In the last Wharton Palate, I promised you a review of the new Melograno. I am a woman of my word, and so, I set up a date to go with my friend, the WG ’09 who first told me about the place over a year ago when we first set foot onto Hunstman. With both of our other commitments, by process of elimination, the Monday about two weeks ago was selected. The more savvy restaurant goer would never have committed the rookie mistake I did, but I turned the corner onto Sansom street and felt my heart sink into my very hungry, very empty stomach. Melograno was dark.
This is when my h-anger kicked in and a tsunami-sized wave of indignation overcame my shame of being so stupid for not checking beforehand. Sure, Melograno employees need a break, too. And sure, a restaurant should close its doors and not operate if doing so causes it to be unprofitable. But, I didn’t care. After all the anticipation, all the expectation, all the dreaming… I was disappointed and most importantly, still hungry.
Thankfully, though, I always travel with a pocket ace. Many year ago when I lived in New York, I came down to visit my friend who lived in Philadelphia and who ended up taking me to his favorite Italian BYO, Porcini, where he knew the maitre d’ and would bring the kitchen staff six-packs of beer. I remembered this place fondly and when my husband and I came down to Philadelphia to look for apartments that spring before starting Wharton, we ended an exasperating and exhausting day with a comforting and delicious plate of hot penne in pink vodka sauce before hopping on a Chinatown bus and preparing to start the search process all over again. Porcini, despite all its faults, was my diamond in the rough world of Philly BYO’s.
The World Series had begun and since Porcini does not have flatscreens mounted on the walls, the restaurant was nearly empty. But David who runs front-of-house, was as friendly as ever, guiding us to our table, opening our bottle of wine, telling us the evening’s specials, and cracking a joke all in one breath. The food at Porcini is simple and some things are better than others. For starters, they offer three different kinds of bruschetta (the “Tuscan Bean” variety made with cannelloni beans is fantastic), the pastas are all very simple and pretty reliable, and my friend ended up having the special of veal medallions in a brown sauce, that was spot on in all its savory, tender glory.
The presentation (both décor and plating) leave something to be desired. I’m always at first a little uneasy with the carpeted dining room that’s decorated in rather cheesy, Holiday Inn-style framed prints, but Porcini is more of an everyday kind of place, somewhere you go with your husband when you don’t feel like cooking. David knows the names of his regular guests and makes them feel like Porcini is just an extension of their homes.
Porcini was a long digression, though, and I did eventually make it to Melograno. The full story is that I had not been impressed with Melograno in the past. Everyone loved it and everyone wanted to go always, and so I gave it a lot of tries, all of which were disappointing. I will not soon forget, for example, a tough and flavorless braised veal with waxy, congealed polenta. But, I was willing to forgive, even if I wasn’t going to forget.
I wasn’t able to reschedule with the original dinner date, but in true Amni fashion, was able to finagle a last-minute double date with a couple that previously double-dated with us at Melograno. The new space is much larger, which is great because 1) you’re not elbow to elbow with strangers (some people like that, but it’s more a logistical thing with me—I hate having to squeeze between tables to get to seats, making my bum very vulnerable to knocking over bottles of wine or glasses of water), 2) there’s now room for three or four larger, round tables that seat around six people (I love round tables), and 3) from an OPIM standpoint, increased capacity generally means decreased wait-times. All good. Now for the bad: I guess that when one has to decorate a larger space, it’s harder to make things feel intimate. The rustic feel of the former space was translated to white-washed wood panel wainscoting, and walls painted in a warm sunny color. And despite the shelves that held terra cotta pots of mums and other little “rustic” trinkets, I still felt like something was missing because there was too much blank space.
The new space must have had some sort of effect on me, though. I started with a special roasted beet salad with pears drizzled in honey, walnuts, aged goat cheese, arugula and a delicate lemon vinaigrette. The table agreed that it must be THE perfect salad, with flavors and textures so perfectly in harmony. For my entrée, I had the special again—veal ravioli. It was delightful, though I generally prefer my pasta to be cooked a little longer. The other couple both had fish—the bronzino and the orata—and their plates were completely clean by time our table was bused. My husband can’t refuse a seafood pasta, and so got the pappardelle with shrimp and scallops. I definitely used wife privileges to try it myself and it was delicious with the shrimp and scallops perfectly cooked in the tomato-based sauce. He, having become the connoisseur of seafood pastas, said that he has had better, but the plate that didn’t need to be washed was indicative of more-than-decent.
The thing that makes Melograno so great, though, is that Wharton loves it and shows up in droves. Maybe it’s the upscale, MBA version of 90210’s Peach Pit. In the old space, I was guaranteed to see a Wharton MBA there, even when I was just passing by. This past Wednesday night in the new space was not an exception. The WGA was having one of its small-group dinners at a round table and a clan of Wharton Japanese women dined at the round table right next to it. I went to second-year drinks afterwards only to talk to someone else who had also just been there. I love that, because “Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came.”
