Smith & Wollensky

Remember how I've temporarily sworn off carbohydrates? Lest you think this has hampered my ability to eat out, think again. That's half the charm of the diet. The all-meat, all-the-time diet, really the brainchild of TPB this fall, led us to Smith & Wollensky.

Located in the posh Rittenhouse Hotel, this particular branch of the New York-based steakhouse offers spectacular views. Speaking of which, thanks to TPB's charming forethought, we were seated overlooking Rittenhouse Square. This time of year, the square is lit up with a multitude of white ball-shaped lights. Debate whether the multi-color variety are better all you want, having the lights there is purely magical. The view also allowed us to ogle the fancy cars, undoubtedly belonging to the many celebrities who choose to stay at the Rittenhouse when in Philadelphia.

Also magical is the service offered at a high-end steakhouse, which Smith & Wollensky executed well. Our bottled water was wheeled to us on a cart with lemon and lime, causing TPB to quip that this was done so the water wouldn't get tired out with the journey to our table. This younger server must have overheard our comments regarding the low-carb diet because our main waiter made reference to it and helpfully steered us away from certain items, suggesting others. After we remarked that the menus were extraordinarily heavy (framed and backed in hardwood), our waiter affably remarked that it makes the place seem more manly.

And it did. Even my caprese salad was served with a steak knife, which was appropriate to tackle the napoleon style of the dish, which I enjoyed. TPB's crabmeat cocktail was chunk full of the good stuff. I chose a dry aged sirloin for my entree, after the explanation that all of the meats except the filet were dry aged on site. Sadly, the crust on the steak was seared a bit too much, rendering it chewy, even though the interior was done to a perfect medium rare. Perhaps this added to the "manliness" quotient required to cut through the steak. Thankfully, however, all steaks are served with Bearnaise and Hollandaises sauces on the side, which renders any dish delicious, really. And, for the record, Bearnaise is better than Hollandaise on steaks. TPB's filet, prepared Oscar style, with crabmeat, Bearnaise, and asparagus, was perfect. As was the accompaniment of our Oberon Cabernet, which our waiter suggested among the cabernets offered. The creamed spinach bore no comparison to the congealed dish of the same name served at so many other restaurants; instead, this was more souffle, with a whipped airy texture that still allowed the spinach flavor to come through.

Although non-judgmentally offered the dessert menu by our seasoned waiter, we managed to decline. Overall, Smith & Wollensky offered a nice balance between a testosterone-laden steakhouse and a romantic setting overlooking Rittenhouse Square. In some ways, the best of many worlds.

Smith & Wollensky is located at 210 W. Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia, PA, (215) 545-1700.

Let them eat steak

With the advent of very cold weather comes my need to hibernate. And eat a lot. Thanksgiving usually signals my taste buds to re-orient to rich starches, from mashed potatoes to pie. In an effort to pick my decadent meals wisely, I've gone back to my favorite diet: low carb. The only diet allowing unlimited portions. Sure, if you cheat, you've then eaten the type of meal typically reserved for midwestern farmers, whose manual labor allows them to burn off about 3000 calories per day, but if you don't cheat, the results can be good.

Which brings me to steak. Whole Foods and DiBruno's offer excellent cuts of my favorite, New York strip. Whole Foods offers "dry aged," which I actually find has a better flavor. While you're at DiBruno's (or your favorite upscale grocery store), don't forget to pick up soppressata and fresh mozzarella -- after all, you're on a diet, you shouldn't feel deprived. In any case, if you're not up to cooking or eating a three inch thick steak, any other New York strip will do; just watch that you pick one without a line of cartilage running through the middle. I am not a huge fan of Omaha Steaks, whose taste and size pales in comparison to Whole Foods, for roughly the same price.

