Ansill Featured in Philadelphia Weekly Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Photo by Michael Persico

Restaurant Review

Ansill

by Adam Erace

Pif is gone. Mengech is gone. Offal and eggs and innards are (mostly) gone. People say change is good, but they’re rarely right. Especially when the original formula worked as well as it does at David Ansill’s eponymous emporium of small plate hotness.

The cozy neighborhoody atmosphere is still the same, with its big wood-framed windows and walls painted fava-bean green. Brittle-boned Queen Villagers still sip sparkly French rose at the oak tables, and Saison sponges in skinny jeans still suck down oysters and Stoudts at the handsome bar—only now they cost $1 and $3 each at Ansill’s mother-shuckin’ dealsky of a happy hour.To be fair, Ansill’s status as the de facto spot for innards and odd parts was more of a convenient pres pigeonhole than a well- deserved reputation. The menu is long and varied; the dishes described simply without invoking a single farmer.

There might be three things, tops, the average eater would consider weird. If this little blond kindergartener at the table next to me can put away the lamb osso bucco sandwich—buttery tatters of braised baa-baa, piled on a raft of toasted brioche, and capped with a button of toasted marrow—believe me, you can too.Plates are precocious without being precious or pretentious. On poppy seed-speckled Wildflour brioche buns, “Two Little Burgers” explode like beefy bombs—one with caramelized onions and bleu cheese, the other with truffled mushrooms. Steak tartare made with filet mignon gets zing from Spanish brandy and French purple mustard (tinted from grape must, the post- fermentation grape residuals).

I find vegetarianism wrong and weird, but if I swung that way, Ansill would be a solid bet. There’s not a trace of tofu or other seitanic synthetics on the menu. Just plenty of vegetables pulled from the dirt and cooked simply with butter or olive oil, then enhanced with salt, citrus and fresh herbs.

Vegetable dishes—pan-roasted artichoke hearts with lemon; baguette rubbed with raw garlic and tomato; roasted red beets with goat cheese and balsamic, grilled asparagus, bitter escarole and shaved fennel salad with blood orange and Granny Smith matchsticks—are all so round with flavor, there’s no need for protein trickery.

The stuff Ansill does with herbs alone is awesome. A few leaves of Italian parsley breathe freshness into rich bone marrow sprinkled with Hawaiian pink sea salt and spread on toasted baguette slices. Fennel fronds, basil, cilantro, mint and dill tangle in a fragrant bouquet atop red-rare seared tuna garnished with blood orange segments. Violets perfume the most beautifully blue ice cream.

The recipe for the delicate floral ice cream garnished with sugary candied violets comes from Catherine Gilbert-Ansill, David’s wife, as do the recipes for all Ansill’s desserts: moist poppy seed cake gone tangy with lemon, buttermilk and creme fraiche, and orderly circles of magenta raspberries locked into crunchy almond-flour pastry.

Every Sunday Ansill offers a $40 three-course prix-fixe (with corkage-free BYOB) for Pif devotees. Toasted hazelnuts and Pernod tickle tender escargots. Cured in-house for five days, ribbons of pink gravlax melt like pats of smoky butter. The hangar steak is cooked perfectly, and the pappardelle are toothsome with tart artichoke heats.

I could do without the bland potato galette, which could use more horseradish, and the hot wet mess of a shrimp and avocado salad (though I can appreciate the from-scratch mayo enriched with lobster roe). Two duds out of 23. That’s pretty goddamn good.

Professional service rounds out the Ansill experience. Servers know each plate inside out, as well as the food-friendly beers and wines (composed by beverage director and GM Jerri Sessoms, formerly of Le Bec)—but yo, food runner, tuck in that dirty polo. This is the top of the 215, dude, no matter what changes or trends come Ansill’s way.

Ansill

627 S. Third St. 215.627.2485. www.ansillfoodandwine.com
Cuisine: European.
Hours: Sun., 5:30-midnight; Mon.-Fri., 5:30pm-1am; Sat., 5:30pm-1am.
Prices: $1-$18.
Sound advice: Energetically noisy.
Atmosphere: Cozy, warm and unconsciously stylish.
Service: Smart and able.
Food: Fresh, friendly with booze and surprisingly satisfying