wrapped up in 45 minutes.

A recurring dinner special of braised short ribs contained some of the tastiest slow-cooked meat I've had in a while, browned almost to blackness on the outside to give the surprisingly (and delightfully) lean interior some serious depth of flavor. My only complaint about that ode to simplicity was that it rode atop a celery root purée packed with so much butter and cream that the taste of the vegetable had utterly disappeared.

Similar missteps were evident in the arugula salads accompanying a grilled sardine appetizer and an entrée of duck confit. I loved the bewitching mixture of candied orange and shaved fennel that rounded out the former, but both salads were so overdressed that you couldn't taste the peppery greens. And I don't care what McCain's spokesmen say, arugula is a tasty leaf, not some effete intellectual herb that has to be dumbed down for the masses. Nor need celery root be swamped with cream. I guess you could say that Parc's culinary weaknesses are of a piece with the décor: errors of excess.

But dishes hit the mark more often than they miss, as long as you're not expecting much in the way of kitchen daredevilry. That duck confit wasn't very exciting, but the delicious sardine filets — pre-soaked to strip away some of their brininess — made a convert out of one companion who usually steers clear of them. And a gorgeous skate wing, served with traditional browned butter and capers, was as perfectly cooked as that tricky bottom-dweller can be. The caramelized onions in a pastry-style pissaladiere were like soft candy beneath the zippy anchovies and olives. My lunchtime lamb sandwich would have been a winner by dint of bread alone.

And that's what really endeared me to Parc. Entrées and apps are priced fairly by Rittenhouse standards, but my favorite pleasure — along with the prime people-watching — came at no charge. Crusty, textured, baked every day on premises, these baguettes and country loaves are what every Stateside bistro should aspire to.

Whether for the bread or the comfort food or the faux Paris feel, people have been coming to this place in droves right from the first week it opened. Calling one morning for same-day reservations around 7 p.m. on a Monday, I was a little stunned to be offered 5:30 or 8:15. So I hope Parc upholds its first-come, first-served policy with regard to its sidewalk tables. Those can be a wait, but at least the spontaneous among us have got a chance.

I'm also excited to hear that the place will soon open for breakfast, breathing still more life into a well-used square from its western edge. That glow on the tiles, the prospect of a tiny cup of coffee while sunlight filters through the plane trees, that bread coming out of the hearth — Starr has half-owned the night for quite some time in Philadelphia, but with Parc he has a golden opportunity to extend his empire into the dawn hours.

Bread, jam and coffee might not be enough to lure me out of my own kitchen on a weekday morning, but starting the day with a stiff dose of fiction might be just the way to put the day right.

(t_popp@citypaper.net)

Parc | 227 S. 18th St., 215-545-2262, parc-restaurant.com

Hours: Mon.-Thu., 11 a.m.-11 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 10:30 a.m.-mid.; Sun., 10:30 a.m.-10 p.m.

Appetizers, $9-$16; Entrées, $13-$28

Reservations recommended

Wheelchair accessible

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