La Viola

When anyone asks me where they should go to eat in Philadelphia, I send them to La Viola. It embodies the Philadelphia restaurant scene -- it's a BYO, it offers delicious, homemade Italian food, its servers have larger-than-life personalities and, best of all, it's cheap. I hadn't been in a while and this outbreak of decent weather prompted a visit.

Signage to the contrary, the La Viola outpost I've always enjoyed was closed. So I crossed 16th Street to its new "wing." Lucky I knew that they had expanded; there were no signs directing diners here, nor were there signs across the street naming the place. "La Viola Ovest," or La Viola West, beckons diners solely with a buttery glow and thick velvet curtains. Our hostess explained that the original location is closed on Mondays. Offering slightly more room than La Viola, the west location offers more seating as well.

The menu was interesting. A slight mirror to La Viola, the entrees are slightly more expensive, inexplicably so. My favorite grilled calamari dish was offered with shrimp at this location, albeit a measly addition with two smallish shrimp and none of the delicious grilled jus that I had enjoyed with bread across the street. Resisting my two standbys, the steak of the day (always delicious) and the lobster ravioli, I opted instead for the tagliatelle al salmone. I should tell you that the pasta is homemade, and this should prompt you to eat there, very soon. The pasta tastes homemade in that way that, after boxes of pasta, you forgot how much you love it. The dish was served in a pink cognac sauce, filled with a light creaminess and a hint of tomato that complimented the tender salmon. My friend ordered the caesar salad, which I both love and hate for its generous portion of garlic and dousing of dressing, perfectly contrasted against the crisp romaine and shaved parmesan. A vegetarian, she got the Penne Alla Caruso, featuring pencil point pasta in a vodka tomato sauce with peas and pancetta (minus the pancetta). Needless to say, we cleared our plates. Tiramisu is another favorite of mine here, but we managed to forego it, lingering instead over the bottle of wine and good conversation.

The price? $20 for each of us, for a sizable appetizer and entree. We got to bring the wine of our choice. The room was simple and cozy. It's what makes the Philadelphia restaurant scene truly great.

La Viola is located at 253 S. 16th Street, Philadelphia, Pa.; La Viola Ovest is located at 252 S. 16th Street. Photo thanks to http://www.philadelphia.citysearch.com/.

Update: Maggiano's

Two words: canned spinach.

Two caveats: This was a different Maggiano's location than I had previously reviewed; it is in King of Prussia. Second, this location has the distinct convenience of being adjacent to the movie theaters. Which is a nice perk.

Maggiano's, Chain Restaurants, and Blogging

I have certainly thought about being a great food writer. In these dreams, I would endlessly opine about the latest high-end restaurant to open. Being able to recognize every spice in every mouthful and determine its appropriateness in the dish, I would be ruthless but fair in my evaluations. I'd know how every vegetable should be chopped and how the chef varied from classical cookery to achieve a particular effect. My days would be spent writing about my experiences. For variety, I'd research how feasible the slow food movement really is and whether the farm bill really expands the nutritional gap between the rich and the poor.

Back in reality, however, I have a full-time job that occupies much of my energy and has nothing to do with food. Unless you count memorizing the Marathon Grill menu, which every Philadelphia lawyer has down cold. I like to cook, but mostly elaborate things and as a result, I don't cook that often. I like to eat out, but lately, it's been more about comfortable restaurants -- predictable, fulfilling, and offering lots of booths.

Which brings me to my topic: chain restaurants. When I looked back on what the first restaurant I wanted to review was, I thought of the last place I ate out. On purpose, not as an afterthought, quickly after work (although quick props to the reliable Square on Square and the awesome Tequila's). And that place was Maggiano's.

And it was good. Maybe even great. From the uber-professional host to the chatty but nice waitress, I really enjoyed it. We were seated in a great booth by the window, and the wine list featured one of my favorite cabernets by Sterling. I giddily ordered "zucchini fritti" and their shrimp appetizer special that night, which featured jumbo shrimp not just deep fried, but deep fried with asiago. That's right, breading and cheese. Yet with dipping sauces that ended in the word "aoli," I didn't feel like I was contributing to the downfall of the American palate. The "fritti" preparation lent itself to its subject in the precise way one wants from fried food -- it made it better, more reliable, more comforting.

Then my entree arrived -- strip steak "al forno," which apparently means baked. It apparently also means a thick, but not tough, outer layer, and a perfectly grilled center. It was perfect. I mean, it was better than non-chain restaurants. That's how tasty it was.

All of this good cheer led to ordering dessert, although we were sober enough to agree to split it. It was tartufo and it was great. It involved bits of chocolate and cherry frozen into vanilla ice cream and covered again with a chocolate shell. I have never been trained in the art of desserts, nor anything culinary actually, but the mix of chocolate, cherry and ice cream was somehow perfect.

The valet was even wearing a branded shirt, which was oddly comforting. Heck, the bar even looked good. I'd go back. Which perhaps summarizes the explanation of the popularity of the successful chain restaurant: its predictability. And its booths. I'm a sucker for a good booth.