Bardot Cafe: Sophisticated, if a bit faux, French fare in Northern Liberties
Dennis Hewlett has long been a fan of the French New Wave - La Nouvelle Vague - the generation of filmmakers whose iconoclastic works, often experimental and realist, revolutionized modern cinema. Brigitte Bardot was not so much a Nouvelle Vague star even though she collaborated with Jean-Luc Goddard on Contempt (Le Mépris). She was more pop-culture bombshell than counterculture artiste.
Dennis Hewlett has long been a fan of the French New Wave - La Nouvelle Vague - the generation of filmmakers whose iconoclastic works, often experimental and realist, revolutionized modern cinema. Brigitte Bardot was not so much a Nouvelle Vague star even though she collaborated with Jean-Luc Goddard on Contempt (Le Mépris). She was more pop-culture bombshell than counterculture artiste.
But Hewlett, who says the New Wave's "radical sense of change . . . has been my rule book" when it came to creating his new Bardot Cafe, can be forgiven for invoking the starlet's name. It cues the curvaceous ambience at this sexy new restau-lounge in Northern Liberties, where velvet curtains and burgundy damask walls - not to mention liver mousse and rabbit crêpes - stoke a midcentury French frisson. Behind the moody look, though, might another Nouvelle Vague be at work - the tease of a grown-up Northern Liberties?
If Bardot Cafe ever amounts to anything - and, hidden away on a narrow Poplar Street corner where St. John Neumann Way slices across the neighborhood's still-gentrifying western edge, that's no sure thing - it has a chance to give a Euro-jumpstart to a more sophisticated phase.
Northern Liberties was once expected to become the next big destination hood. But it has drifted in its rapid decade of growth, skewing younger in its demographic than anticipated (see the troubled Piazza at Schmidts) while Fishtown and East Passyunk have flourished into our own little Brooklyns.
Hewlett was a big part of E'Punk's boom as the owner of the craft-beer-centric Pub on Passyunk East (P.O.P.E.). And yes, there are plenty of excellent craft beers on tap at Bardot, too, just to orient the brew-seeking status quo. But Hewlett, also tackling new challenges, has tilted Bardot's drinks more towards cocktails and a French-centric wine list, with a handmade menu from chef Rhett Vellner that has more ambition than the comfort bar fare at the P.O.P.E.
This would be a slam dunk in Center City or South Philly, where French flavors are suddenly having their own Nouvelle Vague.
In this handsome NoLibs dining room, all dressed up with shiny tin ceilings, lit-votive moodiness, and a bluesy soundtrack? I was at the only occupied table more than once. This didn't translate, unfortunately, into more attentive service: one sweet server brought eggs en cocotte instead of the cassoulet, while my other server was just uninterested and absent for long stretches.
And yet, Vellner, a veteran of Resurrection Ale House, JG Domestic and Petruce et al., deserves notice for a number of good dishes, even if they stray from tradition. He has little experience with French cuisine, which is clear in numerous details. There is no cream in cassoulet, for example, and tarragon is a weird herb to use. It also needs more beans. But there was no denying, as I munched through the crock of duck confit, Toulouse sausage, and kale (another interloper), that it was a delicious, satisfying meal.
The Mediterranean and Moroccan flavors that are prevalent in France were well-used here. I was glad to mistakenly have gotten those eggs en cocotte, the sunny side-up eggs baked atop a tomatoey stew enriched with braised lamb meat seasoned with merguez spice (its side toasts shined with rendered orange merguez fat). Eggplant is given a double-take: roasted into chunks for a panzanella salad over a smear of charred puree, then dressed with preserved lemon and za'atar. Tender octopus, braised in citrus and char-grilled, came with tiny potatoes in a piquant salsa verde and pimento oil.
A silky chicken liver mousse, with mini-loaves of brioche, and a buckwheat crêpe stuffed with tender shreds of pulled rabbit confit over a red wine-grape puree channeled some true Gallic flavors. A tartine of housemade focaccia smeared with fromage blanc, served with grapefruit and quince paste rounds, was also a fun way to begin.
I did not love Bardot's tartare, muddied by the fishy punch of a Caesar dressing. I'd also dial back the piquancy in the pan bagnat sandwich, whose tapenade over-olived the Spanish tuna.
But Vellner shows real delicacy in his take on the common beet, salt-roasted in coriander-fennel spice and paired with creamy onion soubise, goat cheese, and the crumbles of a walnut-rye bread streusel (de rigueur these days, as faux "soil"). A crisp fillet of arctic char was also spot-on, with an earthy duo of parsnips (pureed and creamy with ginger; crisped into ribbons) and the surprising fusion spark of funky kimchi.
Vellner's pastas (not a French strength) are also worthwhile, especially the fine black squid-ink spaghettini, tossed with tenderly braised squid in chorizo broth. A ravioli special stuffed with curried crab in a creamy red pepper vodka sauce touched with smoked garlic was another surprise hit. The saffron-infused spaetzle was not unlike the cassoulet: the main event starch (dumplings) were sparse, but the dish as a whole, fall veggies tossed in cauliflower cream, was impossible to stop eating.
The burger, meanwhile, a fixture now at pretty much every Franco-American bistro (from DB Bistro to Parc) is outstanding, with a hint of earthiness from the round (blended with sirloin and chuck), sweetness from sherry-caramelized onions, and a nutty Maghreb spice from harissa aioli tempered by brown-butter richness.
What to drink with such gutsy fare? The cocktails were forgettable, veering toward weak and unbalanced. A rustic glass of Loire cab franc, or a dry malbec from its Cahors homeland will do just fine. Roussillon blanc or colombard are the right whites for the spaghettini. Wine with food in beery Northern Liberties (beyond survivor Bar Ferdinand)? It's a Nouvelle Vague, indeed.
215-854-2682 @CraigLaBan