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There are a few things that, in my mind, should be a given when you walk into a restaurant. A host or hostess should acknowledge your presence within a minute or two. Silverware and plates should be clean, or at least close to it. And (this is a big pet peeve) water should be cold, refilled regularly, and be drinkable. What can I say, I drink a lot of water.
Based on this simple final criteria, Memphis Taproom was doomed from the start. Not only was the water warm (not tepid, not lukewarm, I mean, it was warm on a 95-degree evening), not only was there no ice anywhere to be seen in any water glass on any table, not only did our waitress fail to refill our water glasses after our mouths were scalded with a scorched appetizer, but the water tasted disgusting. Fail fail fail.I had read great things about this hip, upscale pub anchoring the revitalization of Fishtown. The beer selection was good (hard to screw that up) and the menu was, well, different. It was very vegetarian friendly and had some weird sandwiches on it (seitan, anyone?). I wasn't expecting that.After our grouchy waitress flubbed her description of the menu, the wife and I went first for the deep-fried pickles, one of those "can't miss" offerings I had read good things about. It's weird and it's different, but that's often the best stuff.Now, I will give our waitress enough credit that she warned us they were incredibly hot and probably shouldn't be eaten without a knife and fork. That was definitely true. Unfortunately, that didn't save my mouth from blistering. Two days later, and I can still feel the remnants of that appetizer. They actually tasted OK for about half a second before my gums started bleeded, but that is hardly consolation. I was panting wanting cold water, but when we finally got our waitress's attention, it was another round of warm Schuykill. Gross.It didn't get much better. My sandwich, a grilled mushroom grinder with other vegetables and cheese, was 99% bread and 1% substance. Really? It is really that hard to give people their money's worth? I was disgusted. I ate half the sandwich and put the rest aside. "Would you like that wrapped, sir?" "Um, no. I wouldn't feed that to the mouse that rummages through our kitchen from time to time."Oh well. On to the full review...THE FOOD: Look, I would understand if the pickles were overdone or the sandwich was sparse or the waitress was a bitch, and then chalk it up to an off night. But I'm sorry, when everything crashes at once, that's the sign of a restaurant I wouldn't ever dare eat at again.THE DRINK: The beer list was extensive. I guess it'd be OK to drink here.THE STAFF: "Gee, let's find the most unfriendly, slovenly bitch in the neighborhood and make her the ONLY waitress in the dining area. Yeah, yeah, that'll work."MAD PROPS FOR: They did have something written on the menu that said something like "If something goes wrong, don't go complaining about it on your blog." I kid you not. Oops.OVERALL: Hated it. Worse meal of this series. It started pouring rain about 3/4 of the way through our meal. Gee, think that was an omen? THE CHECK: $42. The tip wasn't exactly generous.Ineligible restaurants for round 18:- Radicchio -- Nice, casual, neighborhoody joint. It's a place that is easy to go back to when you live right around the corner (not that I do mind you, but I know someone who does).
- Rae -- There was a lot of buzz about this Daniel Stern creation when it opened in the Cira Centre. The space was gorgeous and the prices matched.
- Raw Sushi & Sake Lounge -- The best sushi in the city. The best men's bathroom in the city. One of the best outdoor lounges in the city. Raw is a definite personal family favorite.
- Rembrandt's -- A Fairmount stalwart, which means I have eaten many meals here. Stick to the Paesano's burger, a healthy beef patty with fries and balsalmic aoili, and you can't go wrong. Veer in other directions and I make no promises.
- Rose Tattoo Cafe -- Such a weird restaurant. It's unbelievably stuck in the '70s and it just so ugly from the exterior. Yuck.
- Roy's -- Chain seafood at its worst.
- Rx -- Cool concept with some good brunch food. Only ate here once, but I liked it.