I'd like to think I've perfected the preparation: sauteed. Melt a healthy slice of of butter (carb free! eat all you want!) in a standard frying pan (non-stick for easy clean-up, regular if you're going to do something fancy with the browned bits) and wait for it to bubble a bit. You should be on medium high heat. Add the steak. If more patient than I am, you should hear the crackling of meat when it hits the pan, a signal that the butter was sufficiently hot. If not, it's still okay. Partially cover for three to four minutes. I usually leave the lid "ajar" by about a centimeter so the meat doesn't steam, but you may not even need the lid if your steak is relatively thin. Turn the steak over and partially cover for three to four minutes more. Again, if patience is your virtue, after you remove the steak from the pan, let it sit 1-2 minutes to finish up. This gets you to medium rare, the temperature at which, if you bought an expensive steak, you should be eating it.

Then top. You can be really lazy and enjoy the saffron or garlic herb butter sold by Whole Foods. Melted on top of the steak, it's hard to match. Or get crazy and prepare a quick sauce of diced, sauteed shallots and reduced red wine in the same pan. If you're feeling decadent, sprinkle some Roquefort over the top. Dieting never tasted so good.

Pod

It's all about the bling. Much like the other Stephen Starr restaurants, Pod creates a concept and delivers a theme. A theme that weds my love of Disneyworld with my love of feeling hip. Resembling the inside of a spaceship, Pod offers many interest decorational quirks. The "pods," for example, large round booths (all done, like the rest of the restaurant and its seating, in white sculpted plastic) can be set to different colors of light by the diners. Not surprising from the design firm that brought you Nobu and the W Hotel in New York.

Just as I settled in and was deciding whether the plastic dining chairs were, in fact, comfortable (I'm going with "yes"), Mark Wahlberg walks in. Marky Mark. With an entourage (pardon the pun) of behind-the-camera-looking folks. I know this not because I watched him walk in, but because rather suddenly, TPB lit up, smiling widely but conservatively, and giving a warm nod to people passing directly behind me. Soon after TPB whispered Wahlberg's name to me, followed by a reverent rejoinder, I'm not kidding. So began the refrain of stealing glances, commenting on his real-life versus screen appearance, and speculating on his guests.

Which is all just accoutrement to the scene that is Pod. Wahlberg fit in, as did cocktails named after the colors of the rainbow ("Blue," "Orange," etc.), and Tron, which was playing on a loop on the televisions behind us.

Could I describe the food? Sure, but I'm telling you, it's only part of the ensemble cast at work here. The miso soup was among the best I've had, thanks to generous portioning of tofu and fresh green onion. The dumplings were steamed with a tangy dipping sauce inside of them, a magical and satisfying trick. The "tuna three way" special, which featured tuna tartare, spicy tuna with mango roll, and a spicy tuna taco with large pieces of sashimi in a puffed noodle shell, succeeded for both the mouth and the eye. The bulk of our meal was sushi a la carte, including yellow tail and rainbow roll, among other selections. The sushi doesn't rival the freshness of Sagami or even Genji, but it was still very good.

With my second drink, a sake mojito that I highly recommend, I settled into my star-gazing and hipster posturing. Definitely a good time.

Pod is located at 3636 Sansom Street, http://www.podrestaurant.com/.

Matyson

Opened for nearly four years, Matyson has held its own on Philadelphia’s BYO scene for two main reasons -- its interesting take on seasonal preparations and, perhaps more importantly, its charm. And so far, the sale of the restaurant by Matt and Sonjia Spector (the combination of names that supplied the restaurant’s name) hasn’t hindered its personality.

After dutifully calling when it was clear traffic would prevent our timely arrival, I gave up on subsequent calls advising of our progressive tardiness. When we walked through the door, and offered our excuse, the host chidingly accepted it and seated us, with a comedic aplomb that struck the perfect note of appropriately grudging accommodation. Charming.

As for the take on seasonal preparations, the pan seared Hudson Valley foie gras garnished with pumpkin and pumpkin seed emulsion appetizer offered superb ingredients perfect for the pre-thanksgiving season. The sweetness, stopping short of cloying, was the right counterbalance to the savory succulence of the foie gras. Having recently been served “foie gras” out of can that bordered on tasting like nothing at all, I realized my gratitude for this preparation. The seared tuna, served with broccoli rabe and anchovy almond sauce, was done to perfection. The tuna floated atop the sauce and although I couldn’t pick apart the elements, the synthesis of the saltiness of anchovy and the smooth savory almond worked well together.

