Patience is a Virtù

Waiting for spring pays dividends at this stellar Passyunk Avenue Italiano.

by Elisa Ludwig

	print	email	reply	rss feed

Published: May 13, 2008

Michael T. Regan HOP TO IT: Chef Luciana Spurio infuses rabbit ravioli with cocoa and dresses it with a sage-butter sauce and amaretto cookie crumbs. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

A recent visit to the South Philly trattoria Le Virtù seemed charmed from the start for two reasons — the first being the new spring menu that, according to our server, was making its debut that night. The second was our server, a skinny-belted gentleman of the new Passyunk breed who impressed all of us with his enthusiasm but won extra points when he called my mother "dear."

It's true that we were lucky to be at Le Virtù in the first place, which, in just seven months of service, has established itself as one of the finer destinations on an already-pretty fine stretch of restaurant-lined pavement. The décor feels fresh and clean but unassumingly rustic, the main dining room outfitted in exposed brick and yellow paint, the tables overlooking a courtyard terrace that's just starting to get some warm-weather diners. (A separate tavern area with a mural-backed bar accommodates drinkers of crisp Vernaccia and nibblers of fried snacks.)

Throughout, service moves purposely and swiftly but not hurriedly. I dropped a knife only to look up and see my replacement gleaming in front of me — a server was totally on the case before I even considered plunging the side of my fork in my octopus.

But if Le Virtù has a primary virtue (and actually, it's harder than you think to choose just one), it's its ability to seamlessly bridge Passyunk old and new, staying true to the neighborhood's Italian roots while asserting its own regional identity, the Abruzzi cuisine this kitchen masterfully rocks.

Your first glimpse of it is a paper-lined plate of pizza fritta, long delicate strips of fried dough that crisp into airy hollowness your mouth, and half rounds plump with a filling of melty fiore di latte mozzarella and sage. (Regular bread and olive oil comes later, but by then it seems much less enticing.)

Sit facing the kitchen and you can spy, through shelves of crockery, chef Luciana Spurio, long braid of hair and intent expression, making magic with your maccheroni. The spring menu, even in its earliest days, is right on the money with ravioli plumped with puréed asparagus and zucchini, the crêpe-like ruffled edges crisp and browned and tied like beggar's purses with chives. A superb grilled baby octopus (what I was eating when I inadvertently jettisoned my cutlery) shimmers with olive oil, its tender purple tentacles reaching out across the plate like the hand of Venus to a lemony potato salad in a radicchio leaf shell.

Many of the original menu items live on, and they are equally worthy. There's no denying the lure of fried stuffed olives, a dish my in-laws make at home during the holidays, and one that, like any labor-intensive treat, is always savored down to the last breadcrumb. Here, the green olives are crammed with a mixture of ground chicken, beef and pork, blanketed in a breaded outer coating that is surprisingly smooth and crisp.

Though the house arancini are no longer officially on the menu, we were told we could still order them. The fried balls of risotto, embedded with tiny meatballs and bursting peas, are rich and tomatoey.

Fresh pastas are downright exquisite, like the square-shaped maccheronchini alla Chitarra (guitar-string pasta) with an abundant crumbled lamb ragu redolent with rosemary. Like the olives, the Timbale di Scrippelle is a special-occasion dish and the stack of crêpes layered with tomato sauce, mozzarella, spinach and tiny meatballs is like a Type-A lasagne, each meticulous, tissue-thin layer heightening the delicate texture.

What can be said about the cocoa-infused ravioli filled with minced rabbit meat spiked with cinnamon, bathing in sage-butter sauce and intensified with sweet shavings of amaretto cookie? Only gushing, grinning things, that's what.

It doesn't get humbler than the mixed spiedini (skewer) platter, combining hunks of grilled chicken and sausage, simply plated with shredded lettuce. The Rana Pescatrice alla Pizzaiola, three steaks of dense monkfish sautéed with garlic, sweet puckered cherry tomatoes and briny capers is brothy but intensely flavorful, the dish punctuated by plump mussels and tiny clams.

If there are weak spots, they might include the taleggio-stuffed gnocchi, which, though ideally creamy and toothsome, could have used more seasoning. The chicken roasted under a brick was all smoky char, overriding the subtler pepper and garlic flavors. And OK, if we're getting really picky, the vanilla pannacotta was a couple teaspoons of sugar short.

But the other desserts more than make up for that one. My dad called the new-for-spring limoncello tiramisu "cloudlike," and I am hard-pressed to come up with my own better description for the fluffy mousse and impossibly moist ladyfingers. Our trusty server assured us we would love the pizza dolce, a traditional Abruzzi dessert, layers of rosewater-liqueur-soaked spongecake layered with chocolate pastry cream, almond cream and almonds, and he was right. It's considered another special occasion dish, usually served at weddings, but when you're at Le Virtù, I guess you're just lucky that way.

(e_ludwig@citypaper.net)

Le Virtù

1927 E. Passyunk Ave., 215-271-5626, levirtu.com

Hours: Dinner, Wed.-Mon., 5:30-10:30 p.m.; bar open Wed.-Mon, 5 p.m.-2 a.m.; closed Tue.

Appetizers, $8-$10.50; Entrées, $11-$30

All reader comments are subject to our Terms of Use. By clicking Post Comment, you acknowledge that you have reviewed and agree to these Terms.

Name	please enter your name
Email (will not be published)	please enter a valid email
Comment	please enter a comment
Enter the security code on the right in the textbox below.
Security Code	please enter the code
	Join the City Paper Mailing List

Feeding Frenzy
Gut Check
The Week In Eats
Achievements in ABV Excellence
Veggie Burger Special at Johnny Rockets