Candidates for round 18:
- Ralph's -- Perhaps the classic South Philly Italian restaurant. www.ralphsrestaurant.com
- Restaurant School at Walnut Hill College -- As the wife will tell you, I have probably mentioned that I wanted to go to dinner here at least 25 times since we've met, but for whatever reason, plans always fall through. They have a few working restaurants open to the public that are run by students. http://www.walnuthillcollege.com/restaurants2009.asp
- Restaurant M -- Classic French in the Morris House Hotel. Just reopened after a 2-year hiatus. Mainly drinks, but a few snacky type options as well. www.morrishousehotel.com
- Ron's Ribs -- Highly recommended by a man who knows his food as the best BBQ in the city. philadelphia.menupages.com/restaurants/rons-ribs/
Jack Nicholson sat two tables to our right flanked by not one by two gorgeous twenty-something women (you go, Jack!). Owen Wilson was in the section behind us curiously eating alone (but fending off the advances of numerous scatily-clan clientele). Reese Witherspoon was with her husband and kids eating at the bar (and largely being left alone). Just another night at Parc, the place to be seen in Rittenhouse Square. Now for everyone who just screamed, "Oh my God, you ate in the company of all of those celebrities! Did you talk to any of them?" you really need to stop being so gullible. None of them were actually in attendance (far as I know). But from all you read about Parc in the papers, it sure seems that they should have been. Next to Davio's, Parc is Philly's leading celebrity magnet, and with the movies currently filming in town, I suspect a lot of people were there on this warm Thursday night hoping to catch a glimpse of stardom. And while I admit my head was on a swivel looking around for a recognizable face or two -- alas, I only saw a local TV talking head buried in the corner of the bar with friends -- I was just hoping for a tasty morsel or two after a lackluster 4 nights in Vegas (talk about overpriced, mediocre food -- thank God I was on the company expense account).Parc bills itself as an upscale French bistro, and it certainly has attained the proper look. All of the bells and whistles are there -- from the neatly tiled floor to the large streaked windows on the wall, to the general color palate within the restaurant. It's a neat looking place with the added benefit of being on the prime square of real estate in Center City over Rittenhouse Square, which means lots of opportunities to watch the pretty people walk by. The competition for outside tables is pretty fierce -- it was about a 45-minute wait at 8 p.m. on a Thursday night. Since we were pretty hungry, we headed inside, but still got a good spot to see what was going on around us.Alas, in the words of the wife, the food was "just OK." There are a lot of unique, bold choices on the menu, particularly as far as appetizers are concerned. Escargot, grilled sardines, an onion tart with anchovies, etc. The wife was in a giving mood, and seeing how much I wanted to delve into something different, she let me get the steak tartare with quail's egg. Served with a couple pieces of crunchy bread, it was quite good. Steak tartare really isn't as scary as it sounds -- I don't know how to describe the texture adequately, but while yes, it is raw meat chopped finely, it doesn't taste raw (if that makes any sense). That said, it's not one of those items that I would order just anywhere. You have to have at least a little faith that the quality is going to be there, and at Parc, it was. No qualms from me, and the wife didn't get green gilled after trying it, so that says something.Unfortunately, the meal took a quick downhill spiral when the entrees came out. I took a shot for the Thursday night special, the rouget en barigoule -- essentially, red mullet in fish stock with artichokes and olives. It was bland, bland, bland. Every bite tasted like wet artichokes, and that's not exactly a wonderful flavor, especially for $28. The wife fared somewhat better with her seared scallops, but they weren't exactly generous with her portion -- three medium-sized scallops for $24. And that's a lot of my problem with places like Parc. They know they are going to pack in the moneyed folk to gawk and they consequently tend to soak them for every penny with average food. The focus of these places are not necessarily on the flavor, it's on ambiance and romance and design. And that's fine for some folks who like to be whooshed off their feet by their surroundings, but I'd take a shack on the corner with great food anytime over a multi-million dollar venue with just average vittles.Alas. On to the full details...THE FOOD: The highlight of the meal was dessert, a carmelized apple tart with vanilla ice cream. It was a little bit hard to eat, but worth every effort. I do have to note some of the weird parts of the menu though that stood out. Most appetizers and entrees were very French, as they should have been, and I can understand throwing a cheeseburger on there for the non-adventurous or the children. But spaghetti bolognese? Really?THE DRINK: A huge bar means a huge wine list (and of course, huge prices). I had a $11 glass of Bordeaux Blanc from Chateau la Frenelle, which, I must say, was excellent. I could have drank a lot more of it. I'll keep an eye out for it next time I make a Jersey wine run.THE STAFF: Nothing special. It's a loud, crowded place not really conducive to talking with your waiter about the menu. We didn't have any problems with the staff per se, so I'll reserve much in the way of comment here.MAD PROPS FOR: I always like seeing how restaurants design their bathrooms and Parc was indeed a bit unique. The walls in the men's room were covered with rather risque pictures of nekkid women -- some of them I looked at and said, "Really?" I understand the art of it all, but some of it was quite provacative. Geez, I sound like a stuffy old man. What I meant to say was, "Awesome! Totally awesome!"OVERALL: I am not into the whole Rittenhouse Square trio of restaurants -- Rouge, Devon, and Parc. I mean, the views are great and the spaces are huge, but you rarely get what you are paying for (except for the night where I witnessed an impromptu striptease at the bar at Bleu that was quite, um, titilating. Another story for another time). I wouldn't be against going back to Parc for Happy Hour or something, but I'm not interested in another meal there. Sorry, Reese and Owen. You can eat without me.THE CHECK: $120 for two, with tip. I wuz robbed.On to the... oh wait, there aren't enough Qs to go around. That means it's time for the wild card round! In the wild card round, we'll bring back some of the "almost" winners from earlier competitions and pit them against each other in the lucky losers bracket. Rules are the same as always -- most votes win.Since we've been pretty Rittenhouse-centric the last few times out, this entry's choices are all on the inner rings of the city, but not smack dab in the middle. I feel the need to change things up.Candidates for round 17:
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