Did I mention our waitress? She was someone I would want to befriend, although she rather professionally withheld true personality details, trust me, I could tell she was a good person. Really.

The grilled pork chop, served with herb spaetzle, caramelized apples, bacon and cider demi glaze, offered a strong smoky flavor cooked to a perfect tenderness, a tough order for a three inch chop. The smoky flavor threatened overpower, but was offset with the sweet apples and glaze. TPB ordered the steak frittes, a grilled new york strip , wilted greens and parmesean truffle fries. The steak was a generous cut, with an excellent flavor. Matyson avoided the common mistake a dressing a good cut of meat in a “sauce,” and instead wisely opted to let the flavor of the meat stand on its own. The truffle fries had the most pronounced taste I’ve experienced in a dish claiming to be flavored with truffle. Paired with a sprinkling of good parmesean cheese, the fries invited much more than the “do you want a taste” first helping I got.

Having ogled them being passed by in the small space, desserts were high on our list of things to try. Disappointingly, however, the chocolate hazelnut truffle tart, served with brown sugar ice cream and caramelized bananas, fell short of the promise of its description. Its most major flaw was the overpowering chocolate density of the tart, which was a bit bitter and quite thick. The small scoop of ice cream and bananas did little to balance the bitter taste. I should add that I like dark chocolate, and more complex chocolate flavors, but this particular combination didn’t work. Nor did the brown sugar ice cream stand on its own; the brown sugar flavor simply was not articulated enough to detect. The caramelized bananas were a bit over-torched, leaving it hard (literally) to combine the banana with the rest of the dish. TPB’s coconut cream pie with chocolate ganache and macademia crust fared far better in terms of subtlety of flavor and good combination.

Upon retrieving my checked coat, our host assisted me with my coat. After several glasses of wine, I commented on his kindness, to which he dryly responded, yes, it’s quite classy. Prompting giggles on my part, to which he rejoined, “classy with a K.” I left laughing, happy and full.

Matyson is located on 37 S. 19th Street, Philadelphia, PA 19103, (215) 564-2925. Although BYO, it does accept credit cards.

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.

Cuba Libre

The scene: Old Havana. Cobblestone streets, music floating from restaurants and clubs. Scantily clad women, overdressed men, traveling in crowds. Where can you find such merry-making? Atlantic City. The Tropicana Casino and Resort, to be exact.

To be clear, I'm a fan of Disneyworld. I'm a fan of the created environment, kept perfect in its image and wanting only to entertain. It works for me. And so Cuba Libre, located in the Tropicana's "Quarter," and made to simulate Old Havana, worked for me.

Cuba Libre started as a restaurant in Philadelphia in 2000, offering mostly just that image -- a great party atmosphere in its recreation of a faux cuban courtyard, complete with interior balcony. Which is how I viewed it for many years, a fun party place, until I heard that Guillermo Pernot, formerly of now-closed but once excellent !Pasion! had taken over. Closer research for this post revealed Pernot is actually the "concept chef," for both the Philadelphia and Atlantic City restaurants, a gig I wouldn't mind accepting one day.

In any case, entering the Atlantic City Cuba Libre and being seated was pretty pleasing. Bustling with casino partygoers and loud - live - music, we were led to a candle-lit table near the bar. Our waiter could not have been nicer, striking the perfect note of friendly and attentive.

I should mention what we first ordered first -- drinks. I credit Cuba Libre for helping bring the mojito craze to Philadelphia. Craze might be the operative word here; the mojito menu has grown exponentially in size since I last perused it. From pomegranate to mango, you name the mojito, you can order it. Even better, after I explained that I prefer my mojitos on the sweeter side, the waiter kindly explained that he could add extra guarapa, or sugar cane juice, to my drink. Which worked! Perhaps even more delicious, however, was TPB's order of Cuba Libre's namesake, with the house specialty-made spiced rum and coke.

