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Before I even took a bite of the capellini glazed in an emerald froth of pesto at Emilia, I knew it was special. My forkful smelled like a summer garden, but shaded by the richness of crushed pinenuts, grated cheese and sweet garlic. As the long strands of house-extruded pasta slipped past my lips with a snap, a lingering lick of lemon zest beamed like sunshine. I promptly devoured the remaining bowl.
I can’t remember the last time I got excited about pesto outside of my own kitchen. Since its introduction to America in the late 1980s, unabated popularity has largely dulled this delicate miracle of basil sauce as it became a ubiquitous condiment for sandwiches and pastas that, more often than not, turn out gloppy and dull olive green.
Leave it to Greg Vernick and his team to recapture the vibrant magic of this now-commonplace ingredient through careful technique and timing — including a strategic splash of pasta water — as well as a rare appreciation for the power of polished simplicity.
Another standout at Emilia, tortellini en brodo, is essentially just two elements, but the clear broth and nutmeg-scented mortadella dumplings were so perfectly crafted, they harmonized like a moving duet in the bowl. That cold weather soup has cycled off the spring menu, of course. The perk of ramps has also made a seasonal cameo for a few weeks in the pesto, albeit tempered by confit garlic and mint for subtlety. The pastas remain a fluid canvas for the seasons here, as at any good Italian restaurant.
Minimalist mastery is no surprise given that Vernick is the one who helped make roast chicken sexy again with his wood-fired masterpiece at Vernick Food & Drink, his original restaurant in Rittenhouse where he earned a James Beard award in 2017 and helped redefine modern American dining for Philadelphians.
That ethos is especially well-suited to the Italian menu at Emilia, Vernick’s fourth restaurant and newest creation in Fishtown. It is easily one of the year’s most exciting openings to date and superbly polished at nearly every level, from the food and drinks to the service and decor. Vernick is a deliberate operator whose snail-paced expansion, averaging a new restaurant every seven years, belies the vitality and relevance of his projects. They rise on the talent he’s carefully cultivated over the years.
In this case, chef de cuisine Meredith “Meri” Medoway, 33, the former lead chef at Food & Drink who’s worked for Vernick on and off since she was 20, interspersed with stints in both Modena and Calabria (and Collingswood’s Hearthside), is fully steeped in Vernick’s distinctive approach to cooking, with unfettered plates that make a deeper impact because of their focused compositions and depth of flavors.
“Sometimes the greatest ingredient is the one you leave out,” says Vernick, 45.
No dish is simpler than the small glass shooter of mushroom brodo, steeped from smoky wood-grilled maitake and oyster mushrooms and porcinis, that welcomes every guest like an earthy potion to align and ground their taste buds for the meal.
Another memorable starter, the carta di musica, is essentially a buttered cracker. But when it snaps at the strike of a spoon, its zesty red topping of spiced bottarga crumbles and sparks into three dimensions. I’ve also been mesmerized by Emilia’s fried artichokes, a wonder of ruffled crunch, whose greaseless, tender plumes tumble over green parsley aioli dappled with sweet balsamic.
The design of this 90-seat restaurant, set into a new Frankford Avenue building just north of the roundabout at East York Street, maintains a clean contemporary look. The rectangular space segues from a bustling bar (where some walk-in seats remain) into a dining room whose modernist look of blonde oak, steel beams, sleek wood chairs and polished concrete floors exude a surprising warmth, amplified by strategically placed wall mirrors that ring the cushy banquettes and make the room feel larger.
Noise remains a major issue despite early efforts, a flaw Vernick says they’re actively working to remedy. My other big complaint — overly dim lights — is easy enough to fix with more strategically placed spot lighting. I would have drunk more of these fantastic cocktails, like that balsamic-kissed fennel spritz, or the Cynar-spiked version of a Negroni (Winter in Florence), had I not already been yawning from the room’s perpetual dusk. I opted for Emilia’s savory espresso martini, built on grappa with hay-infused liqueur, and that did the trick.
Why go to the trouble to make such beautiful plates if we must strain to see them in the shadows?
Another of Emilia’s stunning starters, a crudo of scallops and burrata, is a subtle study of shades in white, the briny sweet scallops and stuffed mozzarella’s lactic cream playing each others’ similar-but-different flavors and textures. The crisply fried suppli, inspired by corporate culinary director Andrew Parassio’s favorite Roman snack, are a vivid spring green when you take a bite of the risotto balls infused with mint and peas. Then again, you could stick me in a dark closet and I’d still strip the porchetta-spiced bark clean off the pork ribs, with copious swipes through the tangy-spicy rhubarb mostarda.
