Waltz is a new Italian restaurant that feels like an old haunt, but delivers new flavors to deep South Philly

If you didn’t know better, you could be convinced — as you slide a spoonful of lightly breaded crab cake out from its stuffed shell, gaze at the soft light pouring through stained-glass windows, and sip a frosty martini — that Waltz, at Front and Ritner, has been dancing on this corner of deep South Philadelphia for decades.

Cue the crowds that reliably fill the bentwood chairs in its wood-paneled downstairs bar and the bustling upper dining room even on weekdays. Forks angle through heaping platters of spaghetti while the Delfonics, O’Jays, and other Philly soul greats croon in the background. The vintage vibes here are pristine — except for the fact that Waltz is not vintage at all, but a five-month-old passion project that unpretentiously delivers a style of polished Italian American dining that’s been on the slow fade for decades due to demographic shifts and changing tastes.

This restaurant’s charm is more than just a wistful nod to “they don’t build ’em like that anymore” nostalgia. Waltz is anything but stale from the moment you’re greeted warmly at the maître d’ stand, most likely attended by manager Celine Tobin, who also happens to be co-owner Joey Dougherty’s girlfriend. A wood-fired oven beckons from just beyond in the partially open kitchen, where the 800-degree hearth fuels a menu built around pizzas, roasted meats, and house pastas.

The menu, conceived and implemented by consulting chef Eric Leveillee, formerly of Lacroix at the Rittenhouse, is key to Waltz’s allure, offering a familiar repertoire of popular dishes, then raising the bar with added elements of craft. The mozzarella is hand-pulled from Caputo Bros. Creamery curds just before service, so the milky white burrata — its core stuffed with rosemary-infused mascarpone — is extra sweet when draped with salty pink curls of prosciutto, juicy cantaloupe, and peppery green olive oil. The pizzas are made from sourdough, which lends their crusts an extra crackle, complexity, and tang.

The house-extruded pastas gain extra vibrance from their springy texture. There’s noticeable resilience in the wide lumache elbows, for example, whose bounce stands up to a spiced blush sauce that’s not simply rich with cream and fistfuls of crab, but boosted by the depth of a freshly steeped crab stock. That pasta, as well as the signature appetizer of crab cakes, is a nod to the hard-shell history of this address’ previous occupant, Anthony’s Crab House.

Waltz is a wordplay tribute to the Whitman neighborhood at the city’s southeasternmost corner, an area near the port bordered by railyards and strip malls rich in casual dining options (John’s Roast Pork, Wolf Burger, Oregon Diner, and the newly opened Angelo’s location), but slim on date-night draws. Dougherty aimed to answer that need by rehabbing this corner haunt, which had fallen into disrepair a block from his family’s contracting business, Dougherty Electric. As such projects often go, an intended modest facelift turned into a major renovation: The Doughertys created a wider opening between the dining rooms in two adjoining properties, restored the exterior brick by brick, and completely rebuilt the interior, down to the framed collage of 1924 editions of The Inquirer that had been used inside the walls as insulation.

Based on the craftsmanship of the fixtures, from the millwork of the wood paneling to the barroom tiles, vintage pendant lights, and even the beautifully outfitted marble bathrooms downstairs, it’s clear the Doughertys used many of their professional contacts here.

They might want a rebate, though, from their HVAC guy. The air conditioning in the nautical-themed upper dining room cut out halfway through a meal with my boss on a 100-degree day, awkwardly leaving us sweaty over our peperoncini-spiked martinis and the crisply fried fritto misto.

It’s a tribute to the kitchen that our table remained upbeat despite the sticky heat. The carbonara pizza — a white pie with béchamel and fontina scattered with salty nuggets of guanciale and a golden glaze of egg yolk — was my favorite pizza of that first visit. The piccante — a red pie with pepperoni, soppressata, hot honey, and sweet-tart onion agrodolce — was my pick on a return meal when the AC, thankfully, was working again.

The pastas at Waltz are also consistently excellent, including deftly folded tortellini stuffed with mushrooms in Parmesan cream sauce, and the ruffled-edge ribbons of pappardelle that cradled rustic duck ragù. The snap of fresh noodles lend the already irresistible silver platter of spaghetti with meatballs and sausage in red sauce extra oomph. It was so zesty, I couldn’t help but wonder how this Sunday gravy became a treasured tradition of the Dougherty family in this historically Irish enclave of South Philly.

“We call it ‘Gus’ gravy’,” says Joey, noting that this father, Donald “Gus” Dougherty, also a partner at Waltz, learned the recipe in 2008 from some Italian friends he met while he was serving 18 months in federal prison at Fort Dix for defrauding the IBEW Local 98 electricians union, formerly run by his close (but unrelated) associate, John “Johnny Doc” Dougherty. “He’s made it every Sunday since.”