Next Time: Home Brew Part I – Amni embarks upon the world of home brew. Will her homemade nut brown compare to the Newcastle she loves so much?
This is when my h-anger kicked in and a tsunami-sized wave of indignation overcame my shame of being so stupid for not checking beforehand. Sure, Melograno employees need a break, too. And sure, a restaurant should close its doors and not operate if doing so causes it to be unprofitable. But, I didn’t care. After all the anticipation, all the expectation, all the dreaming… I was disappointed and most importantly, still hungry.
Thankfully, though, I always travel with a pocket ace. Many year ago when I lived in New York, I came down to visit my friend who lived in Philadelphia and who ended up taking me to his favorite Italian BYO, Porcini, where he knew the maitre d’ and would bring the kitchen staff six-packs of beer. I remembered this place fondly and when my husband and I came down to Philadelphia to look for apartments that spring before starting Wharton, we ended an exasperating and exhausting day with a comforting and delicious plate of hot penne in pink vodka sauce before hopping on a Chinatown bus and preparing to start the search process all over again. Porcini, despite all its faults, was my diamond in the rough world of Philly BYO’s.
The World Series had begun and since Porcini does not have flatscreens mounted on the walls, the restaurant was nearly empty. But David who runs front-of-house, was as friendly as ever, guiding us to our table, opening our bottle of wine, telling us the evening’s specials, and cracking a joke all in one breath. The food at Porcini is simple and some things are better than others. For starters, they offer three different kinds of bruschetta (the “Tuscan Bean” variety made with cannelloni beans is fantastic), the pastas are all very simple and pretty reliable, and my friend ended up having the special of veal medallions in a brown sauce, that was spot on in all its savory, tender glory.
The presentation (both décor and plating) leave something to be desired. I’m always at first a little uneasy with the carpeted dining room that’s decorated in rather cheesy, Holiday Inn-style framed prints, but Porcini is more of an everyday kind of place, somewhere you go with your husband when you don’t feel like cooking. David knows the names of his regular guests and makes them feel like Porcini is just an extension of their homes.
Porcini was a long digression, though, and I did eventually make it to Melograno. The full story is that I had not been impressed with Melograno in the past. Everyone loved it and everyone wanted to go always, and so I gave it a lot of tries, all of which were disappointing. I will not soon forget, for example, a tough and flavorless braised veal with waxy, congealed polenta. But, I was willing to forgive, even if I wasn’t going to forget.
I wasn’t able to reschedule with the original dinner date, but in true Amni fashion, was able to finagle a last-minute double date with a couple that previously double-dated with us at Melograno. The new space is much larger, which is great because 1) you’re not elbow to elbow with strangers (some people like that, but it’s more a logistical thing with me—I hate having to squeeze between tables to get to seats, making my bum very vulnerable to knocking over bottles of wine or glasses of water), 2) there’s now room for three or four larger, round tables that seat around six people (I love round tables), and 3) from an OPIM standpoint, increased capacity generally means decreased wait-times. All good. Now for the bad: I guess that when one has to decorate a larger space, it’s harder to make things feel intimate. The rustic feel of the former space was translated to white-washed wood panel wainscoting, and walls painted in a warm sunny color. And despite the shelves that held terra cotta pots of mums and other little “rustic” trinkets, I still felt like something was missing because there was too much blank space.
The new space must have had some sort of effect on me, though. I started with a special roasted beet salad with pears drizzled in honey, walnuts, aged goat cheese, arugula and a delicate lemon vinaigrette. The table agreed that it must be THE perfect salad, with flavors and textures so perfectly in harmony. For my entrée, I had the special again—veal ravioli. It was delightful, though I generally prefer my pasta to be cooked a little longer. The other couple both had fish—the bronzino and the orata—and their plates were completely clean by time our table was bused. My husband can’t refuse a seafood pasta, and so got the pappardelle with shrimp and scallops. I definitely used wife privileges to try it myself and it was delicious with the shrimp and scallops perfectly cooked in the tomato-based sauce. He, having become the connoisseur of seafood pastas, said that he has had better, but the plate that didn’t need to be washed was indicative of more-than-decent.
The thing that makes Melograno so great, though, is that Wharton loves it and shows up in droves. Maybe it’s the upscale, MBA version of 90210’s Peach Pit. In the old space, I was guaranteed to see a Wharton MBA there, even when I was just passing by. This past Wednesday night in the new space was not an exception. The WGA was having one of its small-group dinners at a round table and a clan of Wharton Japanese women dined at the round table right next to it. I went to second-year drinks afterwards only to talk to someone else who had also just been there. I love that, because “Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came.”
Next Time: Home Brew Part I – Amni embarks upon the world of home brew. Will her homemade nut brown compare to the Newcastle she loves so much?
