"I always eat my desserts first, that way I'm sure there will be room," Denny Santiago, Fountain Restaurant's chef, bashfully said. He spoke little, merely smiling happily when his food was praised.
He didn't have to. His art speaks for itself.
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The unordered amuse-bouche arrived first, a circular, grilled scallop on a square brioche, served in an elegant, wide-lipped bowl. Just as the shapes and textures of the two parts contrasted, the two tastes individually seemed like they would clash, but when consumed together, they melded perfectly, held together by the grenouille and lime-based sauce.
The next course displayed the same mastery of texture. The creamy foie gras ($23.50), the well-cooked bed of spinach upon which it rested and the thick, smoky, cider vinegar sauce shared the same buttery consistency, while the quince ravioli provided a sweet, firm contrast.
Fris‹¨«e lettuce and fingerling potato salad with sushi-grade tuna, pan-fried quail egg, and warm mustard bacon ($13) followed. Despite splendid presentation, with poached quail egg perched delicately on top of the fris‹¨«e lettuce--surely as great a test of the waiter's formidable skills as might be devised--the dish failed to prove itself much better than a simple salad.
Quail egg tastes like chicken, fris‹¨«e lettuce like iceberg and fingerling potatoes like Idaho. And given the chilly temperature of the restaurant, a cold dish was somewhat unwelcome. The generous portion of sushi-grade tuna, however, saved the dish.
Our head server, Monica Kroll, delivered the filet mignon ($46). Unfortunately, my date was just leaving for the restroom. An abashed Kroll returned our plates to the kitchen to stay warm. A few minutes later, an announcement arrived that the chef had decided to recook the dishes instead, and so the meal would be delayed in the interests of quality.
The wait proved worthwhile. The first bite was pure perfection. The funny thing about filet mignon this good is that it's not until the last few bites, once it's cooled down slightly, that it tastes like steak. Until then, it's another dish entirely -- it simply dissolves in your mouth.
The last few bites, however, provided an opportunity to try the steak with the accompanying risotto and escarole, accompaniments which the meat had no need for until then. As one might expect from Fountain's kitchen, the accompaniments were well-executed.
Dessert was chocolate souffl‹¨« ($12.50), topped with a thin layer of melting chocolate and "Fountain Restaurant" written in gold foil. Assorted chocolates arrived to accompany it on an elegant art glass plate. Fountain has been criticized for its overly-conservative dessert menu, and certainly what could be safer than chocolate? Nevertheless, the quality of the dessert I sampled was top notch, and sometimes, at the end of a long meal, all you really want is comforting chocolate.
Throughout the meal, the service team, headed by Kroll -- the wife of Penn physics professor Joseph Kroll -- took care of details like a fallen scarf within moments of the problem. The constantly-full water glasses stood testament to the efficiency of the staff.
A constant flow of good food and good service served to make the three-hour meal a lively affair. Despite the hyper-detailed menu, the restaurant succeeds admirably at creating an opulent atmosphere that still avoids calling attention to itself.
