February 22–March 1, 2001

food

An A for B

B Side: Avenue B’s grilled swordfish with lemon vinaigrette, chickpea torta, roasted tomato and eggplant confit. photo: Michael LeGrand

by Maxine Keyser

Avenue B

260 S. Broad Street, 215-790-0705

Lunch: Mon.-Fri., 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Dinner: Nightly from 5 p.m. Late-night menu at the bar and in the café. Wheelchair access. Reservations necessary. All major credit cards.

Like the knife poised blade downwards at your table setting as if ready for flight, so is Avenue B poised for success. From the minute you pass under the raucous marquee, making this another theatrical venture on a street of theaters, you feel the hum; a thrumming, like a vibrating wire. We are on our toes, it seems to say; we have a world-class chef, a stunning venue and two expert restaurateurs pulling the strings.

Neil Stein and Gabe Marabella have gone to New York for a chef before (Terence Feury, from Le Bernardin to Striped Bass), so getting Terence’s brother Patrick from Le Cirque 2000 was not impossible. The Tuscan-inspired concept may not be groundbreaking, but this utterly sophisticated yet rustic cuisine, coupled with wordly decor, make for the best show on the street.

On my first visit, the bar was only an amorphous blur of color, glimpsed through the sandblasted glass wall. Now I see that those colors were the impressive display of bottles, and I like the snakeskin barstools. (I read once that Onassis had barstools made from the foreskins of whales, but these will do.) I also admire the large French clocks, visible enough so that no one will miss their curtain, and the generous martinis. The prices on the bar menu — a tasty hanger steak for $15, for instance — are a lot gentler than the dining room’s decidedly high tariff. In fact, if a light pre- or post-theater meal is what you’re looking for, you might prefer to eat right at the bar, or in the intimate lounge.

Then again, you’d be missing something if you never tried the full menu in the dining room. So bright and barren in its previous incarnations (Joseph’s, Bonaparte’s), the room is softly lit now, with dark African woods formed into latticework screens to close off different dining areas without obscuring the view. Marguerite Rodgers has once more done her job well. We settle in on brown and cream-colored banquettes, and on the oh-so-comfortable leather chairs. The menu colors mirror the pale green olive oil that is placed on the table in the original carafe (reverse chic, I think) with the homemade focaccia, and the aforementioned place settings are handsome and sleek. The music is ’40s mellow.

At an earlier dinner, I had a salad of wilted Treviso lettuce and escarole topped with goat cheese baked in pancetta ($12) that was a refreshing take on the overdone warm goat cheese/ mesclun salad. We had savored seared diver scallops, barely gelled beside a warm lentil salad, with a sprinkling of truffles ($15) — a marriage of the sea and the earth. And yes, they do serve pasta in Tuscany — potato gnocchi ethereally bathed in a cream of Gorgonzola Dolce, the sweeter form of Gorgonzola ($12). One light entrée, the grilled swordfish with a lemon vinaigrette ($33), and one heavier one, saddle of wild boar ($32), followed. The swordfish was pink and moist, and the tart vinaigrette played well against the tomato and eggplant confit on the side. A winsome torta of chickpeas added a crunchy texture. Feury obviously knows how to handle game, for he combined the boar with chestnuts and served it up rich and juicy with unobtrusive kale for contrast.

We’re back this evening to do a tasting menu, a very good way to sample the kitchen’s riches, with appropriate wines by the glass suggested by Stein’s truly knowledgeable beverage manager, Marni Olds (Avenue B’s sommelier is Sarah Cain). We start with an amuse-bouche, a crouton of roasted tomatoes and salt cod puree, with a glass of Prosecco ($6), a crisp, sparkling wine from the Veneto, and move on to a warm salad of lobster and fingerling potatoes, tossed in a vinaigrette dotted with lobster coral ($15). My only complaint is the black service plates, which blur the colors of the food, but all the wines taste even better in the wonderful oversized stemware that Avenue B uses.

Silky foie gras terrine melts beside thin garnet slices of prosciutto made from duck ($13), with a quince mostarda as garnish. Fruits preserved in a vinegar/honey blend with mustard are native to Cremona, and lend a piquancy to the rich foie gras. The wine is a Montepulciano D’Abruzzo ($8), a light but luscious wine full of plums and raspberries.

Portions have been just the right size, so we are not too full to enjoy grilled veal, pink against a salsa verde (a characteristic green sauce made with flat-leaf parsley, onions, olive oil and sometimes capers). The veal is so tender it doesn’t need the handsome scimitar-like knife that is provided. The sharpness of roasted lemon with the more delicate flavor of those fingerling potatoes, and some fresh asparagus draped in prosciutto, seem to echo the salsa. The earthy tobacco tones of the Chianti Classico ($7) complement these vibrant seasonings. We keep this wine to finish with the plate of farmhouse cheeses ($7) with a little fruit that comes next.

Desserts ($7) are very often ho-hum in Italian restaurants, but Avenue B is a notable exception. Pastry chef Alison Bilek caramelizes apples on a tiny cake, made crunchy with the addition of semolina, and cools it with a blast of rosemary gelato. Ricotta cheesecake floats beside a sunset-colored blood orange granité. A crostata of warm pears is complemented by a creamy custard of mascarpone, and, our favorite, chocolate semifreddo with a hint of espresso, sports a warm, cinnamony bombolini beside it. This creamy Italian donut makes Krispy Kreme look tacky. A delicate, fruity Moscato ($7) is a lovely way to end the meal.

An evening at Avenue B is an event, and, unfortunately, given the prices, that is what it will be for most people — an event. But if price is no object, you will appreciate every sophisticated detail — from the attentive, black-clad staff, to the décor, to the heavily Italian wine list. The food — well, Patrick Feury is a masterful chef. Sometimes his restraint can seem spartan, but his grasp of authenticity never wavers and is utterly driven by the season. When the weather warms, and the windows are open to the large, flowery terrace and Patrick serves the fruits of summer, there will be no pleasanter spot.