Coast Guarded

Bar Amalfi plays it a little too safe.

by David Snyder

Neal Santos LINKED IN: Chef/owner Al Paris pairs fennel sausage with creamy polenta for one of Bar Amalfi's strongest dishes.

Al Paris has been around the Philly scene long enough to know a hot property when he sees one.

In 2006, Paris acted fast when he noticed the restaurant at 18th and Sansom that had been Yann's Pastries & Café was vacant. "When I saw it on the market I said, 'This has too much potential,'" Paris told me in an interview. The space used to house Neil Stein's famous Fish Market in the early '70s. (The chef helped Stein design Striped Bass and worked with him on Pomodoro; since that time, Paris has been a fixture in this town, putting his mark on eateries like Rococo, Circa, Guru and Zanzibar Blue, just to name a few.)

So Paris converted the quaint off-Rittenhouse spot into pan-Asian-themed Mantra. A few months back, he decided to convert it again into Bar Amalfi, a seafood-centric Italian eatery. "[Mantra] had a nice little run until the economy fell and you saw your clientele narrow," Paris explained of the business decision.

Aside from applying a little new paint and getting rid of some of the artwork, the chef didn't do much to change the décor. And I don't blame him — Paris did all the renovations for Mantra himself, including the walnut and butternut bar he crafted by hand. Plus, if you stare at the sculptural gypsum panels behind that bar long enough, their wavy iridescence, though orange, may evoke thoughts of the coastal area in Salerno after which the restaurant is now named.

Aside from simply to getting back to his roots, one of the reasons the Italian-American Paris decided to focus on this cuisine was a perceived gap in the market. "There are a lot of high-end Italian places and a lot of pizza shops, but not too much in the middle," Paris said. "And that's where I wanted to be."

But the middle is a confusing goal. While there aren't too many in Amalfi's immediate neighborhood, Philly is teeming with Italian eateries that fall between high-end and pizza shop, including Paris' own Pat Bombino's on South Ninth Street. More importantly, the middle (half-and-half, or "mezzo mezzo") is a phrase Italians employ to describe experiences that were neither bad nor good — just so-so.

And in the middle, unfortunately, is exactly where Bar Amalfi currently resides. None of the food is inherently flawed or offensive — but much of it isn't particularly interesting, either. There wasn't anything that helped me shake the feeling that I could find more memorable versions of these home-style dishes at dozens of other neighborhood Italian spots.

Sometimes, the kitchen's flavors arrived muted, making the food come off like distant echoes of comforting dishes past. Though the meatballs were moist and the gravy was balanced, the Neopolitan spaghetti was bland. The kitchen braises honey suckling ribs all night with 20-year-old balsamic vinegar, but I found myself wondering why they were surprisingly flavorless.

When bolder flavors came into play, plates were sometimes overwhelmed by a single ingredient. Although the ricotta ravioli seemed slightly out of place buried beneath pulled short ribs, I was looking forward to tasting the appetizer's accompanying onion raisin jam. But due to a heavy reliance on balsamic vinegar, I wouldn't have known the condiment was there if it weren't mentioned on the menu. That same overwhelming balsamic blocked my tongue from appreciating a fresh delicacy like Amalfi's tuna tartare.

Drew Lazor

In other cases, a lack of focus prevented dishes from making a more positive impression. I would have enjoyed the perfectly cooked herb-grilled salmon more if the putanesca sauce were not ice-cold. I liked the crunch of the risotto cake in the fresh coastal roast tuna salad, but the fish itself was overdone. I was looking forward to the house-made Sophia's cheesecake brülée, but the kitchen somehow forgot to brülée the top.

What's frustrating is that there are several dishes here that show quite clearly that Amalfi is capable of rising above the middle of the pack. A delicate touch of white balsamic in a tomato cruda granted goat cheese gnocchi depth and freshness. The acidity of the after-grill marinade Paris brushes onto sweet fennel sausage made it a wonderful complement to his light, creamy house-made polenta. Simple leeks, roasted garlic and sweet vermouth added life to the mussels cinzano.

What Paris said about this space in 2006 is also true of the restaurant he runs there today — there is much potential. With a little more commitment, Bar Amalfi could do so much better than just so-so.

(david.snyder@citypaper.net)

Bar Amalfi | 122 S. 18th St., 215-988-9060, baramalfi.com.

Appetizers and salads, $7-$10; pasta and entrées, $13-$19.

Hours: Tue.-Sun., 5 p.m.-2 a.m.