From there we moved on to the Fire and Ice ceviche, which we were told was one of the few menu items with some spicy heat to it. I didn't taste the heat, but the ceviche was excellent. And again, the dry ice brought more than a few appreciative stares from fellow diners, adding to the fun.

The entrees, however, were spotty. I ordered the Atun Senor Lopez (or "the tuna," as I requested of our waiter), described as seared bigeye tuna, Cuba Libre brand 5 year rum and coconut glaze, malanga puree, dried shrimp and cucumber and tomato salsa. A glossary within the menu hepfully explained that malanga is a "starchy root vegetable with a nutty, earthy flavor." I would describe it as something close to yucca, or a less flavorful potato. And I don't know about you, but "seared tuna" to me means just that - only the outside is cooked. However, this tuna is wrapped around a sugar cane and was pretty well done save for a medium rare section around the sugar cane, in the very center. All of which made the tuna a bit bland. TPB ordered the Plato Cuba Libre, which features tastings of three entrees and three sides. The marinated skirt steak, included in his plate, was worth ordering as a stand-alone. Deliciously seasoned and cooked, it was perfect. Several of his sides missed the mark and needed more flavor.

Our bread pudding dessert, "Pudin de Pan," described as warm Cuban bread pudding, mango compote, hazelnut- praline crunch and dulce de leche gelato, was more to TPB's liking than mine. Let me admit that I am not a fan of fruit mixed with dessert unless that's the point of the dessert, like apple pie. Much like fruit in ice cream, mango with bread pudding detracted from the dish, including the the hazelnut and dulce de leche gelato elements. TPB, however, believed that the mango was a definite plus. The bread pudding itself was executed well, achieving that perfect custard taste that alleviates the heaviness of the dessert.

By this time, the live music started about twenty feet away. A group of marines in full dress uniform hit the floor with their dates. The older man and much younger woman seated near us, who had sparked much speculation from TPB and I about their relationship, rose to dance as well. The illusion of what I, in my more modest travels, might picture of Havana was complete. If you can appreciate the Epcot Center version of life, or even just a fun evening with live music, stick with drinks and appetizers and enjoy.

Cuba Libre is located at The Quarter, Tropicana Casino and Resort, 2801 Pacific Avenue, Atlantic City, NJ. (609) 348-6700, http://www.cubalibrerestaurant.com/.

Ristorante Panorama

What makes Ristorante Panorama (or just "Panorama") so unforgettable are its flights of wines and reputation of having the largest selection of wines by the glass in the region. The bar offers the spectacle you would expect with this description, displaying scores of bottles in glass cabinets attached to tubes hooked to taps. Billed as "the largest wine preservation and dispensing system in the world," Il Bar allows for 120 bottles to be opened and preserved with inert nitrogen gas. Which, when contemplating where to pass a late afternoon in November, seemed like a good idea.

And so I found myself there yesterday, perusing the long wine menu. Oh yes, it's much more than a list; it's long and interesting, with groupings of wines that are both humorous and apt. Although it claims to change every week, the wear on our menus suggested otherwise. Not complaining, however, I ended up with a "Variety of Varietals" and TPB ordered the "Que Syrah, Shiraz" flight. The flights are five 1.5 oz tastes, the perfect amount all together. My varietals included a pinot noir, shiraz, cabernet, merlot, and zinfandel which were fun in and of themselves to sample against one another. I did notice our bartender pouring from some bottles that were simply uncorked, or preserved with the vacuuming system I have at home, rather than the life support system described above. I hesitate to speculate on the meaning of this, however, although both TPB and I suspected that one of our tastings was less than fresh.

Appetizers came next. First was the antipasto misto, a fairly predictable antipasto with a good variety. Prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, a sharper, hard cheese (perhaps a provolone), and a sopressata (I think) provided the backdrop for marinated red peppers, marinated artichoke, and olives. Again, the plate was fairly standard and had me longing for the variety offered at Tria, or at least the explanation of what was included. We also ordered the smoked salmon blinis, which were sadly stale. Finding ourselves still making our way through the wine, we ordered two more appetizers at the bartender's suggestion, the first a fried eggplant napoleon dish with prosciutto and fresh mozzarella swimming in a red pepper sauce. While tasty in the way that all deep fried foods can be, the prosciutto was lost in the fried batter and scant portioning. Nor did I taste the eggplant. It was, however, hearty enough to stand up to the wine.

