Swallow
I made a mistake and I’m not proud of it. I visited Swallow only four days after it opened and ate an entire meal before realizing that it was absolutely the best restaurant in Philadelphia. How could I have known? As is my policy at every other restaurant, I did not order the Caesar salad. Truth be told, I was indignant that such a disgustingly pedestrian salad was even included on the menu all Philly foodies have been anticipating for months. Little did I realize that Swallow’s chefs serve the Caesar precisely the way it was invented to be eaten, in all its simplistic glory. How do hearts of romaine sound? So fresh they can be folded lengthwise and picked up whole with your fingers, accented by shavings from a robust wedge of parmesan? Every menu creation receives the same meticulous treatment. Dishing up much more class and quality than it does self-conscious pomp and circumstance often inflicted on patrons of “fancy” restaurants, Swallow’s brilliance isn’t hard to swallow: portions are perfect, the price is worth every morsel, the owners double as your chefs each evening, and there is no corking fee. Am I in love? Basically.
|