Last Thursday we arrived in Philly to rent our reasonably-sized Taurus (or similar), only to be told we would be "upgraded" to a Land Rover or some such nonsense. I don't keep track of SUVs, so I can't tell you exactly what kind of gas guzzler it was, only that when we did get lost later on, going 96 miles out of our way used up a full third of the gas tank. Which is probably 3 times the size of our Civic. Yikes. That, and it made negotiating the narrow, crowded streets of Philadelphia a challenge. But I'm here to write about food!
We found a rare metered spot on Chestnut and headed off to our destination, Amada, but on the way, we were sidetracked by a sign in a window boasting "Chimay - on draft." (we are easily distracted by beer) Now, I personally can't really drink Chimay without losing a ton of brain cells, but still. Any bar with Chimay on tap is a place I want to be. Eulogy Belgian bar's imposing list of 200+ beers (really, really great beers) is made less so by being very neatly arranged alphabetically. Each beer is described and listed next to its alcohol content (this is necessary when drinking these sorts of beer, because if you're used to Bud Light and order a Dogfish Head 120 minute IPA, you might find yourself falling over after 2 pints, owing to its 20% alcohol content) and price. I tried a very fine Flemish Sour ale whose name has, of course, completely escaped me. We did share this nice organic Saison:
Would that Columbus would have an interesting bar. Eulogy was really kind of a divey, quite frankly, which made it all the better.
Info: Eulogy Belgian Tavern, aka Beer Heaven 136 Chestnut Street (Old City) 215.413.1918
And then we were off to Amada. Now, none of my readers had recommended Amada, but a friend told me he had been to a really great tapas place in Philly, but couldn't remember the name. Google gave me Amada, and Amada gave me a great meal. Our bartender at Eulogy cautioned us against going there, saying it was too touristy, and didn't we want to go where the locals go? He very kindly wrote down some suggestions, including a vegetarian place he said was "amazing." But we have arguably one of the best vegetarian restaurants in the country in our fair city, and I've only been there twice in 7 years (despite having had great meals both times), so the chances I'm going to go vegetarian are pretty slim. Especially when Amada promised hand-shaved, whisper thin slices of Serrano. And furthermore, we were tourists, so we felt we would be in place, fresh off the plane as we were. (By the way, I am not the best flyer, although I am working on it, so thanks to Southwest for the prompt and smooth flights. I'll review Skybus when we head to Napa in a few weeks).
Amada's space is charming - long and dark (too dark, to be frank), full of wood and candles. There is a large kitchen, open on three sides, and a bar where I would be inclined to sit and watch the cooking if I were ever to revisit. Behind the bar are wooden kegs of house wine, the bar itself was long, cool marble. My only complaint is this: the restaurant was really, really dark, which is why my pictures are so terrible. The menu, despite being very large physically, is printed with teeny tiny red type. We had such a hard time reading the menu we both felt like that 90 year old woman we've all waited on who's constantly calling for a lighted magnifying glass.
Amada's menu is mostly traditional tapas. There are some larger plates - if you have at least 3 friends, you can even call ahead for a whole roasted suckling pig! The menu is divided into cured meats, cheeses, salads, grilled items, etc. We sampled nearly half the menu. Tapas-style eating is a favorite of mine, because I get very bored eating the same thing over and over, so this was perfect for me.
We ordered at a leisurely pace, and the food came at a leisurely pace - sometimes 2 dishes at a time, sometimes one, it was very relaxed - timing was perfect, we never felt rushed, never waited for anything, and just kept ordering until we finally decided we could take no more.
The bread service at Amada consists of a good - if crumbly - flatbread, served with something akin to tuna mayo - mayo mixed with tuna and capers:
First up, the aforementioned hand-shaved Serrano ham, served with bread and a cute little divided plate of cornichons, caperberries, and mustard. The ham was lightly drizzled with olive oil, and was so silky it simply melted on the palate. The accoutrements were tasty but unnecessary. You didn't want anything to get between you and the lovely, lovely ham:
Husband and I are completely powerless when confronted with bacalao (salt cod), so we had to order the bacalao fritters, which were light and fluffy compared with many, and were topped with a little scoop of paddlefish roe (again, note the cute plate. I'm such a sucker for packaging.):
Oysters! Yes, please! Malpeque Oysters were served along with a little shot glass of Cava (Spanish sparkling wine), which I thought was a great idea. Husband thought the Cava was too sweet to pair with the oysters, but agreed it was a stoke of genius. The oysters were also topped with a little dose of paddlefish roe:
One of my favorite dishes of the evening, and one I hope to recreate at home very soon, was the clams with chorizo. Perfectly cooked clams were paired with zesty chorizo, making a broth that had both of us practically drinking from the bowl. We also had a lovely warm salad of fava and Lima beans, tossed with roasted red peppers and red onions, in a simple vinaigrette, topped with shaved Manchego:
There was a really, really great dish of mushrooms a la plancha (grilled). These were seasoned very simply, although probably were soaked in butter (it's vacation! Bring on the butter!) Again, it was so dark that it was difficult to identify just what varieties of mushrooms we had. We had a very simple plate of baby squids a la plancha, which were straightforward, seasoned with restraint, tender and simple. We had more baby seafood creatures, this time baby anchovies, fried and topped with a fried egg yolk, and served with romesco sauce. Although properly fried and adorable, these suffered from being overseasoned with paprika. The subtle flavor of fresh anchovies wasn't allowed to shine through. Strangely enough, these tasted better after cooling off to room temperature, when the flavors didn't seem to be competing:
Service (we sat at the bar, of course) was great. Our bartender had very solid wine knowledge and even played along when I covertly asked him to set Husband up with a blind tasting of two wines. I don't care if Amada is touristy. It was great. I would love to say it was authentic, but alas, I haven't yet made it to the motherland of tapas, so I can't say for sure.
Info: Amada 217-219 Chestnut St. (Old City) in Philadelphia 215.625.2450