Emilia’s pastas are compelling in their focus, functionality and craft, especially the house-extruded shapes, which are more delicate than similar versions I’ve seen elsewhere. The ruffled fins of radiatore are perfect for trapping the woodsy intensity of a mushroom Bolognese. The snail shell-shaped lumache tubes arrive threaded with sweet spring onions and crumbles of fennel pork sausage. If you wonder why the rigatoni with ragù bianco of minced chicken is so good, it’s perhaps because a fistful of offal —heart and liver — is added for extra depth.
There are so many irresistible plates on the top two-thirds of this menu, but there are also several entrees worth ordering at least to share. Two distinct fish dishes — a meaty hunk of wild striper over saffron-tomato aquapazza broth; or a butterflied whole sea bream grilled into a crispy-skinned sail over salsa verde — are reminders this team, also with experience at Vernick Fish, can cook seafood with the city’s best.
I would have loved the crispy veal Milanese and its cherry pepper-spiked Italian-American homage to scarpariello sauce had it not been slightly oversalted. But I‘m still dreaming of the soulfully braised lamb sugo served over a hunk of smoked eggplant (instead of pasta), a clever Mediterranean tribute to one of Vernick’s favorite dishes at the old Sagami (eggplant toped with miso chicken gravy). If you’re craving red meat, Emilia often runs a stellar porterhouse special, a 24 oz. chop of prime beef that gets mopped with rosemary-infused tallow while it sizzes over the wood grill. Along with the similarly off-menu porterhouse at Bomb Bomb Bar & Grill, it’s one of the best new steaks around.
You won’t find a red wine with quite the heft to handle that porterhouse on the otherwise thoughtful list of Italian wines by the glass. (The growing bottle list has more options.) This collection of low-intervention middle-weight wines, however, has two different but equally delicious Sicilian glasses — a skin-contact catarratto and a juicy red frappato — that makes Emilia’s rabbit dish shine.
It gets dry rubbed overnight with juniper and herbs before being carefully braised, with different parts added at staggered times so the tender loins don’t overcook. Finished in a tangy cacciatore sauce of tomatoes, green olives and juicy bursts of orange segments, it’s a rustic rabbit refined, but only just enough.
At this point, I’d suggest exploring some gems from the two dozen-plus amari, like Varnelli’s wood-smoked and honeyed amaro dell’erborista. Vernick’s gift for elevating savory foods from mundane to magical does not land with quite as much revelatory effects with dessert. The spoonable coffee cup of rich tiramisu is laced with crunchy chocolate shavings, and that’s fine. The gelati, while excellent, are outsourced to Cocco’s. The pignoli cookie is nice and chewy. The poached pear with zabaglione is solid. But none are surprising.
Such desserts don’t necessarily detract from my otherwise spectacular meals here, so much as they miss an opportunity to move the needle forward. Is this like criticizing an A student for falling short of an A+? Perhaps. But Emilia has already made such a phenomenal debut, it’s exciting to know it can get even better.
Emilia
2406 Frankford Ave., 267-541-2360; emiliaphilly.com
Dinner Sunday through Wednesday, 5-9:30, Thursday through Saturday, until 10 p.m.
Pastas and entrees, $19-$53
Wheelchair accessible.
About 50% of the menu is gluten-free or can be modified, including two types of gluten-free pastas (using imported Rustichella d’Abruzzo), with care to avoid cross-contamination.
Menu Highlights: Carta di musica with butter and bottarga; suppli; crispy artichokes; scallop crudo with burrata; porchetta ribs with mostarda; cappelini pesto Genovese; radiatore with mushroom Bolognese; lumache with spring onions and sausage ragù; grilled sea bream; lamb sugo with eggplant; braised rabbit; porterhouse steak special; tiramisu.
Drinks: An Italian theme drives the list. Creative and well-crafted cocktails lean towards savory culinary touches — a kiss of aged balsamic in the signature spritz; grappa and hay-infused liqueur for the espresso martini. A collection of low-intervention Italian wines by the glass avoids the usual suspects for more intriguing menu-friendly choices, such as a rich white Pecorino from Le Marche. There’s a small but solid bottle list, ranging from mid-$60s to $350, as well as a growing list of 20-plus amari for after dinner sipping.
Dining and Cooking