Smart Mouth

Bocca is well on its way to carving out its own small plates niche.

by David Snyder

Mark Stehle RAW-ABIDING: Chef Chris D'Ambro updates classic beef tartare with clever modern elements like balsamic vinegar spheres and caper "air."

I'm no fashion expert, but I'm pretty sure that the Daisy Dukes trend has long passed. The last time I saw a female bartender donning these super-short shorts was in 2003, as she line-danced across a bar while pouring shots down patrons' throats at my friend's bachelor party in Harrisburg. Luckily, our night ended without any arrests — but suffice it to say, my buddy's wife has not spoken to me since their wedding.

So when I peered up from my menu a couple of weeks ago and saw two female barkeeps sporting dainty denims at Bocca, Old City's newest Mediterranean small plater, I wondered whether the meal I was about to order would end better (or worse) than that evening in the state's capital.

After just one bite of chef Chris D'Ambro's fried artichokes, I had my answer. The tender morsels, resting in a delicate white gazpacho that doubled as a sauce, played well against the bitter roasted almond in that cold soup. At the same time, thanks to vinegar, green grapes and lemon zest, the sauce's acidity cut through the chokes' richness to spotlight a singular freshness. An unexpectedly pleasant start — and as I worked my way through more of D'Ambro's menu, it became clear that Bocca (mouth in Italian) is on its way to carving out its own niche in the small plates arena.

Over the winter, owners Mario and Natale Presta (who also own Bella Trattoria and Sapphire in Manayunk) retooled their Amici Noi into a modern small plates spot by adding swanky high-backed suede banquettes and a raised cutout ceiling. The most important addition, though, was Chester County native and CIA grad D'Ambro. At only 24 years old, he already has a solid résumé: Savona, Sovana Bistro, a stint in Florence and an apprenticeship with Marc Vetri.

Small plates are nothing new in Center City. Neither are Mediterranean small plates, for that matter. (Bocca's nearest peer, Privé, is less than a block away.) But these dishes have a unique look and feel. One thing that sets Bocca's fare apart is D'Ambro's tempered approach to each plate. Sometimes he'll incorporate modern techniques into his cooking — yes, that means you may see a foamy emulsion or a powder. But D'Ambro is effective at integrating these elements judiciously, without compromising focus.

Take the timeless beef tartare. D'Ambro updates this standard by using hanger steak instead of filet or sirloin, granting the dish rich, gamey flavor. Tiny decorative spheres of balsamic caviar, which D'Ambro makes with agar-agar, a natural structural ingredient commonly found in Chinese food, add delicate flashes of sweetness and acidity. An emulsion (or "air") of capers adds a subtle puff of brininess. None of these nouveau elements upset the dish's balance — each bite remains accessible and fun.

The one dish where haute technique seemed to dominate, though, was the carrot confit. Like all of D'Ambro's creations, it's visually stunning — bright green and orange from carefully arranged fava beans, English pea purée and tender carrot blocks slow-cooked in olive oil (hence the "confit"). The chef also incorporates a white olive oil powder, which he makes by blending the oil with tapioca maltodextrin. But because carrots typically don't take center stage in a dish, it's hard to relate to this plate — and that powder stands out more than he probably intended.

But what keeps D'Ambro grounded, ironically, is his appreciation for chemistry. He thinks about ingredients from an elemental perspective to achieve harmony and, occasionally, to showcase creativity.

Everyone knows that sweetness is the perfect complement to foie gras because it cuts through the fatty richness, and D'Ambro follows this model by adding blueberries and honey as accompaniments on his foie plate. But he also employs acidity and spice, as well. The citrus cure D'Ambro uses on his duck liver helps moderate the fullness of flavor, and two layers of pepperiness — a blueberry mostarda (an Italian condiment made with ground mustard seed and cayenne pepper) and pink peppercorns in a side of tapioca pearls — give this classic a refreshing complexity.

Some of Bocca's best dishes are simpler than that. Though I wanted more rhubarb flavor in the homemade ketchup, orange juice, cardamom and black pepper help to make the "chic" pea frites one hell of a bar snack. A crispy chip of fish skin added textural contrast to lightly chilled bass seasoned with fennel pollen and Spanish saffron threads. Sweet, tender brown butter spaetzle and a playful lettuce velute (romaine lettuce purée) worked nicely with perfectly cooked domestic lamb.

I was not a fan of the risotto — bits of rendered bacon overwhelmed with a flavor reminiscent of Bac-Os — But D'Ambro's command of Italian cuisine is still apparent. Whether it was his stint in Florence or juju that rubbed off from Vetri, Bocca is now home to one of the best gnocchis in town — virtually weightless, the pasta clouds come paired with asparagus and a bright lemon custard. And it's tough to pick between D'Ambro's two heavenly flatbread pizzas: the classic asparagus with goat cheese, béchamel and walnuts or the fava bean purée with taleggio and prosciutto di parma. Either way, the crispy crusts will make you wish you didn't have to share.

Small plates can add up quickly, but Bocca seems to be pioneering new ground here, as well, with high-end tapas that fit the budgets of those who dine out regularly. The most expensive plate is $16. The dish you'd expect to cost the most — lobster ceviche, which comes with generous chunks of lightly poached crustacean — runs only $9.

Bocca's upgraded fare leads to some discontinuity. The cheesy artwork, the flickering blue LED "faux-tive" candles, and — of course — those Daisy Dukes fit more with the club scene that takes over the space at night than the sophisticated fare D'Ambro turns out. As other club/restaurant hybrids have shown, the place may ultimately have to choose one over the other. But for now, at least, Bocca's poised to set new trends, not follow old ones.

(david.snyder@citypaper.net)

Bocca | 236 Market St., 215-625-6610, bocca236.com. Tue.-Sat., 5 p.m.-2 a.m.; closed Sun.-Mon. Small plates, $5-$16. Wheelchair accessible.