The next appetizer was Panorama's take on caprese salad, a salad that I have ordered at every single restaurant in Italy when I was there, a salad that my father often prepared through the summer months as I was growing up, and a salad of which TPB and I bonded over our shared propensity to order. When prepared well, caprese can be heavenly in its straightforward presentation of fresh ingredients: tomato, mozzarella, basil and olive oil. Sadly, Panorama did not rise to the occasion. First, Panorama chose to add what I always find distracting: pesto. Often overpowering, this pesto was actually so mild as to be rendered moot by its addition. Two slices of somewhat dry and flavorless prosciutto likewise contributed little. The mozzarella portioning was small and the tomatoes were a bit overripe. I know, I know, this isn't the season for caprese and I should have known better, but I just couldn't resist it.

The bartender dissuaded us from ordering the scallop appetizer, as he strongly believed that the scallops would be overpowered by the red wine. As true as it might be, I'm also of the mindset that in the right mood, food and wine pairings can be mixed at will. We instead ordered the scallops to take home only to find -- at home -- that the dish featured two fairly small scallops. Two. Perhaps the true reason for his dissuading us. What redeemed the appetizer, however, was the celery root puree, which surpassed any mashed potato dish, for its savory notes of balsamic vinegar and salty creaminess.

We likewise took our entrees home to eat, after good advice from the bartender that the freshly made pastas would not hold up to take home and that the meats were excellent. The veal chop lived up to his promise -- perfectly done, with a sauce that served only to accentuate the meat. I ordered the Pollo Farcito con Prosciutto e Mozzarella, or, chicken with prosciutto and mozzarella, which was rolled up, slightly breaded, and baked. Certainly delicious, although I think it would have benefited from more of a sauce.

With inundation of tapas, and the recent awakening of chefs to pairing foods with wine, however, Panorama seems a bit dated. Given their selection of wines, I longed for food pairing suggestions in portions that complemented the small wine tastes. The menu also feels dated, with a small appetizer selection and uninspired choices otherwise.

Panorama's idea of wine flights remains largely unmatched in the region and because of it and the restaurant's consistently cozy-yet-elegant atmosphere, I would still recommend it.

Halloween Candy

I write with news of new candy, candy that quickly reverted me to a small child last night, delighted with my luck in finding it. Far from high cuisine, or even low cuisine, these candies nonetheless are pleasing enough to make you actually ponder the science of new candy technology. Or at least enjoy the piece while it lasts.

The first is the new Reeses Miniature cup - this time, with banana. That's right, peanut butter, banana, and chocolate, a comfort food triumvirate that consistently works. By the fourth bite, did I think, gee, this doesn't taste like real banana, but instead, the kind of banana oil/extract/dye/flavoring you find in banana jelly beans? You betcha. Did it matter? Not really.

The second was the Reeses small "crunch bar." Somehow, the chocolatey peanut flavor has been transformed into peanut-sized nuggets then dipped in chocolate. The ratio of chocolate to peanut improves from the original "cup" form, which is really too much peanut for my tastes.

The third, or third, fourth and fifth, was the new line of Snickers. One traditional, one with dark chocolate, and one with almonds instead of peanuts. Conveniently packaged in a mixed bag, furnishing that "flight of snackbar chocolate tasting" I've always wanted, I appreciate the move to dark chocolate. Snickers is, after all, the perfect mix of candy bar elements.

Not-such-a-winner: new flavors of twizzlers, which, at least in "wild berry" form, seem to have borrowed their flavoring from the cough syrup shelf. Even the "peel and eat" packaging didn't work.

Not to worry, the candy was also distributed to the precious smaller trick-or-treaters, too.