hen Porcini opened in 1996, few people expected the brothers Steven and David Sansone to do much business, with only 30 seats stuffed into a dining room the size of a shoebox, debuting in an era when there were no other restaurants on Sansom Street. A BYOB? Philly hardly knew what that was aside from the original Dmitri’s across Broad Street.
And yet, 40 years later, this block of Sansom Street near Rittenhouse Square has become a mini-restaurant row. There are now hundreds of Italian BYOBs flourishing across the city, and the pioneer of them all, Porcini, is still kicking as the Sansone brothers continue to host lively Italian meals for their loyal following.
There’s David at his lookout post near the door, chatting with guests then scampering back to whisk plates of chicken Milanese in sloshy wine-and-butter sauce through the dining room. (“It’s not an Italian meal if you don’t get some on your clothes!” he consoled one guest, dabbing a plate-landing splash of sauce on his shirt.) And there’s self-taught chef Steven, just back from double cataract surgery (“I can see the tickets again!”), overseeing a tiny kitchen whose clattering plates and passionate banter frequently cuts in over the opera soundtrack wafting through the dining room. “It’s just like Big Night here, an argument with my brother every night,” jokes Steven. “We can’t get it out of our blood.”
Whatever it is that propels these two siblings, now in their late 60s, to keep going — be it a pride in their Sicilian and Neapolitan heritage, their top-notch Caffè Motta espresso, or the pure love of hospitality — they’ve preserved the sense of warmth, handcraft, and quirky personality that endeared this cozy nook to the city to begin with. At my recent visit, two handmade pastas were vivid reminders of Porcini’s homey charm.
Some of the airiest potato gnocchi I’ve eaten all year bobbed light as a feather in a bright San Marzano tomato sauce dabbed with creamy clouds of Claudio’s fresh mozzarella. My favorite, though, was paglia e fieno, a plate of hand-cranked green-and-white linguine meant to evoke the changing seasons of “straw” and “hay.” The two-toned noodle dish has been served multiple ways over the years here, but it seemed fitting that I was able to swirl those delicate pasta ribbons through a rich, tan-colored cream sauce infused with the restaurant’s namesake porcini mushrooms. Like the restaurant itself, this humble plate of browns and khaki greens was more about the satisfaction of good, handmade flavors than culinary flash or trends. Four decades later, this kitchen’s simple touch still resonates.
Porcini, 2048 Sansom St., 215-751-1175, instagram.com/porcinirestaurant