That gravy also features prominently on the chicken Parm, although that is one dish here I found unexciting. Yes, the sharing portion is gigantic, which, at $30, is a reminder that prices here are very fair. But the breading had gone so soggy in all that red sauce the exterior was almost fluffy, leaving this Parm one-dimensional. Your best bets for the handful of large-format sharing dishes emerge from that wood hearth; the heat-blistered silver skin of a butterflied whole branzino, for example, is fantastic over the tangy vinaigrette — called sauce vierge — of fresh tomatoes, capers, and a splash of chili oil that makes it glow.

The superbly tender 14-ounce strip steak, meanwhile, roasted to a perfect medium-rare in that pizza oven, was one of the more memorable cuts of beef I’ve eaten this year. It arrived fanned over a silver platter beside shatteringly crisp fried fingerling potatoes and a head of sweet roasted garlic glossed in a black peppercorn jus that’s a telltale perk from Leveillee’s years of sauce work in French kitchens.

Between that steak, the crab cakes, pastas, and the retro tavern vibe, I can see why some have likened Waltz to a combination of the Saloon and the newly revived Bomb Bomb Bar. Waltz’s still-evolving repertoire isn’t quite that proven or deep yet, even if I have little doubt executive chef Sergio Mateo — an alum of Ambra, Whetstone, and Lacroix who’ll be carrying the menu foward once Leveillee’s consultancy is finished — has the skills to get there.

Waltz’s drink program has a bit further to go. The cocktails offer some trendy twists to classics but occasionally landed shy of their promise (the weak foam on the Fluffy Negroni Sour, for example, had deflated by the time it arrived). The potentially clever concept of a cocktail list organized by glass shapes fumbled over its own format: The Centerbe-spiked Waltz Whit Me came in a large martini coupe instead of the Nick & Nora tulip touted on the menu.

At a very reasonable $15 or less a cocktail, however, it’s hard to complain loudly. Joey Dougherty is admirably determined not to overprice Waltz for a neighborhood that currently doesn’t have many upscale dining options. The small wine list is also full of basic Italian wine values for $13 a glass or less, and a tiny reserve bottle list for a Super Tuscan or Brunello di Montalcino. Dinner as a whole is fairly priced considering the quality, with check averages of $55 to $65 including beverage before tax and tip.

Dinner finishes up strong with good scratch versions of common desserts. The made-to-order tiramisu, whose lady fingers are dunked to order in coffee then layered with sweet cheese, is somewhat controversial among traditionalists who expect it to be already fully saturated, but I enjoyed the faint crunch of those biscuits softening while we ate. There were no quibbles over the lusciously rich chocolate mousse, which is made with 70% Valrhona chocolate and served with raspberry compote and amaretto whipped cream.

Waltz’s finest finishing moves are the exceptional gelati, which are spun daily before service so the textures remain spoonably soft and vivid of flavor. The pistachio is always my go-to, and didn’t disappoint here, but I could also taste the real Tahitian beans (not extract) steeped into the vanilla. I was thoroughly charmed by the Andes Mint flavor topped with a dusting of the grated chocolate-and-crème de menthe candies. Even better was the strawberry sorbetto, which doubled down on berry flavor with a crimson glaze of strawberry compote.

If you’re going to build a new restaurant that feels like an old soul inspired by another era, these are just the kind of fresh touches required to appeal to diners today.

2351 S. Front St., 215-436-9293; waltzphilly.com

Dinner 5:30-9 p.m. Wednesday through Sunday

Pizzas and pastas, $16-$24; larger sharing plates, $30-$50.

The bar dining room is wheelchair accessible through a side door, but the bathrooms, located in the basement, are not.

About 50% of the menu is gluten-free or can be modified, including availability of gluten-free pastas.

Menu highlights: House burrata with prosciutto and melon; stuffed crabs; fritto misto; pizzas (carbonara, piccante); lumache pasta with spicy crab vodka sauce; tortellini; pappardelle with duck ragù; spaghetti with meatballs and sausage; NY strip steak; branzino; house gelati (pistachio; Andy’s mint); strawberry sorbetto.

Drinks: Classic cocktails with modern twists are categorized by glass shape (highball; coupe; Nick & Nora) but perplexingly not always served in the advertised glass. The drinks themselves solid, not spectacular, but fairly priced at $15 or less. The small wine list offers affordable Italian basics, including a Pecorino white and a plush Piemonte Rosso I’d drink all night for $11 a pour.